Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Monday, October 29, 2007
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Monday, October 8, 2007
Okay, i live in the Ghetto.
I admit it.
Last night i met an evil little visitor. This is the 2nd cock-a-roach i have met in 2 years, and last night my creepy crawly friend was creepily crawling upon my toothbrush.
The sanctity of my toothbrush has been forever desicrated.
I killed him violently and loudly with much banging of bathroom items. He met an unfavorable end, i am proud to say.
Alas, the toothbrush is gone away as well, perfectly broken in bristles notwithstanding.
When i was young we sang this song (below), the toothbugs (as was explained to me by my mother) were tarter and tooth decay, and general smellyness that we use our toothbrush to eliminate. Toothbugs were NOT something that loitered upon one's brush, waiting for the fun suprise of potential oral hygene thwarted.
“I do not want to clean my teeth, a little boy once cried,
“I’ve washed my face and combed my hair, Thats quite enough,” he sighed;
Some tooth bugs hiding in his mouth, Began to dance in glee;
“At last we’ve found a home,” they cried, “We do not have to flee!”
“This boy has such a nice warm mouth, We’ll linger here all night;
His teeth are filled with bits of food, We’ll eat with all our might!”
The small boy heard their shout of glee, “Get out of there,” he cried;
He grabbed his brush and scrubbed and scrubbed ‘Till every tooth bug died.
PS. The lyrics of my youth were changed to accomidate our pacifist lifestyle, i think in our version the toothbugs were indignant and left the premisis of our mouths, off to find some other poor brat who refused to brush his/her teeth. A violent death, even for toothbugs, was to sad to sing of. Thanks, mum.
Posted by Angela Kohler at 10:14 PM
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Your powder blue electric guitar is in the mail. 10 months late. Please blame Stinky, as it was her job aquire said guitar on your behalf, and in a timely fashion. Or blame Trouble because she is the inforcer in the family and was in charge of pressuring Stinky. We all can't wait for you to make our parents climb the walls with auditory torment.
PS Yes i know the bean's instrument is short a string, i've heard its not important.
Posted by Angela Kohler at 9:35 PM
Posted by Angela Kohler at 8:07 PM
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Thursday, October 4, 2007
(mailham delivering postcarp)
i bought a sweet itty bitty little calendar. Beneath the tidy grid of days is a postcard, perforated to be torn away and sent. One per month.
I am totally doing it.
Merry Christmas, everyone, sorry to ruin the surprise.
PS. How does one go about perforating? perhaps it is like a paper cutter only with pointy teeth...
Posted by Angela Kohler at 9:42 PM
- ► 2010 (39)
- ► 2009 (79)
- ► 2008 (44)
- MADD (mothers against Doughnut Drivers)
- Love Cats.
- Do you want my...
- no one can be uncheered by a balloon
- Some things are too good to be true.
- i drew
- Let the Record Show
- things that look like faces
- Refrigerator adjacent.
- Glutton for Punishment
- Digital Booth
- polar opposite
- stars are fun
- Fragile and Bright
- Keeper of the Silly Hats
- Good Day Sunshine
- I've noticed that cracks in the sidewalk sometimes...
- Roger that.
- Roger Cross
- baby got back.
- Dr Sketchy
- Dont drink, dont smoke, what do you do...
- Agressive Red Wheelie String
- My sister can beat up your sister.
- Straight Bears Dont Wear Stripy Socks
- Paper is Fun
- Words That Are Fun To Say
- 1 trick
- hat pee barf ray, christ tea
- "A overly sensitive heart is an unhappy possession...
- postcard of the month
- ▼ October (38)