I'd rather play at hug o'war

[Error: unknown template qotd]Both. I have two dogs and a cat of my own, and Mom has two dogs and a cat, too. They're very different but neither is any less awesome for it. I don't know what I would do without Boo, Jack, or Abby. (Or Elmo, Max, and Beau either, for that matter; I'm going to miss those little sonsabitches when I move away for grad school.)

As for the roommate situation, they'd have to accept all three of my babies, so.

He's adorable. He's extremely bite-y. He loves to give kisses.

Say hello, Jackson Dexter.

( Hi. )

So. It's raining. This is not news. Out of the past two and half weeks or so, we've had about two days of sun. When the boys walk through the back yard, there is this disgusting sucking noise with each step (think Steve Martin in that scene from Roxanne when he's describing the aliens to the old biddies). Of course, come this summer when the inevitable drought sets in and I'm doing the watering equivalent of musical chairs I'll be ruing this day I complained (oh there will be so much ruage, people).

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Reason one through one million times eleventy why having only a one car garage suckeths muchly.

Mom: [re-enters house] Honey, you need to move your car.
Me: [standing outside bathroom, naked as the day I was born] !!!
Mom: [rightfully interpreting my silence] Nevermind, I'll move your car.
Me: [not really meaning it] Are you sure? Because, like I can't. I'm like totally naked. (Apparently being caught unawares turns me into straight up Valley girl. Who knew.)
Mom: Now I'm totally going to make you move your own damn car.
Me: The neighbors will never recover, Mom.
Mom: Fine. RUIN ALL MY FUN.

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Today is the final day of annakovsky's brilliant serial Life under the Observer Effect. (I'm eagerly, desperately anticipating part 5.) It's The Office fic, Ryan/Pam, Jim/Pam, and oh hell, it's just so wonderful, a lovely little story to fill the ever-increasing void that is the never-ending writer's strike. Great world building, characterizations, banter, very much taking its cues from screwball comedies of old. THANK GOD for AK's recent obsession with Cary Grant is my final word on the subject.

Saw POTC3 Saturday. People are catching onto the whole $5 movie before noon. The theater (and concession stand and parking lot) was packed for just shy of 11am. I am not happy about this.

Anyway, I loved the movie. Mom, too. It was a vast improvement over the second, but the second was a lot of set-up for the awesome payoff in the third. Most on my flist have mentioned everything else I loved (and my few quibbles), but I’ve seen a lack of talk with regards to the ending (this includes the scene following the credits). ( spoilers, spoilers, spoilers. )

And don't hate me, but I REALLY want to see Transformers. Sadly, it only has a tiny bit to do with the fact that Shia stars.

It rained all day yesterday. Like, when Mom flipped over to the Weather Channel at one point, our area was under the orange part of the storm. ALL DAY. RAIN. We didn’t get to have our Pho Bowls at Hot Wok. Max and Boo were in a mood, constantly whining to go out back, and when we’d open the door for them, rain splattering on the linoleum, they’d give us the eyes, as if we had any control over the weather. All in all a sucky-ass, if wonderfully lazy (didn’t get out of my jammies at all) day.