Showing Off Them Panties

Ok, that title has very little to do with this post, but I am nothing if not salacious, so there ya go. Also, this is a scheduled post, but only because the time on my blogger is all fucked up. So I wrote this forever ago, but when I tried to enter the correct time, it went all crazy and kept yelling at me that they would publish my post when they damn well pleased. Damn you, Blogspot!!! But my fancy friend Vuboq is a big fan of scheduling posts, so that pacified my anger. Now I'm rolling with the scheduling.



The point of all this is ... I recently got off the phone with my friend Georgia, who is a MAJOR.HIPPIE. Seriously, I consider myself to have some hippie tendencies, but this gurl is a true-blue, no-shoe-wearing, dropping-outta-school-to-follow-a-band, using-Jerry-Garcia-as-a-spiritual-advisor (ok, I do this too ... all the time), HIPPIE. And I LOUOUOUVE talking to her, but I had to hang up because I simply couldn't hear her over the racket from the 9 and 10 yr old in the car with her. You might ask why my friend Georgia was travelling at midnight on a Friday with two young chirrens (I sure as hell asked). She and her friend SuzyQ (the mom, another real-life HIPPIE, obviously) were taking the kids on their first crystal-mining experience.

Now, I consider myself a "cool" nanny. And my kids consider me "cool" too (because when they don't I put them in a headlock and tickle them until they fall to the floor in convulsions). But I'm prob not taking The Chirrens Garcia crystal mining anytime soon. I've been doing this hippie schtick for a while now, and I know there are a lot of cool things hippies do in fields at night, but they somehow strike me as less than kid friendly.

Of course, I ain't judging. I don't never judge. And I'm sure that when I have kids that legally belong to me, I'll probably name them all after Grateful Dead songs and take them into fields too. But NannyGarcia just don't play around like that with other folk's chirrens.

In other news, my (allegedly) racist sister just sent me a late night text:

"Remember when I used to make u get me
ice water but wouldn't let u touch the cubes? I made u use a spoon."

I texted back:

"Um, are you fucking kidding me?
Your cruelty haunts my
every
waking moment."