There's a spam comment on my last post request the "blog master" of this blog to post more relative information before it goes on to plug some sort of site. The idea of being the blog master of CUSS is almost as hilarious as all of your brilliant comments about the horror of roaches on a plane. I wish I had thought of that spoof. Thank goodness I have such witty friends. Instead, the blog master thing reminds me of Ghost Busters. If I am the Blog Master, who is the Gate Keeper?
As blog master, my recent neglect of CUSS is due to the outrageous prices the hotel I stayed at this past week charged for internet access. It would have been $36 for 24 hours of wi fi. Now, I love blogging, but I can't justify $36 for internet access. When I was out and about, I meant to stop into an internet cafe and give a shout out and check my email, but I was having so mch fun with my sister and her hubby that I forgot to look for a place.
I'm coming home tomorrow, which will be grand, as I have not seen Husband for more than 3 hours in the past two weeks. I miss the bugger very much. While I was gone, he ate at lots of nice restaurants with his brother and sister-in-law. (This is a very fine juxtaposition to the places that I ate at with my sister and brother-in-law, which generally involved some sort of fast food. Sometimes, however, it was Lebanese fast food and in my mind, probably rivaled Husband's gourmet lunch at Jean Georges.) I'm still having a great time out here, as I am with Mara and my cousin, but it is fucking cold, I'm running out of clean clothes, and I am ready to stop paying 2x the marked price of anything I buy thanks to a crap American dollar.
Hopefully, there will be no motherfuckin' roaches on the motherfuckin' plane on the way back, as I think the flight is full. My roach hunting skills (which I will gladly pass on to Alex when she visits, although I hope that there are no targets in my apartment on which to demonstrate) are not as honed for varment killing with lots of innocent bystanders around. Smacking people with newspapers or stomping their toes while attempting to create a filthy insect-free environment may not be appreciated, although everyone hates roaches.*
*Warrior: My friend and I once saw some cute little mice in the bathroom of one of our favorite restaurants. Sadly, I never saw them again, either.
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I thought hubby was posting when I read your title. Blogmaster! That's great!
ReplyDeleteI can't figure it out, I suddenly have this desperate urge to buy tramadol.
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