The Face o' Panic reached a new stage of alarm earlier this week when it learned that Ndugu, Disgruntled Tort extraordinnaire, has morphed into Ndugu, Disgruntled Tort Who Weighs Nearly a Kilogram. He knows he's not supposed to get bigger until we can afford to buy a new house in Seattle (oops, make that slightly used recycling bin, with housing prices climbing and all). Sure, he looks small in this photo, but this was before the impressive 200+ gram weight gain.
Just when the Face thought it could relax, a new reason for dismay arose, on her damn birthday no less (which is itself a cause for Dismay, thanks to the many, many people out there who still think the "quarter of a century" remark is somehow amusing). This, oh women of the world, is the husband. Sure, he looks innocent enough, but thanks to a mishap with some pasta sauce earlier, he is wearing MY DAMNED JEANS...and they fit him better than me.
Seriously. Can you blame the Face if it's a little perturbed by the cruelties of life?
3 comments:
Hmmmm...tulips or underperforming embarassment of a football game? I think I'm going to side with the evil girl on this one - although I'd have let the guy go to the game and just gone to see the tulips myself.
We shall not argue which gender merits the label. I'd win anyway. ;)
Oops, sorry, meant "team," not "game."
Still don't see why sports automatically win over tulips, though. The tulip festival really does only last a weekend or two, and there's definitely a peak season.
Anyway, I think we should all just accept the fact that we think differently - what's logical to us isn't to you and vice-versa. Although we're usually right. (Joke)
Yeah, I figured. There needs to be some sort of sarcasm/joking indicator for internet text.
Hope the term's getting a little better!
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