Brass Monkey, That Funky…Pictostorythingy?

My hands hurt. Like a motherfucker. I hope Cinderella didn’t have arthritis; otherwise, scrubbing the floors had to be extra hard work.

So. Me no typey much today. Me piccy. Here, me show you. (Me no know why me talk like Cookie Monster now. But me likey.)

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This bitch is done. P.S. Look at that uglyass TV covering the beautiful windows. I should sell it, but I haven’t played enough video games on it yet. So me keep it.
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My dead birdie friend. Finally figured out how they were getting in, when ANOTHER one flew in. Coming down the damn stove vent. One of the cats instantly caught him in his mouth, but I yelled his name, and he dropped the bird. Got superlucky. The frantic thing fell hit the window (not too hard) and fell down plunk into a trashcan. I covered the can, carried it outside, uncovered it…and he flew away. Happy day. This one, though? Dead as a fucking doornail. And he’s no Jon Snow, so he’s gonna stay dead. LIKE THE HIGH SPARROW. Fuckyeah, my geek is en pointe today.
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Some things I can’t seem to part with, like this olive wood necklace from Israel. Almost all the rest of the crap in the jewelry box was chucked straight into the bin. Anyway. I’ll keep the necklace, even though it now reminds me of a bitchass bitch. OHMYGOSH, this may actually be from my mamaw’s pilgrimage and not my bitchwhore aunt’s trip. I feel better.
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I had to keep these, too. Back when I was teaching, some of my students shared their Mardi Gras beads with me. Oh. But the red and green ones are from Cinco. I should Cinco de Trasho those. Anyway. Also featuring IV bruise. It’s almost gone now. Me sad.
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Contemplating a move to New Zealand. Wanna come with?
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Or Australia. Because kangas. People. People. PEOPLE. AUSTRALIA HAS TREE KANGAROOS. Those are NOT Jim Henson muppets! They’re TREE KANGAS. That is all.
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Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee Totoro! And turtle butt.
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Garry and friends, snuggled up in a bundle of scarves.
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Dudes. I cried when I threw this out. I cried. And one of the poor cats still hasn’t forgiven me for tossing it. He’s been going into the bedroom and standing in front of the spot where it used to sit and just staring. I’m a horrible human being.
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Random sunflower popped up in my yard! This kinda shit makes life worth living.
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Random sunflower’s random younger brother. I call him The Usurper.
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And and and! Mushrooms after the rain! Happy dance!
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Azalea joy.
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Happy Little Azaleas. I hope the eventual new owners love these and don’t murder them. I’m gonna miss ’em.
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Another photo.

And now. For the real purpose of this post.

Happy 4th of Monkeys!

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35 thoughts on “Brass Monkey, That Funky…Pictostorythingy?

  1. ❀! This was a great post. Me likey, Stephy. Great pics.

    I would *definitely* move to ‘Straya with you. Let’s go! I already have some peeps there and since they like me I bet they’d like you too. Kangas rule!

    Liked by 1 person

      1. YES! He scratched through it so much that his butt finally fell through. But there was still paper in the box, so he kept right at it.

        They get so attached to things, don’t they? I guess they aren’t so different from us in that regard.

        Liked by 1 person

      1. I can wait (I’m very good at that πŸ˜‰ ) and then you’ll show them when you’re all settled on your new place in your new city with your fantabulous job πŸ™‚ how about that ???
        Turtle Hugs

        Liked by 1 person

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