mthor

Also document, documented, and documentary.

Kudos for the mac & cheese, but I don't know if I'd brag about turning anything into Velveeta.

Ha! No Facebook here. Never had it, never will. (Of course, the same thing can be said of my social skills... )

I almost added that, plus various other site-specific routes, but the cat was helping me type again. 😸

Too late. The Kraken has been unleashed.

In the arm, or in the thigh, or in the affected joint capsule, or IV, depending on the specific steroid, the indication, the volume of the injection, and (in the case of intramuscular injection), the muscle mass. Next question?

The puppy has the poops. She got into the garden yesterday and apparently over-indulged in cherry tomatoes. So today, I've been mashing rice and chicken and cleaning up poop in between walkies. Could be worse. Could be raining.

Ylvis is extremely versatile.

No opinion - I don't want to jinx you.

^^his. If I take a nap, it's got to be about 2 hours; if I wake up in the middle of a sleep cycle, I feel worse than if I hadn't slept at all. And this power nap 15 minute bullshit - I don't know how people do it.

Stop embarrassing yourself.

Mega-binging - started with season one.

I don't think that minutes count anymore. No credit for just showing up; you have to produce. Of course, I've been wrong before, and I'll be wrong again...

That happened a lot when my husband and I split and I moved back to my home town. I'd been gone for about 25 years, and it was amazing how history had changed. However, with that much water under the bridge, it had become more amusing than irritating, and some of the assholes had actually become reasonably pleasant people.

The problem is that, by the time the world looks more encouraging, one will have bedsores.

So was it a luxury studio apartment, or a two bedroom apartment? It can't be both, at least, not to anyone using standard American English.

I hate the whole "Someone will be there between 1 and 5" bullshit of service calls. It's almost 3, and nothing. I have fudge and a pound cake to make, and I can't start either because the doorbell will ring at the precise moment that I can't answer it. I have to go down cellar to do laundry things and some picking up, and I can't do it because the doorbell will ring and I won't hear it. Ditto going out to pick tomatoes for supper. Come on, asshole. Just because I'm not working doesn't mean I don't have things to do.

Look, it could be worse. I could be bringing your bedpan - and throughout my career, I've always brought them chilled. (Just kidding - for you, room temperature. 😉)

Damn you, Mother Gothel, for being the most worthless villain ever.

Candle lit, fingers crossed, hoping for the best.

You shouldn't ask questions that you don't want answered.

Ah. The whole group of one thing.

I don't know whether to feel privileged that I have it, or grateful for being accommodated.