Ah dear reader(s), two squirrels have come to visit me this morning, busy scurrying up and down the telephone pole outside my window. Reminds me of Mr. Wong’s pet squirrel Ollie back at CSG in the early 1980s, who he would feed while simultaneously showing us the thousands of dollars he won from a recent trip to Vegas. Good ole Mr. Wong, rest in peace dear friend, I hope you are up in heaven teaching Andi craps and how to appropriately play the slot machines and tables.
Lily was busy last night peeing on my recliner, and Legs keeps having dumps wherever he sleeps. Guess we are all a mess here, so fingers crossed Michael finds us a house cleaner soon. All I seem capable doing lately is writing my blog, drinking coffee, grocery shopping and cooking, with occasional trips to mom’s to do my art. Recovery from “episodes” is a bitch, and can take months and months, plus this medicine I’m on has terrible side effects so there’s that to contend with on a daily basis. I take comfort in the books that surround me, even though I can’t read them. I can though look at the pictures, and remember back to the time when I first saw them. Maybe just having books in shelves is part of the healing process, and saved recipes in my NYT Cooking app. Completely tidy storage will never be my bag, but so be it. I’m just going to do me and see where the dice lands.
Speaking of dice, I know on one of those paintings in the scary stack down in the basement I affixed some dice up in a corner…the piece is almost destroyed, but the dice are intact. Who knows what I was trying to say. Maybe a comment on soon to be established Hollywood Casino? Oh, I just need to relax about the basement art, yet I know it’s down there and I want it out. I guess we just start with the Barbie piece and get that to Fetter’s office pronto and go from there. He said he’s seen some disturbing stuff in his day, so maybe I just stop worrying about it. We shall see.
The Blue Jackets have a contest going on now where the winner gets to go to Vegas…I wonder if they are offering accommodations at the Luxor where we stayed when we went to Vegas years ago. Sweet Michael, he was approached and tag teamed by ladies of the night Cinnamon and Jasmine in the hotel bar, while I was up slumbering away in my Fredericks of Hollywood fishnet catsuit. What a trip that was, Michael kept me on a strict gambling budget of $60.00, all of which I lost in the slot machines. Oh well. Michael did well at the tables and we had a wonderful, romantic steak dinner at the Charlie Palmer Four Season’s Restaurant in the Mandalay Bay place (I think that’s the name?). Wonder if we will ever make it back to Vegas to catch an America’s Got Talent act? Or maybe a burlesque show at the very least.
No, something tells me I’ll never get out of Ohio, save if I grab the bull by the horns, just get my own credit card from Chase Sapphire and sneak off to the airport and fly away…but alas, I’ve done that out of state traveling on my own and I only got as far as the outskirts of Detroit with an APB out for me. Nope, traveling solo ain’t the way to go for me. Guess I’ll always need a chaperone. Such is life.
No real plans for today, save for cooking my standard brunch and a NYT roast. The Cincinnati Bengals are playing the Kansas City Chiefs, but I don’t really have any skin in the game. I know that Wastebook football group I was in was filled with Chiefs fans, so I’m obviously drawn to my Who Dey homeboys to take this to the house and win all the marbles. Joe Cool Burrows is always fun to watch, so we’ll see what he has up his sleeve. Sunday football. It’s an American institution. Have a good day all. I’m gonna try.
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