Hear ye! Hear ye!
Tonight we watched our Netflix movie. The one we've had for 4 months. Making it a rather expensive movie. Funny how Netflix doesn't call you and say, Hey, do you remember you have a movie out...for 4 months? Of course they don't do that!
It was so worth it though. You simply HAVE HAVE HAVE to see this movie. I cannot wait to watch it again. It's slapstick a lot but, in my humble opinion, absolutely brilliant and hilarious. Pure delight. It's crazy, loud and has the famous Automat scene, which is unreal. I told Mike, It must have been exhausting for the director to make this movie. It doesn't hurt that my favorite star ever, Jean Arthur, is the leading lady. And also stars other character actors loaded with personality. A total screwball with catchy dialogue and fun, fun, fun! The best. I thought. Must watch a few more times to catch all that, ahem, catchy dialogue.
Not a good day, folks! Sinus infection on the prowl. An accident in the family.
But on the good side, my stepson got a promotion at work, GOOD FOR HIM! I was able to get antibiotics, but it took some doing. My nephew turned 15. And we watched the FABULOUS movie.
What a weird day. EXTRA weird.
Nighty night,
KEM
Friday, October 22, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
It's Alexander Scourby. Not Scorby. And finding his picture on Google, he looks nothing like what his voice led me to imagine. I think to listen to the whole Bible takes 80-some hours. Less than 4 days. Pretty impressive, huh?
I'm hoping my fingers don't find Google tonight and punch in Barbara Billingsley. Last night on Yahoo I started reading comments. I was looking for the spot where I had left off last time. The spot never showed. I read all 481 comments. But it was time well spent. I have discovered that I am not the only person who believes mothers, if possible, are better off trying to run the home and not distributing their resources too thin(ly).
My favorite comment was a man who said back when he was a kid he would have run through fire with gasoline pants, just to not miss an episode of Leave It To Beaver. Something like that.
The bottom line is, Barbara Billingsley/June Cleaver charmed the world. She is hands down the favorite TV mom of all time. And that's saying something because she had some pretty stiff competition. Almost everyone is yearning for those simple times when common courtesy and a good dinner on the table were the chief objectives in life. I could live with that, couldn't you?
The other day AOL had a fantastic article on a new problem facing young adults. Homelessness. Some 2 million of them. There was a video of this young man who was homeless, had a horrible upbringing ("I loved my mom but she didn't love me back, really") and suffers with kidney malfunction. Oh, brother. He lived through adults on drugs, abuse, shuffled from home to home, the whole ball of wax.
This not only made me weep, but got me to thinking about fostering children. It's a thought I've carried through the years, but sometimes I forget about it. So, I texted my sister to read this AOL article, which was a nice change from their usual drivel.
She said, Funny, but just this morning I was thinking of fostering children. Then she said she and our mother had talked recently about this lady my mom knows who has fostered many children over the years.
I showed Mike the article. He says I can't take in a foster child until I lead a normal schedule for a year. Rats. But it's uncomfortable to sit by in a nice house and all I need and more when there are 18 year old kids roaming the streets after aging out of foster care.
Well, then, you know, I went to get my blood work done the other day, right after all this foster talk. Remember, but they didn't take my blood work. The point is, when one of those women came up to the desk, she announced to the other woman that she was sorry to take so long but she was handling a call on foster care. WHAT? Those were the first words I heard her speak. She is becoming a foster parent, taking a neighbor's foster kid because of various problems. I couldn't believe it. I read the AOL, talked to my sister who wants to foster, and then a complete stranger says FOSTER. What does it all mean? It has to mean something! I also have a notice posted on my fridge for several months. It was from the church bulletin, FOSTER PARENTS NEEDED. It gives all the info to get started.
Well, the blood work woman started telling me way more than I wanted to know. She kept saying, Now don't tell on me, will you? I think she took one look at me and didn't think I looked fit to foster. You have to be tough. You have to be mean. See, she is taking in a 17 year old boy. But she can handle it 'cause she grew up rough, she knows the speak. I assured her I had no intention of taking a wild and crazy teenager, that I would take a small well behaved child. Ha, ha.
Now, I do have some experience with foster children. Granted, not very much. Two hours a week at AWANA for a year and a half. Several foster children. This one family of 3 siblings, whoa, the girls were so sullen and angry, and only 3 and 4 years old. But they had excellent foster parents and their whole demeanor changed within a few months. The foster parents adopted all three kids, it was a beautiful story.
I'm not saying I will ever actually foster. But I am saying, What can I do? What can we do? We can go into the public schools after hours and teach the Bible through CEF Clubs. We can financially support underprivileged children. We can get involved in countless other organizations and mentor and tutor. Which reminds me, I used to mentor a child, need to get back on it. BTW, that was quite a chapter in my life. Nothing like a unique and lively child to shake up your status quo. Fortunately, I wrote down a lot of things that were said/happened, both with this child and in AWANA. Priceless stuff. I think CDW was the main recipient of that literature. HA!
Oh brother, when I was at the vet for Jazzi's ears to be lasered (yes, you heard that correctly), I read a brochure that said you shouldn't kiss your pets. I'm doomed.
Okay, Quik Chik. I have to be in the mood. I wasn't tonight. Maybe tomorrow? My mom asked me the name of the place I ate in Folkston, GA. 'Cause I raved so about the 8 layer cake they might just pass that way when they drive down to FL. Somehow, I don't think this little joint will spin my mother's wheels. She will need to wear blinders and focus on the cake.
Cakey KEM
I'm hoping my fingers don't find Google tonight and punch in Barbara Billingsley. Last night on Yahoo I started reading comments. I was looking for the spot where I had left off last time. The spot never showed. I read all 481 comments. But it was time well spent. I have discovered that I am not the only person who believes mothers, if possible, are better off trying to run the home and not distributing their resources too thin(ly).
My favorite comment was a man who said back when he was a kid he would have run through fire with gasoline pants, just to not miss an episode of Leave It To Beaver. Something like that.
The bottom line is, Barbara Billingsley/June Cleaver charmed the world. She is hands down the favorite TV mom of all time. And that's saying something because she had some pretty stiff competition. Almost everyone is yearning for those simple times when common courtesy and a good dinner on the table were the chief objectives in life. I could live with that, couldn't you?
The other day AOL had a fantastic article on a new problem facing young adults. Homelessness. Some 2 million of them. There was a video of this young man who was homeless, had a horrible upbringing ("I loved my mom but she didn't love me back, really") and suffers with kidney malfunction. Oh, brother. He lived through adults on drugs, abuse, shuffled from home to home, the whole ball of wax.
This not only made me weep, but got me to thinking about fostering children. It's a thought I've carried through the years, but sometimes I forget about it. So, I texted my sister to read this AOL article, which was a nice change from their usual drivel.
She said, Funny, but just this morning I was thinking of fostering children. Then she said she and our mother had talked recently about this lady my mom knows who has fostered many children over the years.
I showed Mike the article. He says I can't take in a foster child until I lead a normal schedule for a year. Rats. But it's uncomfortable to sit by in a nice house and all I need and more when there are 18 year old kids roaming the streets after aging out of foster care.
Well, then, you know, I went to get my blood work done the other day, right after all this foster talk. Remember, but they didn't take my blood work. The point is, when one of those women came up to the desk, she announced to the other woman that she was sorry to take so long but she was handling a call on foster care. WHAT? Those were the first words I heard her speak. She is becoming a foster parent, taking a neighbor's foster kid because of various problems. I couldn't believe it. I read the AOL, talked to my sister who wants to foster, and then a complete stranger says FOSTER. What does it all mean? It has to mean something! I also have a notice posted on my fridge for several months. It was from the church bulletin, FOSTER PARENTS NEEDED. It gives all the info to get started.
Well, the blood work woman started telling me way more than I wanted to know. She kept saying, Now don't tell on me, will you? I think she took one look at me and didn't think I looked fit to foster. You have to be tough. You have to be mean. See, she is taking in a 17 year old boy. But she can handle it 'cause she grew up rough, she knows the speak. I assured her I had no intention of taking a wild and crazy teenager, that I would take a small well behaved child. Ha, ha.
Now, I do have some experience with foster children. Granted, not very much. Two hours a week at AWANA for a year and a half. Several foster children. This one family of 3 siblings, whoa, the girls were so sullen and angry, and only 3 and 4 years old. But they had excellent foster parents and their whole demeanor changed within a few months. The foster parents adopted all three kids, it was a beautiful story.
I'm not saying I will ever actually foster. But I am saying, What can I do? What can we do? We can go into the public schools after hours and teach the Bible through CEF Clubs. We can financially support underprivileged children. We can get involved in countless other organizations and mentor and tutor. Which reminds me, I used to mentor a child, need to get back on it. BTW, that was quite a chapter in my life. Nothing like a unique and lively child to shake up your status quo. Fortunately, I wrote down a lot of things that were said/happened, both with this child and in AWANA. Priceless stuff. I think CDW was the main recipient of that literature. HA!
Oh brother, when I was at the vet for Jazzi's ears to be lasered (yes, you heard that correctly), I read a brochure that said you shouldn't kiss your pets. I'm doomed.
Okay, Quik Chik. I have to be in the mood. I wasn't tonight. Maybe tomorrow? My mom asked me the name of the place I ate in Folkston, GA. 'Cause I raved so about the 8 layer cake they might just pass that way when they drive down to FL. Somehow, I don't think this little joint will spin my mother's wheels. She will need to wear blinders and focus on the cake.
Cakey KEM
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
It's really too bad Barbara Billingsley died. I read a lot of comments people posted about her and she was universally loved by all, a rare feat. Everyone wants to be just like her or at least have her for their mom (besides our own moms, of course :) She had that something special. It's always hard for me to watch the old shows when one of the main characters dies in real life. Somehow, it's just not quite the same. At least not for a while until I adjust. But my new plan is to work for two hours around the house and then watch an episode of Leave It To Beaver. I will behave like June Cleaver for two hours and then I will reward myself.
Tonight I roasted chicken. Here is a KEM tip. A while back I saw these silicone rubber bands for cooking at Tuesday Morning or somewhere. They went in the drawer at home and stayed there. For a long time. Tonight I thought of them. Well, they deserve the highest accolades. For once, a modern gadget that works. I tied up those little chicken legs with two twists of the silicone band and it was too easy and too perfect. We are talking two seconds flat. No more fighting with twine and lacers and sharp metal pokers or whatever they are, which all fall apart just when you think you finally "got" it. Talk about improvement, these bright beautiful stretchy bands. They are washable and reusable, too. On a scale of 1 to 100, this product gets 100+. And what could be easier, simpler or more useful? Come one everyone, we need to think of something so brilliant and watch the dollars roll in.
Now don't everyone tell me you've been using these bands for the last 15 years. There are a variety of uses for them, too. I shouldn't have thrown out the package that tells you how fabulous they are. Well, just remember, they can stand up to 600 degrees heat, so whatever you need them for, go for it. I do think it said not to use on open flame and something else, too. Uh-oh, what was it?
Everyone's talking about pumpkin chocolate chip muffins. So, I Googled them, and on Joy of Baking found the recipe that appealed to me (mainly because I had all the ingredients and it used butter instead of a keg of oil). Boy, oh, boy, march yourself to Joy of Cooking and you will not be sorry. Best muffins I ever made, hands down.
I could not blog a real blog tonight because cooking does me in. But, now I have food for the next two days, yahoo! Love having food, real food, in the house.
Quik Chik tomorrow or bust.
KEM
Tonight I roasted chicken. Here is a KEM tip. A while back I saw these silicone rubber bands for cooking at Tuesday Morning or somewhere. They went in the drawer at home and stayed there. For a long time. Tonight I thought of them. Well, they deserve the highest accolades. For once, a modern gadget that works. I tied up those little chicken legs with two twists of the silicone band and it was too easy and too perfect. We are talking two seconds flat. No more fighting with twine and lacers and sharp metal pokers or whatever they are, which all fall apart just when you think you finally "got" it. Talk about improvement, these bright beautiful stretchy bands. They are washable and reusable, too. On a scale of 1 to 100, this product gets 100+. And what could be easier, simpler or more useful? Come one everyone, we need to think of something so brilliant and watch the dollars roll in.
Now don't everyone tell me you've been using these bands for the last 15 years. There are a variety of uses for them, too. I shouldn't have thrown out the package that tells you how fabulous they are. Well, just remember, they can stand up to 600 degrees heat, so whatever you need them for, go for it. I do think it said not to use on open flame and something else, too. Uh-oh, what was it?
Everyone's talking about pumpkin chocolate chip muffins. So, I Googled them, and on Joy of Baking found the recipe that appealed to me (mainly because I had all the ingredients and it used butter instead of a keg of oil). Boy, oh, boy, march yourself to Joy of Cooking and you will not be sorry. Best muffins I ever made, hands down.
I could not blog a real blog tonight because cooking does me in. But, now I have food for the next two days, yahoo! Love having food, real food, in the house.
Quik Chik tomorrow or bust.
KEM
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
I think I give up with my hair and shall succumb to an Amish bun. A grey Amish bun. My brother used to say a bun was the worst thing in the world. Of course, he was wrong. A grey Amish bun is the worst thing in the world. But it can't be helped.
And this after I had a brand new great hair cut in Greenville, by Mr. Mod.
My friend in Burlington, NC, wants to know where my blogs have been. I had grandiose ideas to blog away tonight, but instead I spent two hours (not counting clean up) peeling, chopping, spooning in olive oil and roasting carrots, one potato, beets and broccoli, one pizza tray at a time. And what do I have to show for it? I small pile of shrunken, albeit, colorful, shriveled vegetables. I'm just telling them right now, they had better be tasty at tomorrow night's dinner.
Today I was going to get my blood work done. Because, you know, I feel super crummy day in and day out. My sister and I were texting and I told her I guessed I'd go ahead with it today. Even though I feel pretty good today. For me. See, I had the idea they should poke me when I'm feeling particularly crummy, when my blood has something to say. Not when I'm perked up, then what's the point? I don't want to be told I'm normal.
Our conversation went like this:
Laura: How u?
KEM: OK. Going for blood work, I guess.
Laura: You really should!
KEM: Wanted to go on a day I felt super crummy.
Laura: 1111111111111111111111111111111111111QAW CCCCCCCCCCCCCCC0--11O033333....'L999999999999999999999999999999999-[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[;' oH, WAIT A MINUTE, THIS IS rOBBY'S HANDIWORK. hE WAS FISHING AROUND FOR THE LAST REMAINING REMNANT OF HIS MUSKRAT, WHICH SOMEHOW DISINTEGRATED IN MY ABSENCE WHEN i WAS IN gREENVILLE. lET ME TRY THIS AGAIN.
lAURA: Do you feel super crummy today?
KEM: Not as crummy as I'd like.
Well, blogging friends, I went for my blood work. And yet they could not do my blood work because the doctor's directions were wrong. But the lady said, They are doing a lot of tests on you, did you see that? I vaguely said, Yes, I glanced at it. So, it was Providential, because I really need to have my blood work done on a day I feel super crummy, which was not today. I didn't feel super crummy until tonight, manhandling all these root vegetables. Oh rats, I forgot to throw in the onion.
Well, I have to get back in the groove of blogging because too many things happen that I will never remember if I don't write it down then and there. A fact of life. Same wonderful friend from NC said in the absence of new fresh blogs, she caught up reading all my old ones (she was a late comer to the blog, not my fault, I might add).
In her chit-chatty email she said she and her daughter watched Gin, The Dancing Dog. I wrote back and said, Oh, I think I've watched that before, where did you see it, on YouTube?
She wrote back that, HELLO?, I had suggested Gin, The Dancing Dog on one of my blogs, just Google it, I commanded. So they did. And they loved it. Oh, btw, I texted CDW the other day to Goggle something, she loved that.
So, I've concluded that if I have no earthly idea what I've blogged about, then probably nobody else does either. Hmm. What does it all mean?
I do remember telling a friend here in town to watch Gin, The Dancing Dog on YouTube. She, scoffed with perfect scorn and in no uncertain terms that she was NOT going to watch Gin, The Dancing Dog. SHE is the perfect housekeeper, so what do you expect?
Oh rats, while Jazzi and I were walking, I really thought of something I must say in the blog. Apparently, I left it on 43rd Avenue.
But I do need to tell you what happened today on the subject of foster children. And also, from my trip, my story about Quik Chik and Not Your Usual Eight Layer Cake. The Quik Chik story highlights my complete lack of Christian character, but if you think that is something, wait until I tell you about this cake. Also, on my trip, I met up with old friends who are UNREAL people. Have to tell you about that. They, a mother and daughter, are like mannequins come to life. Well, I'm just telling you this now so I won't forget. I'll elaborate later. Not tonight. Also, Jazzi and the Blue Blobs.
My friend in NC noticed that I cannot spell. I do not deny it.
Here is excellent news. If you wind up going to the main post office because your nephew's birthday card has to go out TONIGHT, and not only did you miss the final call from the neighborhood post office, but the goofy card you bought needed additional 17 cents, which I weighed the letter myself, at least. Okay, where am I going with that run-on? Oh, so if you then go to the main post office and think to plug in your brand new Alexander Scorby CD, which you bought to listen to the Bible in the car, you can listen to the first 5 chapters of Matthew driving to and from the main post office. Now that is really something. It really is. I'm so excited. I cannot wait to see how much of the New Testament I can listen to just running around town, maybe in the next month, starting today. I can listen a lot faster than I can read. When I read I get hung up with what I don't understand, but Alexander Scorby doesn't let that slow him down. No Siree, Bob, he just keeps on truckin'. I've made a pact with myself that I will not rewind Mr. Scorby. What I get, I get, and what I don't, due to mind checking out, or what have you, then that is just too bad, we'll get it the next time around. I have great hopes this will improve my listening skills, because I really don't like missing something. You all know that. And I don't mess around, this is the King James Version. Well, I don't mess around with some things. And there is NOBODY like Alexander Scorby and his voice and talent. You should have seen all the versions of taped Bible reading in the Christian book store. Dramatic readings with musical backgrounds. I sincerely think not.
You know what, I think the above paragraph is what I left on 43rd Avenue. Good.
Okay, wrapping up the blog, but at least I made a stab at one tonight. I think something in my blood is gobbling up my blogging cells. Oh yeah, the nurse today kept making jokes about globulin being goblin, since it's Halloween and all. But on the phone to the hospital, which she called with questions about my blood order, I think she kept saying goblin because that's probably always what she says. Those girls were something else, they both reeked of ciggy smoke. Then I had to wait and wait for answers so the one girl called down the hall to the other girl, Where's my lighter? The girl near me said, What'd she say? I said, She wants to know where her lighter is. So she hollered back down the hall, I'll give you a light. Then they both went outside for a smoke. And they were gone long enough for me to read all about charisma in Oprah's magazine. GGSA (Good Gracious Sakes Alive). Do I really want to get my blood work taken at this place? I rather think not. Would you? They said to go call my doctor myself and they'd see me in the morning (we were way past closing time by now). I said, I don't do mornings. And that was that.
Globby, gobby KEM
And this after I had a brand new great hair cut in Greenville, by Mr. Mod.
My friend in Burlington, NC, wants to know where my blogs have been. I had grandiose ideas to blog away tonight, but instead I spent two hours (not counting clean up) peeling, chopping, spooning in olive oil and roasting carrots, one potato, beets and broccoli, one pizza tray at a time. And what do I have to show for it? I small pile of shrunken, albeit, colorful, shriveled vegetables. I'm just telling them right now, they had better be tasty at tomorrow night's dinner.
Today I was going to get my blood work done. Because, you know, I feel super crummy day in and day out. My sister and I were texting and I told her I guessed I'd go ahead with it today. Even though I feel pretty good today. For me. See, I had the idea they should poke me when I'm feeling particularly crummy, when my blood has something to say. Not when I'm perked up, then what's the point? I don't want to be told I'm normal.
Our conversation went like this:
Laura: How u?
KEM: OK. Going for blood work, I guess.
Laura: You really should!
KEM: Wanted to go on a day I felt super crummy.
Laura: 1111111111111111111111111111111111111QAW CCCCCCCCCCCCCCC0--11O033333....'L999999999999999999999999999999999-[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[;' oH, WAIT A MINUTE, THIS IS rOBBY'S HANDIWORK. hE WAS FISHING AROUND FOR THE LAST REMAINING REMNANT OF HIS MUSKRAT, WHICH SOMEHOW DISINTEGRATED IN MY ABSENCE WHEN i WAS IN gREENVILLE. lET ME TRY THIS AGAIN.
lAURA: Do you feel super crummy today?
KEM: Not as crummy as I'd like.
Well, blogging friends, I went for my blood work. And yet they could not do my blood work because the doctor's directions were wrong. But the lady said, They are doing a lot of tests on you, did you see that? I vaguely said, Yes, I glanced at it. So, it was Providential, because I really need to have my blood work done on a day I feel super crummy, which was not today. I didn't feel super crummy until tonight, manhandling all these root vegetables. Oh rats, I forgot to throw in the onion.
Well, I have to get back in the groove of blogging because too many things happen that I will never remember if I don't write it down then and there. A fact of life. Same wonderful friend from NC said in the absence of new fresh blogs, she caught up reading all my old ones (she was a late comer to the blog, not my fault, I might add).
In her chit-chatty email she said she and her daughter watched Gin, The Dancing Dog. I wrote back and said, Oh, I think I've watched that before, where did you see it, on YouTube?
She wrote back that, HELLO?, I had suggested Gin, The Dancing Dog on one of my blogs, just Google it, I commanded. So they did. And they loved it. Oh, btw, I texted CDW the other day to Goggle something, she loved that.
So, I've concluded that if I have no earthly idea what I've blogged about, then probably nobody else does either. Hmm. What does it all mean?
I do remember telling a friend here in town to watch Gin, The Dancing Dog on YouTube. She, scoffed with perfect scorn and in no uncertain terms that she was NOT going to watch Gin, The Dancing Dog. SHE is the perfect housekeeper, so what do you expect?
Oh rats, while Jazzi and I were walking, I really thought of something I must say in the blog. Apparently, I left it on 43rd Avenue.
But I do need to tell you what happened today on the subject of foster children. And also, from my trip, my story about Quik Chik and Not Your Usual Eight Layer Cake. The Quik Chik story highlights my complete lack of Christian character, but if you think that is something, wait until I tell you about this cake. Also, on my trip, I met up with old friends who are UNREAL people. Have to tell you about that. They, a mother and daughter, are like mannequins come to life. Well, I'm just telling you this now so I won't forget. I'll elaborate later. Not tonight. Also, Jazzi and the Blue Blobs.
My friend in NC noticed that I cannot spell. I do not deny it.
Here is excellent news. If you wind up going to the main post office because your nephew's birthday card has to go out TONIGHT, and not only did you miss the final call from the neighborhood post office, but the goofy card you bought needed additional 17 cents, which I weighed the letter myself, at least. Okay, where am I going with that run-on? Oh, so if you then go to the main post office and think to plug in your brand new Alexander Scorby CD, which you bought to listen to the Bible in the car, you can listen to the first 5 chapters of Matthew driving to and from the main post office. Now that is really something. It really is. I'm so excited. I cannot wait to see how much of the New Testament I can listen to just running around town, maybe in the next month, starting today. I can listen a lot faster than I can read. When I read I get hung up with what I don't understand, but Alexander Scorby doesn't let that slow him down. No Siree, Bob, he just keeps on truckin'. I've made a pact with myself that I will not rewind Mr. Scorby. What I get, I get, and what I don't, due to mind checking out, or what have you, then that is just too bad, we'll get it the next time around. I have great hopes this will improve my listening skills, because I really don't like missing something. You all know that. And I don't mess around, this is the King James Version. Well, I don't mess around with some things. And there is NOBODY like Alexander Scorby and his voice and talent. You should have seen all the versions of taped Bible reading in the Christian book store. Dramatic readings with musical backgrounds. I sincerely think not.
You know what, I think the above paragraph is what I left on 43rd Avenue. Good.
Okay, wrapping up the blog, but at least I made a stab at one tonight. I think something in my blood is gobbling up my blogging cells. Oh yeah, the nurse today kept making jokes about globulin being goblin, since it's Halloween and all. But on the phone to the hospital, which she called with questions about my blood order, I think she kept saying goblin because that's probably always what she says. Those girls were something else, they both reeked of ciggy smoke. Then I had to wait and wait for answers so the one girl called down the hall to the other girl, Where's my lighter? The girl near me said, What'd she say? I said, She wants to know where her lighter is. So she hollered back down the hall, I'll give you a light. Then they both went outside for a smoke. And they were gone long enough for me to read all about charisma in Oprah's magazine. GGSA (Good Gracious Sakes Alive). Do I really want to get my blood work taken at this place? I rather think not. Would you? They said to go call my doctor myself and they'd see me in the morning (we were way past closing time by now). I said, I don't do mornings. And that was that.
Globby, gobby KEM
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