12:38 p.m. - 2004-10-08
The skies have come together. Surging, thrusting, overflowing. Sending silvery shimmery streaks of wet. Pouring over my hands in a deluge. Skimming my body. Misting my eyes. Stroking cool water on hot flesh.
I either need to get laid, or I'm really fucking happy to see some rain. Seriously, all my poor begonias. My mums. My Bradford pear tree. My gorgeous dogwood!!! Dry. Dead. CRUNCHY! Today is the first day since the first of August that it has rained here. This makes me happy. (yay nature!) I'm not much of a gardener, but I do know that when shit starts to crunch and turn brown, we either need some rain or I am going to have to go to the shed and drag the garden hose out. Thus generating an unnecessarily high amount of work for me every evening. Wandering across the yard, sloooowly, watering my flowers. Then going back over the really brown parts, hoping against all odds that the plant I'm pretty sure is DEAD JIM! will have a miraculous ressurection. Damn you begonia! I just paid $20 for your ungrateful unflowering self!!! How can you forsake your parent? I gave you life, nourishment, a really cute pot made of grey stone with little fleur de les designs! Is this the thanks I get in return for my toils and labors? BAH! To hell with this. I'm selling my house and buying a condo with no yard. I can't kill concrete and brick, now can I?
In other fronts, it's Friday boys and girls. You know what that means.... Miller time! I found a funny debate drinking game on-line so I'm gonna go home and try and get my husband drunk enough to promise to vote for Kerry. Wish me luck. Us smart Americans must use every wile and devious means to convince other, lesser intelligent people to vote for Kerry. Personally, I promised sex, but dear husband doesn't believe me. haha. I even made the appropriately crude joke "Bush for NO BUSH!" But he still ain't budging. Damned dirty conservative husband.