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I Spoil You

I don’t think You People realize how lucky you are.  You already get a daily dose of WhatIMeant2say ON DEMAND for free.  And, bundled into this service, you get Private Service Announcements from Wonderbutt the Bulldog about durable dog toys and, uh, well, lots of other stuff.

And, now, you are going to get your very own Winter Weather forecast thrown in.  And you thought I didn’t love you.

I’m tired of this prognosticating Punxsutawney Phil .  What a bunch of mumbo jumbo.  We are IN THE TWENTY-FIRST century, People!  Let’s get a little more scientific here.

For those of you who, along with me, snort at superstition, I am providing you with my very own meteorological prediction based on mathematical/scientifical facts.

Exhibit A: My Favorite Pair of Winter Boots

Exhibit A Closeup: Note the missing heel on the left boot, which is actually my right boot.

I walked around in these for an entire day.  I noticed my right boot made a different sound when it hit the floor, but I was so busy that day that I couldn’t examine it until pretty much everyone but me had noted that I was walking lopsided for a reason.

Exhibit B: The Backup Boots. Only Slightly Chewed By Wonderbutt.

Unfortunately, I could only pull off these boots with pants.  Meaning that half my Winter Wardrobe had become obsolete.

Exhibit B: Two Days Later. This time the right boot is on the right. That's right.

Apparently, my right foot is much heavier than the left, creating a heel inequality that made this particular heel literally fly off my shoe  in fear of its life – making it the Captain Schettino of boot heels.

Now, I must resort to these boots, which I haven’t worn in five years.

Exhibit C: Hussy Boots or Transvestite Santa Boots - Take Your Pick

I do not like the Exhibit C boots.  I don’t even know why I bought them.  Or kept them.  So, basically, I have no Winter Boots.  3/4 of my Winter Wardrobe is relegated to the closet until next November when there are actually more than two pairs of boots left in the stores for me to choose from.

Therefore, after applying my very complicated mathematical formula to this data that has been scientifically collected, I can tell you that, based on the Black Boot Shortage that has suddenly afflicted my closet –

Drum Roll, Please…

We will have six more months of Winter.  Take that, Phil.


October’s Dead Rubber Post by the B even O’er F

Well, as I established in my first Dead Rubber (slang for “boring”) post, I intend to monthly allow myself one post that has very little point and reflects even less thought than usual.  It seems so soon since my first Dead Rubber post, but it has been a month, and I am ready to cut myself some slack.

BOF means Boring Old Fart.  Which leads me to the topic of today’s post – my birthday.  Which is next week.  Yay me.

Believe it or not, I am actually looking forward to it this year.  I don’t remember feeling this excited about a birthday since I was dating Cap’n Firepants and obsessing over getting an engagement ring every time there was a gift-giving occasion.  You know you’ve got it bad when you wake up on Groundhog Day wondering if your sweetheart will find a way to eke some romance out of Puxatawney Phil seeing his shadow.

Last year, I really didn’t care about my birthday.  It was on a week day. I had a million things to do at school and places to chauffeur Dimples after work, so there was nothing special about the day as far as I was concerned.  I did not loathe the day or anything.  I was pretty much lackadaisical (love that word – hope it’s one of the ones in the Adult Spelling Bee in December) about the whole event.  Grateful to have lived another year, of course.  But didn’t see any reason to make a big deal out of it.

For some reason, my attitude has changed this year.  Maybe it’s because I have this “it’s all about me” blog and I am starting to enjoy a little extra attention (although Wonderbutt is the actual star).  Perhaps it’s because I now have Wonderbutt, who happens to share my same birth month, who makes me laugh while I cry every day.

But, I think that it more than likely has to do that they are announcing a new iPhone next week, and I am wa-a-a-a-ay overdue for an upgrade.

Yeah, so in my post, The Curable Romantic, I kind of mentioned that gadgets are the best way to my heart these days.  And, fortunately, Cap’n Firepants is well aware of this.    He has already verified with me that I am interested in the iPhone Nimbus 2000 or whatever they are going to call it.  And I think he has been quite impressed that I haven’t dropped my current iPhone in the river, as I did with my last, non-smart, mentally deficient phone.

So, I think there is a good chance that iPhone >4 will be my birthday “surprise”, although I won’t be able to hold it in my hands on my actual birthday.

I am excited.  Who cares if I am getting old and wrinkly?  As long as Apple keeps finding more ways to take my money every six months and Wonderbutt has more wrinkles than I do, I can deal with it.

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