My mom can't come to the blog right now. I've grounded her from the computer until she gets this house into some form of order and does something with her hair other than stick it on top of her head in a plastic clip. Would it KILL her to put on a little lipstick for cryin' out loud? I've hinted as much as I can, and I've snipped out every article there is on taking care of "mature skin", but she doesn't seem to be getting the hint. Let's face it kids....a natural beauty, she's not.
These are my new friends, Beatrice and Eugene. They moved in about a week ago and we've had a few cocktails together. I'm pretty sure Beatrice is expecting, since she seems to be spending a lot of time fixing up a nursery. As for Eugene, he's OK, but we really don't have too much to say to one another. He's into motorsports and tools. I'm into Eddie Izzard and a damn good sherry.
Life here at Chez Spinster continues as always....me peeing on everything in sight and mom pretending not to notice. Every now and then my Aunt Chrissy will come over and give me a disgusted look, and my pesky cousin Bosco tries to play with me. He hasn't figured out yet that although I am a connoisseur of "ball", it must only be played under strict European rules on a suitable court. Besides, my play clothes are all at the dry cleaners, and I refuse to muss my smoking jacket and cravat.
I suppose I'd better run. I've got a mani pedi at 4, and it takes me more than a few minutes to pedal my tricycle to PetSmart. I'd take the car, but the last time I did that I thought the old lady was going to have a stroke. So for now, I'm just going to have to get around the old fashioned way. Oh well, I suppose that it's better for the environment and I can pretend that I'm green chic'.
Stay tuned. I promise she'll write soon if she smartens up. In the meantime...ciao!
With much love,
Master Stewey Angus Willowswamp His Very Little Self