6.09.2007

Typical

In typical Circus fashion today, we have a variety of things going on.

  • There is a man fixing our dryer in the laundry room
  • The diningroom is full of the items that are supposed to be in our laundry room
  • The dishwasher is running the kitchen
  • Hubby is out on his motorcycle (he invited me to go with, but I forgot to find someone to watch the kids until it was too late)
  • The kids are running amock. First in the playroom, then the bedrooms, then the backyard, and now the front yard. We have one extra clown here today -- one of Punkin's friends. She's been here about 35 minutes.
  • Lunch will be served in about an hour.
  • I've straightened up some of the house, and as always, there is more to be done.
  • Which is precisely why I'm sitting here at my computer. I'm in full on procrastination mode.


  • Even though my body is in procrastination mode, my mind is running a mile a minute. Things that need to be done, things that I would like to do, and things I would like someone else to get done for me so I don't have to do them are all running around in my head. I have a bit of a backlog of blog posts I would like to make, too. That's why my blog posts are a bit disjointed and include things like this:

    - - - - - - - - - -

    If you had been eavesdropping around the Circus lately, you would have heard this:

  • Mom, he has my cow.
    "Buddy, give her back her cow."
    When I motioned to Sweet Pea to go back into the livingroom where her siblings were playing, she threw something that was red and then flopped down onto the carpet, where she sat Indian-style glaring at me.

    I didn't see the object she threw, and I didn't hear it make an impact, so I couldn't imagine what it was.

    "What did you throw?"

    She straightened out her legs, and flopped them down onto the carpet in answer to my question. That's when I figured out what she threw.

    "Oh! You threw a fit!"


  • Buddy, who is in a "Spiderman Phase" lately talks about Spiderman and "The Geen Globlin."


  • Mom, while you were in the shower, Mr. B (our neighbor) came over. He brought Dad's bike back, and he told me to tell you he was borrowing Dad's "Double D 40" from the garage. I was confused for a moment about what she just said. Trust me, NO ONE in this house has anything that even remotely resembles "Double D 40". That's when it hit me. Our neighbor borrowed Hubby's WD-40.

  • - - - - - - - - - -

    Fun at work:
    It was mentioned to me that the biographies for our management team were a bit outdated on our intranet site. I know biographies is a low priority for them, but I put out the "please update your bios and return them to me" notice out there.

    One gentleman has been at our company for about five years, and has never turned in a biography. Not a big deal, but I had done one for him so his was not blank on our intranet. It read like this:

    No biographic information is yet available for this manager. Apparently, he just beamed in from some unknown universe with no memory of where he'd been, nor what he'd been doing. We're still working on piecing his history together. Once our investigation is complete, we'll announce our findings.


    In a moment where I was feeling clever and fiesty, I updated that to include this:
    Update, June 2007: Our investigation continues. This is what we have uncovered to date: Prior to coming to our company, this manager was Grand Poobah of the little people for several years until being overthrown in the great mutiny of 1967. In order to escape being burned at the stake, he stowed away on the Good Ship Lollipop just before it set sail. Always striving to improve himself, and not content to swab decks for the rest of his days, he worked his way up through the ranks. He became known as the infamous "Captain Manager" when his ship ran aground overseas. He lay on the beach, coughing up seawater, wearing a stray starfish on his head, when he was spotted by the royal guard and taken back to the castle. The King raised him as his own son. After the King's death in 1980, this manager served as King of Spain until tabloid headlines and paparazzi forced him to flee the country in 1995.


    I'm *pretty sure* he'll think this is funny. Heh. I know his assistant did.

    - - - - - - - - - -

    Ok, ok, ok... I think it's time to get myself up out of this chair.

    Another "mostly picture" post to come soon. Maybe sooner than I expect if I can't bring myself to get that laundry room put back together...

    Have a great day!

    6 comments:

    Ortizzle said...

    Very entertaining, C.K. Particularly the fake bio, *snort*. You might want to tack this onto the end:

    The real King of Spain, Juan Carlos I, was blithely unaware that someone had been usurping his power for 15 years until seeing articles in the tabloids. His wife, Queen SofĂ­a, was even more surprised, especially since she could have been leading a double life all of those years, gallivanting around with an American who secretly called himself 'Captain Manager.' ...

    Have a good weekend. And get a babysitter for the kiddiewinks so you can take a spin on the motorcycle!

    Lynn said...

    Nobody in this house has anything that resembles a Double D 40 anything either! Funny stuff, Kelli!!! You have just inspired a post for me. Hopefully, I'll get to it soon. Procrastination, you know.

    Brudder doug said...

    I used to have trouble getting things straight, and I stoo dill.

    Circus Kelli said...

    Ortizzle - Ha! Thanks for that! I will add it!

    Lynn - Yay! I'm glad I inspired you, even if it's for a moment.

    Brudder - You are the mordwaster, for sure.

    sharkey said...

    Oh honey, if you're a procrastinator, I don't even wanna TALK about what I am!

    The fake bio is great--if that doesn't inspire him to write a blurb, nothing will!

    Bone Machine said...

    Is nothing sacred when bovine thievery takes place?

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