So, Monday I had sort of a rough trip down to see my Grandparents - my normally very feisty Gma isn't doing so great. She had a bit of a fall a few weeks ago and now seems a trifle bit confused (and not in the usual charming way) so that got the wheels turning a bit.
And then, on the 90 minute trip home my car, who in car-years is as about as old as my Grandma, kept getting butt-raped by SUVs. Let me assure you I am not a slow driver, though I have my limits - on the open highway, I do 80 maybe 85. If 85 is to slow for you in the stop-and-start L.A. traffic, then I hope you have an eject button and a parachute.
And may I point out that under any other circumstance people would know that tailgating is inappropriate. For example, if I were in a bar and slightly apprehensive, nervous, and a little cautious, nothing would give me confidence quite like a stranger angrily pressing their front side against my backside.
So imagine my delight when I arrived home and had a package from the fantastic little sister-in-law, Bubella. I tell you - being adopted, if you count the biologicals and the sister-in-law, I technically have 4 siblings (sidenote - any of them could legally marry each other) and oddly enough she is by far the one I'm closest to and have the most in common with. It's as though G-d/Zeus/Bea Arthur said "not only will I give you a soulmate, I will give you a sister-mate that he'll bring you". So this brightened my day up significantly:
Yes folks, it is a button that says "I slept with John Lennon", and you should absolutely think of me any time someone says hooker.
So now I am left with the task of coming up with a small, inappropriate gift for a badass 16 year old girl. Seriously contemplated sending her her first vibrator, but am terrified that her parents would be greeted from a long day at work by a vibrating package. So any thoughts/suggestions are appreciated.
This button is also honey-colored, which was one of my overdue photo prompts from the lovely EmHart, who I wish was a hooker.
On the subject of photo prompts and odd shopping excursions, today Mr. T and I went to lunch and then stopped off at a Marshalls. (Mr. T's surgery has left him temporarily mute, and it was an odd experience having people look at me as though I had a heart of gold for having a deaf/mute friend. And possibly also thinking that that was the only type of friend that can stand me).
I am trying to make over my living room with some light touches. I bought some candles that will make it smell like autumn, and I am done, d-o-n-e with the throw pillows I normally have on my couch. They're from the upper part of the rainbow (my least favorite color scheme) and have taken a beating from the fur-chidlren. So I bought some new ones today (which are in part, blue, my other missing photo prompt).
Now I don't want my couch-pillows to look like bed-pillows, but I would like them to say "sit and watch tv, or have a nap, or get it on with the Bettie Page like vixen who obviously lives here". Thoughts?
And last but not least, I am left with the 'morning' prompt. Now the aforementioned seriously-name-your-price EmHart mentioned the other day that as I clean to Harry Belafonte, she cleans to Michael Jackson.
Fast forward to this afternoon, and I'm going through old photos on my computer to clear up some space. Back in 2009, when Mr. Jackson passed away, Bubba and I lived very close to "the Jackson Compound" (why do they call it this? Are they planning some sort of revolt?). So the morning after he died we walked over to their street to see the mourning... So I give you some pictures I took, that are taking up space on my hard drive.
The end of their street:
I've seen large press events in my life, but never like this -
This is to the side of their driveway - can't even tell you how many people were in the little neighborhood. Presumably those are Jacksons pulling up in the black SUV...
The front of their driveway -
Makeshift memorial in front of their fence -
Mourners on one side, press on the other. Genuinely felt bad for Jackson neighbors -
May your neighborhood be free and your beds full of celebrities.