you're gonna hafta buy a ticket to the gun show...

...if you're gonna hang out with me. because after thursday, i am going to have some severely sculpted arms. i mean, guns. i'm going to be one of those incredibly self-centered people that walks around in tank tops and wife beaters with my ripped arms and muscle-y shoulders hanging out just because i can. and then i'm going to get a tan so orange and so fake i look like a yam.

you're probably asking, "superjanel, why on earth would you want to look like a yam with muscle-y mr. potato head arms?" and i'd say, "why, reader, that's a fantastic question. and the answer to this question is this: we're getting a second pootie! another boxer! another furry face to wake up to in the morning! and walking this, this second yet-to-be-named puppy, along with our current hoss of a doggie, will give me rock solid arms and shoulders because i will have one dog on each arm, each exerting about 400 pounds of puppy pressure."

either that, or i'll have only one arm. or no arms. i could potentially look like the drummer from def leppard. or worse. i could look like a yam with ONE muscle-y mr. potato head arm. i could start a yam band. a one-yam band. a one-yam, one-arm band.

if i were a yam, with one really strong arm, i think this is what i'd look like. maybe. i don't know. but that's some really AWESOME hair.

no, but really, we're getting another dog. a six-month old boxer puppy that is in need of a home - one of our neighbors has to get rid of his puppy before his pregnant wife gets rid of it for him. and as such we have agreed to adopt his puppy before something bad happens to it. and i'm uber excited about it, because i think a brother for kingsley will be a good thing. surprisingly, the bee was all for it - but he hasn't been home for two weeks to see the lil' monster that the pootie can be at times, either. so the idea of two little monsters hasn't crossed his mind. but it'll be fun.

puppies are fun. except for when they're not fun.

speaking of the bee, i hear he may get to come home on thursday, exactly 15 days after he left. when he was leaving, his boss told him to pack clothes for 2-3 days. that's not very much underwear. i feel sorry for him - i mean, the money is good, don't get me wrong, but eventually you get to a point where the money doesn't matter much anymore and you just want to sleep in your own bed, you know? and i can't even begin to tell you how much i miss him. which surprises me more than i ever would have guessed - sorry to say. the first few days were okay - a little time apart isn't such a bad thing, but this has dragged on and on to the point of ridiculousness. and i can't wait to see him.

tv shows on the spanish channels always look more interesting than tv shows in english. senora bellon was right - i shouldn't have flunked spanish in high school. damn it.