It's not about the house.

Tuesday, October 9, 2007

My Name Is Prudence, And...

I have a problem.

I seem to have gone and got myself addicted.

I bought the 100 box on Thursday -- I was so broke on Thursday I had to put it on the credit card, but I needed them and so I bought them and I charged them and I'm not sorry I did, either. It was AmEx and I got the bill already, I wrote the check and I will drop it in the mail tomorrow, so it's not like I'm accruing interest on my $3.99.

And I don't want to talk about why I had to charge $3.99. Let it suffice to say it's been a long, hard month, all right? And if I say I needed the 100 box on Thursday, then I needed the 100 box on Thursday, okay?

Why are you looking at me like that? What?

So what if they're all gone already? I just ate the last one -- it's not like I ate the entire box in a single day or anything, and it's not like I just drank them down without bothering to freeze them. Jeez!

Besides, on Thursday I really did need them. We'd had a few left in the house from summertime (kept around for when the critter comes) and I'd discovered that they soothed my aching face. Plus they kept my wandering tongue distracted from its otherwise-uncontrollable desire to shove my perforated tooth out of its socket. And then, of course, there are the colors...

But -- Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday -- that's an average of twenty Pop Ice every day! And when you consider that Sunday I was at the game and Thursday I didn't even get the box till after supper, it's fair to say that if I'm home these days, I've got one hand in the freezer.

This ain't just any monkey I've got on my back, it's a Japanese Macaque!

Trust me when I tell you that that joke is freaking hysterical if you once pursued and abandoned, as I did, a Master's Degree in animal behavior. Just ask Niko Tinbergen or Stephen Jay Gould. Except you can't, cuz they're both dead. I bet it was the Pop Ice that got 'em.

Okay, well, look: Japanese Macaque = monkey with a snowball!


Aww... Hey, wait. Do you think that could be what crawled out from the floorboards in my dream the other night?

If you need me, I'll be in the closet, shivering and muttering and picking imaginary nits off my macaque.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Macacque hari balls. Cough Cough Cough. Pass the popsicles.

Anonymous said...

that shoudl say hair, not hari. sounds almost suicidal. sorry.

Anonymous said...

SHOULD dammit, Do I have fat fingers today or what?

Sparkle Plenty said...

Ooooooh, egester. Are you goin' all Britsay Lospears on us? Should we stage an intervention?

I have contacted the spirits of both Niko Tinbergen and Stephen Jay Gould, and they assure me that the macaque witticism is hi-freakin'-larious! BTW: That Niko is quite a card.