spamoetry*

bone a smile
be not side curtain
physical the girl
but leather it's feeble see?
bee not angry!
minute be scissors and short may egg in knot and match a tin
what minute are damp
you decide
doing hand here
asked the count, seeing
I think tail forgot



* poems from spam-brought to you by gmail and C1all!s

I'm a bad mother. And, not the good kind like Shaft.

Each year, the elementary school has a "spirit week" where the kids can really let loose and do wild and crazy things like wear at hat to school or dress backwards-you know crazy. Anyway, the only non-lame day is wacky hair hair day. The kids didn't inherit my messy curls so we usually go with a bed head+spray dye look.
Last Wednesday I took the kids out on the deck, sprayed their hair in these fantastic swirls. A bit later, on Katie's advice, I checked the Spirit week flyer to find that last Wednesday was in fact, not, wacky hair day. Twenty minutes before we had to leave for school, I had to help both kids get a super quick shower.

If this blog were a plant, it would be dead by now.

Ready for a list?

1. I can't listen to regular radio. When I do, I talk back to it. Maybe if Beyonce didn't insist on having a replacement man right away she could figure out why she keeps dating the same guy over and over again.

2. Thinking about that upsets me because it's just a song.

3. "To the left" is really better as an Andrew Bird lyric

4.
I turned twenty-nine on Tuesday. It feels much older than twenty-eight.

5. I went to Europe the other day...


6. This picture totally made my day:


7. seven, seven for no tomorrow.

8. eight, eight, I forget what eight is for.