Thought you might enjoy a chuckle this morning.
A distraught secretary is trying to enlist the help of a graphic designer to help find her missing kitty.
Click on the image to take you to the email exchange.
Hat Tip: Ron Miriello of Miriello Graphico.
Not a bad budget, considering it’s a 3 million plus wedding. Jeff Leatham is rumored to be the florist. Considering his style that’s a lot of flower power. Here’s a pic of what he did for Eva Longoria.
Cherry Bomb
Well I lived on the outskirts of town
In an eight room farmhouse, baby
When my brothers and friends were around
There was always somethin’ doin’
Had me a couple of real nice girlfriends
Stopped by to see me every once in a while
When I think back about those days
All I can do is sit and smile
That’s when a sport was a sport
And groovin’ was groovin’
And dancin’ meant everything
We were young and we were improvin’
Laughin’, laughin’ with our friends
Holdin’ hands meant somethin’, baby
Outside the club, ‘Cherry Bomb’
Our hearts were really thumpin’
Say, “Yeah yeah yeah”
Say, “Yeah yeah yeah”
The winter days, they last forever
But the weekends went by so quick
Went ridin’ around this little country town
We were goin’ nuts, girl, out in the sticks
One night, me with my big mouth
A couple guys had to put me in my place
When I see those guys these days
We just laugh and say, “Do you remember when
That’s when a sport was a sport
And groovin’ was groovin’
And dancin’ meant everything?”
We were young and we were improvin’
Laughin’, laughin’ with our friends
Holdin’ hands meant somethin’, baby
Outside the club, ‘Cherry Bomb’
Our hearts were really thumpin’
Say, “Yeah yeah yeah”
Say, “Yeah yeah yeah”
Alright
Say, “Yeah yeah yeah”
Say, “Yeah yeah yeah”
Seventeen has turned thirty-five
I’m surprised that we’re still livin’
If we’ve done any wrong
I hope that we’re forgiven
Got a few kids of my own
And some days I still don’t know what to do
I hope that they’re not laughing too loud
When they hear me talkin’ like this to you
That’s when a sport was a sport
And groovin’ was groovin’
And dancin’ meant everything?”
We were young and we were improvin’
Laughin’, laughin’ with our friends
Holdin’ hands meant so much, baby
Outside the club, ‘Cherry Bomb’
Our hearts were really thumpin’
Say, “Yeah yeah yeah”
Say, “Yeah yeah yeah”
John Cougar Mellencamp
As I write this Musing, Milo (our cat) is cuddled up on my adding machine snoring. I don’t know what his fascination with keyboards is, perhaps it’s form fitting but sometimes its downright irritating; like the time I had to close 10,000 instances of Firefox because he fell asleep on the PC keyboard. I finally had to re-boot the computer. Still he’s pretty damned adorable.
George on the other hand was not so adorable yesterday (out of character I know). We’ve been training her to stay indoors with the shop door open, and generally she’s pretty good at it, that is as long as I’m in the shop. So I go to get dinner last night about an hour before the shop closed…
While I was away Sushi Performance and Visual Arts Gallery (our neighbor) called to inform La that George had wandered into the gallery while they were setting up for an AjA Project fundraiser.
An “anybody seen my dog…?” moment.
Now Milo has decided to drink out of the Christian Tortu vase with the Flame Calla Lily.
Sheesh.
Two days later….
Sigh. Had a few things to say but wiser souls than me suggested that I not; they’re right of course but I hate being told what to do.
ComicCon is in full swing and the pedicabs are lined up across the street taking ComiKazes to the convention center. I didn’t realize that kids went to this thing, it’s sweet to see the little tikes dressed up as their favorite action hero. Kinda like Halloween in the middle of July. My take on the event? It puts people to work I’m all for it and we got a good gig from it too. The pedicabs are a real pain though.
Four days later…
You might think writing this is easy.
It’s not. It’s not easy.
Thanks to Nick we took the little Xman to his first ballgame last week. Killer seats behind home plate about 6 rows up. I had to wait 53 years for seats like that, Xander only had to wait three weeks. I hope he appreciates it. Cute little fella don’t you think?
Words/Phrases I’d like to see retired from the American Lexicon.
• These tough economic times.
• Debt Relief
• Are you in trouble with the IRS?
• (insert your tribe here)-American
• Stimulus
• Comprehensive Anything
• Invest in Gold!
• Racist
• Short Sale
• Default
What word/phrase would you like to see retired?
“Poor Honest Men”
Your jar of Virginny
Will cost you a guinea,
Which you reckon too much by five shillings or ten;
But light your churchwarden
And judge it according,
When I’ve told you the troubles of poor honest men.
From the Capes of the Delaware,
As you are well aware,
We sail which tobacco for England-but then,
Our own British cruisers,
They watch us come through, sirs,
And they press half a score of us poor honest men!
Or if by quick sailing
(Thick weather prevailing )
We leave them behind ( as we do now and then)
We are sure of a gun from
Each frigate we run from,
Which is often destruction to poor honest men!
Broadsides the Atlantic
We tumble short-handed,
With shot-holes to plug and new canvas to bend;
And off the Azores,
Dutch, Dons and Monsieurs
Are waiting to terrify poor honest men.
Napoleon’s embargo
Is laid on all cargo
Which comfort or aid to King George may intend;
And since roll, twist and leaf,
Of all comforts is chief,
They try for to steal it from poor honest men!
With no heart for fight,
We take refuge in flight,
But fire as we run, our retreat to defend;
Until our stern-chasers
Cut up her fore-braces,
And she flies off the wind from us poor honest men!
‘Twix’ the Forties and Fifties,
South-eastward the drift is,
And so, when we think we are making Land’s End
Alas, it is Ushant
With half the King’s Navy
Blockading French ports against poor honest men!
But they may not quit station
(Which is our salvation )
So swiftly we stand to the Nor’ard again;
And finding the tail of
A homeward-bound convoy,
We slip past the Scillies like poor honest men.
‘Twix’ the Lizard and Dover,
We hand our stuff over,
Though I may not inform how we do it, nor when.
But a light on each quarter,
Low down on the water,
Is well understanded by poor honest men.
Even then we have dangers,
From meddlesome strangers,
Who spy on our business and are not content
To take a smooth answer,
Except with a handspike . . .
And they say they are murdered by poor honest men!
To be drowned or be shot
Is our natural lot,
Why should we, moreover, be hanged in the end—
After all our great pains
For to dangle in chains
As though we were smugglers, not poor honest men?
Rudyard Kipling
