I've been a bit busy lately.
There's the slightest chance that Shawn will transfer jobs and that this will necessitate a move to that state just south of Georgia that has a lot of oranges.
Like any normal person (bwahahaha!), that means that I've been in a bit of a tizz lately, what with all the dramatic worryings over the what-ifs involved. The main worry is all the To-Do items on the Gilligan's Island house. Holy crap, people...it's like I LIVE with a freakin' paintbrush in my hand; how can it be that so much stuff needs to be painted?!
So, anyway. That's been what's up recently.
While I tried to work on a few things and also do my two part-time jobs, I have let Tank watch more TV than usual. As in, WAY more. And my descent into TV-parenting has been quite the education, let me tell you. For instance, I've begun to ponder some of life's biggest questions:
- why do the kid voice actors on Dora the Explorer and Go, Diego, Go all sound like they're being squeezed? I'm sure it's supposed to sound like ENERGY! and ENTHUSIASM! but it just comes off sounding like a boa constrictor got hold of them. "And WE need YOUR HELP!"
- where are Dora and Diego's parents, anyhow? She's always off tramping over mountains and rainbows and crap and Diego's swinging from vines over hostile terrain and rescuing God-knows-what kind of flea-bitten, diseased creature. Is there no parental supervision in cartoons?
- when the HELL did Fred and Daphne and Velma and Shaggy hook up? Was that really necessary to sell a friggin' CARTOON????
- I can't say anything bad about Kick Buttowski. Kick actually kinda rocks.
- but Curious George. Ohmysweetpantaloons, what the @*$&% is up with that damn monkey?!?! He is the biggest f-up of all time and if I were that man in the yellow hat, I'd have tranq'ed his little monkey butt and sold him to an organ grinder.
- Super Hero Squad. Easily the most annoying theme song of all time. And with catchy lines like, "A Norse is a Norse, of course, of course", who could possibly resist? ME, THAT'S WHO!
- which brings me to the point of all this which is that TV is bad, kids. Bad, bad juju. Leave that stuff alone. Which is what Tank will be doing from now on, since he decided to jump me unexpectedly and rupture my spleen with a Hulk Smash. I had only a split second after hearing him shriek, "HUK SASSSHHH!" to react. I probably saved my large intestine, at least.
Here's hoping your spleen has a great weekend...