Get a Haircut & Get A Real Job

I have some stinky news to report.

Today I'm going to start looking for a job and that really blows because I would rather not have a job.

I wish I got royalties from previous husbands.

*Note to self, look into licensing rights before #7.

I really liked my job at Home Depot last year for about a week and then my legs and feet and all my other bones and joints  froze up and quit working and that REALLY sucked. So I guess I need a job where I can sit or stand and I would really like it if I could facebook and talk to people and maybe watch t.v and do crafts and I would LOVE it if I could lay down if I got to tired at my new job.

It sounds like my dream job is being a resident in a nursing home.

Do you know what my other dream job would be? Writing kids books about the farm. One would be about Pooter and Pearl and the adventures they go on and the things that they see.



And another might be about Pepper and Pansy and the places they go and the things that they don't see (because Pepper is blind.)



And then of COURSE there would be a story about Belle and Buddy herding sheep and chasing cows because who doesn't love a story about a lamb and border collie who are co-workers.



I would call them "Fat Bottom Farm" books. Fun huh? I know. But I bet I wouldn't get paid in time to pay the electric bill. Oh well.

Pooter is feeling better. He can walk about ten feet at a time now.



Last Wednesday Wyatt found one of the new chicks in the barnyard with a wonky leg. It looked like someone had stepped on her or something, so we looked her over and put her in a box in the utility room overnight. The next day she was much improved so we put her in Buddy's old playpen with some hay in the garage. Friday morning she looked great and I was going to put her back out with the other chickens right after I fed everyone. Apparently Bart decided to help her out first and accidently pulled her leg off. Believe it or not, Bart likes the chickens, so in his mind he really was helping and I'm sure was just as shocked as you or I would have been had one of us mistakenly pulled her leg off. Anyway, the garage looked like a crime scene as the cooling corpse lay before me so I did what ANYONE would do and wrapped her in a sheet and placed her in the refuse recepticle. As the day went on I was having horrifying flashes of the posessed talking doll from an early 1960's Twighlight Zone episode where a SOB stepfather (played by a young Telly Savalas) took away a little girls favorite doll and tried to cut the head of with a ban saw in the garage but the saw wouldn't cut through and the doll continued to taunt him so he put the doll in the garbage can but then she got out and made her way upstairs and Telly found her in the bed and then fell to his death as he tripped and fell down the stairs trying to escape. Anyway, the chicken wasn't evil, but all day I was afraid she wasn't dead either but I was afraid to go look so when 6 got home he checked and she was STILL alive! Barely. So anyway we warmed her up and doctored what used to be her leg and now she lives in the utility room. She's really friendly albeit a bit leary of Barty, and eating and acting like any other one legged chicken.



This morning when I went to make Wyatt's lunch I opened the fridge and it looked like this...



Mmmmm... Cherry cheesecake. It's whats for breakfast.

I opened the lunch drawer and it looked like this...



Then I looked over to the other drawer and discovered that neurotic #6 had made his own lunch drawer and arranged it like this...



So I did this...



Trust me, he'll freak out and break into a sweat when he see's it >)

Tomorrow if I don't have a job yet I'll tell you about trailerpark school.