I have a walking-giggly-climb-over-the-dog-drink-outta-da-sippy kind of girl….
Archive | 7:57 pm
Halloween ’09
2 NovI have to say, this Halloween was fantabulous. Hubs and I used Sam as our excuse to dress up. He was a pirate and I was, um, well, just tacky I guess. Sam was a Titans cheerleader as you know. We went to a party at a friend’s house for a bit and then made a few stops at the grandparents. Sam had no idea what was going on but seemed to have fun seeing all the weirdos (mainly her parents) out and about.
As requested by my mummy (yuk yuk), here are some pics of the crazy Finn Family.
you know you’re high when…
2 NovToday was a trip to the dentist. A trip to the dentist for any reason means a trip down good ol’ Nitrous Highway for me. Its like a mini-vacation for my brain. I really should be the Nitrous spokesperson because I truly believe that we’d all kiss and make up if we could just get a hit or two every day from the canister.
Anyway, “they” don’t consult me about such things so whatcha’ gonna do? In the meantime, here are some signs that you (or maybe I just mean me) might be high on zee gas…all of these things popped into my head while in the chair today…my kookiness is accentuated on the good stuff…
You start to ponder the important questions in life, like if Rascal Flatts would be as successful if they were called “Rascal Bumps”. Or if there are male dental hygienists because you just realize that you’ve never seen one of those before.
You know the hygienist knows that you are high…and when she asks if you are “doing ok”, you think that is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to you and you really want to hug her for being so concerned.
You worry that the gas mask with the orange nose piece might be making your face look fat. This concerns you because suddenly you find those black glasses with the magnifying attachments that the dentist wears incredibly HAUT.
You wonder if they would rent out a full canister or two of nitrous and the cool hydraulic chair you’re laying in for use at private parties. ‘Cause you’d pay good money for that.
You didn’t get the joke you’re friend told you at lunch but now it suddenly makes perfect sense and is, egads, freakin’ hilarious. At this point you vow to try out for the next season of Last Comic Standing because by golly, you are dayum funny and feel you should share your comedic gift with America.
And if you wonder any of these things while not under the influence of some kind…well, then you are just a crazy person. But I bet you’re fun.
Oh, btw, no cavities mom!
