Saturdays with Sir Poops-A-Lot: Waking Up Late

SPAL: Mummsy woke up real late this morning. It’s not like her to do that.

HB: Yeah. She’s up by 5:30-6 am. She didn’t get us outside until about 9 this morning. What’s up with that?

SPAL: Well, Tuesday on her other day off she had a hard time getting up and going. She didn’t get up as late like she did today.

HB: She even watched an hour of a movie this morning and now she’s watching The Great Muppet Caper.

SPAL: Miss Piggy and Kermit are trying to act like Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. That’s really strange to see.

HB: Looks more like someone’s trying to swoon Miss Piggy away from Kermit to me.

SPAL: You’re sooo stupid.

HB: You’re suuuuch a pansy!

SPAL: Whatever.***he shakes his head***How are we going to help Mummsy today. She doesn’t want to get out of bed. She’s got writing and editing to do for herself and others today.

HB: But I like it when she hangs out in bed. It’s the best thing ever. Just lying around. Sleeping. Sniffing. Sleeping some more. Watching T.V. Sleep some more. Sniff some more. And repeat.

SPAL: But Mummsy’s got a lot to do today and we have to help her. Remember she’s got laundry, cleaning, and grocery shopping to do, too.

HB: What’s more important than lounging around in a nice fluffy bed all day. It’s her day off.

SPAL: But it’s a beautiful day out.  The sky is blue. Birds are flying.

HB: Which reminds me. Where’s breakfast?

SPAL: You missed it. I was starving and couldn’t help myself. I mean you were lounging around upstairs with Mummsy. So I helped myself to your bowl and mine.

HB: I’ll let you get away with it this time but the next time I’ll bite your butt and steal all your treats. And at night, I’ll head butt you off No-No’s bed.

SPAL: Whatever, stupid. We still need to figure out how to make Mummsy feel better.

HB: You sure you want to do that?

SPAL: Why do you say that?

HB: I hear she plans on putting you into the Great White Watery Abyss of Torture today.

SPAL: Really?

HB: Yeah. Really.

SPAL: ***swallows a lump*** and cowers into a corner.

HB: You’re such a pansy. ****he belly laughs***

SPAL: You’re stupid. Taking delight in another’s demise. How could you be so insensitive?

HB: It’s a form of brotherly love. If I were you, I’d beg No-No to hide you out in her room somewhere. There’s lots of great piles and stuff to hide in. ***he walks away, smirking***

SPAL: Where are you going? You have to help me! SAVE ME!

HB: Not in your life, pansy-boy. You’d do yourself a favor if you kept Mummsy in bed. That’s where I’m going. Where it’s cozy and safe and I can dream about your torture.

SPAL: But---

HB: ***continues to walk the other direction***

Murder on the Beach, a Nose Picker, and Manipulative Corporate Hounds

 

I’ll start with some good news first. There’s been a change in date and price to

James Swain’s e-publishing seminar. Here’s the following:

The e-publishing seminar at Murder on the Beach Bookstore has been changed to Saturday March 19 at 1-5 pm.
Cost is $99.

Flying monkeys move on…

Shelly’s in a rare mood today. It’s a bad one. Unusual for her. Monday night I received a call from the managing dwarf of the salon. “I need you to come in tomorrow at one. Since I won’t be getting a day off this week, I’d like to get half a day off. So I really need you to come in. And…..blah…blah….”

Yeah. Right. (Mentally Shelly is standing with her hands on her hips by now with her eyes glazing over.)

You see, this past weekend stylists were told that all of us would be working six days this week because of some unforeseen shop drama. Wasn’t happy about it but okay. I prefer being warned, and did notice the schedule change noted such. Everyone would be working six days. The manager seven (she makes much better pay than me). No problem. Got to be fair.

So, I go in yesterday at one. I notice the schedule. The managing dwarf manipulated the schedule along with the her assistant monkey down to five days. It irks me. Don’t like being lied to or manipulated. I’ve got a writing life to attend to.

Not to mention, them holes I wrote about several posts ago, are more like empty water dams and valleys. Those are my real concerns even though, yes, I need a paycheck. All seven dollars and fifty cents an hour of it---shift manager pay.

I wished I didn’t have to bite my tongue. Wished I could be like the guy driving next to me yesterday on the way to the slave pit. Found him with his finger straight up his nose. He bored into it good. Twisted it a couple times, too. Thought maybe he was trying to pick at his brain instead of trying to retrieve a booger the way he was going at it. He didn’t seem to care if anyone watched him.

When he finished boring into his nose, he flicked what he’d found into the air. Boogers for all.

That’s right boogers to all corporate hounds. That’s what I’d like to say. Boogers to you!

But I’ll be nice. I do have my own pocket full of sunshine.

Anyway, I know some of my hair clients keep up with my blogs. So I wanted to say, you all make my job great. You all rock. Thank you!

And to the rest of you, happy blogging, reading, and writing!!!

Shelly

P.S. Save a library!!!!