Cleaning House. Again.

Here are some more little nuggets I've had stuck in the old grey matter:

• You know how I've said over and over and over again that I'm totally terrified of snakes? And clowns? Yeah. Well, the other day, I was weeding in the backyard, and a friggin' 2 foot snake fell from behind a tile I have nailed to the fence and nearly landed right on me. Do you think I was incredibly surprised that a GD snake would even THINK to get back there? Do you think I jumped quick as a bunny up on to The Bench and the 2o or so bags of mulch I had stacked up there and nearly wet myself in the process? I sure as shit did.
• I have a bone to pick with our dear friends The Televisions because after a Saturday night romp with his boyz, T-Bone came home to report that Mr. Television (who is so named for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is because he is forever buying TVs and other electronics for his Man Cave) was STUNNED that we still had the TV we got from a department store nearly 10 years ago with a bunch of wedding gift credit. Yes, it's the "old" tube kind, and no, it's not a flat screen, but it is a well-known brand and works just fine, thank you. That was until SUNDAY morning, not 12 hours after Mr. Television put the stinkeye on it with all his disparaging remarks. He owes us a new TV, right? And if he breathes one word about either of our cars, he is a dead man. Dead! Like our TV. Shit.
• I am in probably the worst shape of my life (so far, anyway), and every time I think about working out, I get really caught up in considering what would be the absolute BEST thing for my pooch, and my butt, and my arms, etc., and so I end up doing absolutely nothing. See? Because I only want to do what really works, if I can just decide what that is exactly. Hmmm. Here's an idea: how about starting with limiting that hand-to-mouth motion I make 4700 times a day? That might help.
• I have a question - since when did little girls' clothes get so slutty? Enough with the spaghetti straps, the shirts that tie up under their non-existent boobs, and the shoes with 3 inch heels. I'm trying to raise a smart, confident young lady, and somehow I think shirts that say "Hottie" in rhinestones and shorts that say "2 Cute 4 U" across the ass send the wrong message. And by the way, she's 7, you perv. Not that that shit will ever be appropriate. I'm convinced that by the time she's a teenager, full-on nudity will be all the rage.
• In one fail swoop through the channels the other night (on the upstairs TV - grrr), I ran across John Ritter, Michael Landon, and Christopher Reeve. Right in a row. Weird.
• I am seriously worried about Cuba Gooding, Jr. and his career choices. I think he's a good actor, and he seems like a nice enough person, so I have to wonder when the statute of limitations is up on his deal with the devil or whatever he's obviously being blackmailed for because seriously! Daddy Day Camp? Snow Dogs? Rat Race? It's like his stock has gone (WAY) down since he won his Oscar - or he owed somebody BIG time for getting him there. I'm just saying, Cuba, you're better than this.

I think that's it. For now. I feel so much better! Have a good weekend, y'all!