The 700 Club?

I’m not sure whether this is precisely the 700th entry or if this is number 701 (which is also a fine number in itself. I don’t want to dis 701 over 700 because I feel 701 gets mightily overlooked there sitting next to its much rounder and more milestonish younger sib 700) but anyway, there are officially, I believe, 700 or more entries in the booniverse. Huzzah! Unless it does count draft entries, which I think it does not but I’m not really sure but if it does then this might just be officially 697 seeings as I have 2 JSFRs in the wings.

Screw it, I’m talking like Pillsy now. I officially declare this entry magic entry 700 or 701 (your pick) because it’s my blog and I can do that. Plus, Movable Type does keep a record of number of entries and it said 699 last I looked so I’m going to go with that. If you want to count them all up, be my guest. I aint gonna because I’m a Cheeto Butt and 700/701 is good enough for me. Cheeeeeeeeeeto.

I’ll get the “painful to my mother” part over really quick like. Don’t worry mums, it’ll be just like taking off a band-aid. One short paragraph, a little ouch and we’ll be on our way. Yes, I’m talking about WoW! Actually, we did a whole lot of squadda (heh, that’s my nada and squat combo word. I get extra damage points for that) because everybody and their brother’s brother were playing where we wanted to go and nothing was droping anything I needed to complete a quest. I take a weenie gnome through this area and critters are handing me their quest items (along with a packet of BBQ sauce) left and right but my dr00d? My dr00d who can take these things on monstero-y-druido? Nothing. BAH! So we headed on over to the town of Booty Bay (Hee! That makes me giggle every time) where I bought two more parrots to keep the Goddamned Parrot company. I had a whole plan in which my dr00d and an entire flock (or 4, as there are only 4 different parrots in the game) would go flitting about the world. We would be hip, we would be cool, we would have fantastically loud plumage. Except it seems you can only have one pet out at a time. Grrr. There go my dreams of being the avian queen.

Meh, we didn’t really have plans and since we really couldn’t do anything I suppose that meant we met our objective right? Works for me! 700/701!!

Heh, OK, two paragraphs but really, it usually take me two yanks to get the band-aid off so we’re still on target. Mostly.

Also on target, or at least topic, I have a question for my eyelashes. Why do you little buggers insist on growing into my eyeballs at the very corners of my eye? Aren’t people’s eyelashes supposed to grow perpendicular to the eye lash line and there by grow OUT from the very sensitive eyeball? Not you, my little angry eyelashes, instead you grow in a more perspective line arrangement on my eyelid so that while the front and center eyelashes do their out from the eyeball lash thing, the ones at the very edge lie all flat and owwie on my eye. That’s my freekin eye! That’s just very not right and I want to speak to your supervisors about this.

Let me tell you, dear readers, trying to tweez small blond and very pokey eyelashes out of the corners of your eyelids with a big giant metal POINTY pair of tweezers is not fun. No, not so much. See, because those damned little buggers wont grow outward, I have to gently lift and roll my upper eyelid in order to get them off my eyeball (cuz I’m sure as heck not going a tweezing with them snuggling up to my peeper. No siree Bob!) which means that my eyelash riddled eyeball is totally useless for looking at where the damn eyelashes are. Plus, it’s a cross hand tweez operation (because it always is. No matter what the ow, my body makes sure it’s the more inconvenient ow. Right eye cranky lash, dominant right tweezer hand? No problemo. Grab, pull, done, wala. But, as is more often the case than not, it was the other eye) so I can’t really exactly see where the lashes are, just a sort of hint of lash. This leads to a lot of false hits and a very angry eye by the end of the night. I can’t tell if I got all the offending lashes because my eyeball is extremely angry about the lashes I did pull plus my constant poking around trying to get the right angle for pulling.

Eyes are big whiners like that. Get a big old something stuck in there and your eye will complain for hours after you’ve removed whatever it was so that sometimes it feels like you never pulled the whatever it was out. BAH!

OK! I’m about out of stuff and on the verge of rambling. See yas later!


Last year at the booniverse: I can not say “double yolk” without thinking (or saying) “double yolker” and hearing it in a chicken run Rocky voice. I also tend to pat my stomach too, which is disturbing

Last last year at the booniverse: Since fire was still working and we had MEAT in the freezer we had us an old fashion cook out for dinner. Hee.

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