OK, earworm engaged.I was never curious enough to look up this song, and for Frenchie me, the lyrics sound like "mais non mais non" (roughly "that's not true/that's not the way to do it" said twice, with a hint of amusement).This song is regularly used as soundtrack in French TV documentaries, generally during a montage scene.
I would just like to Nice Things my weekend. I had three good solid workouts (which are more like play-outs--I put on my waterproof music thing and dance and whathave you in the pool) and bought nice groceries and prepped them for the week and topped off my tank while the weather was warm enough for that not to hurt and cleaned house, a bit, and had a positive talk with DS about pitching in more while he's staying with me, and am up early enough to get my swim in before I go to work, and even though there is a strong streak of toxicity there, I feel ready to face it. And mid-next-week the person who is the primary source of that toxicity will be taking a three-week vaccy, which will mean we can get some work done without drama-rama, YAY! I also bought some new used clothes on eBay which was a WANT not a need--but I'm okay with that.
If it is of help: it will probably be not so much sad as bittersweet. I remember how gently my girl told me that our last walk together was going to be our last walk together, her last car ride was her last car ride, and when the time came, that it was time for her to go. She spent her last night in front of the wood stove, because the heat seemed to help her (it was June), and the last interaction I had with her was her raising up her head with some effort and looking at me and laughing with an expression that said, "Hasn't it all been fun?" and in the morning she was gently gone. And the next week, we could all feel her around us so strongly that I kept putting out food and water for her because I didn't want to hurt her feelings. And on a sunny Sunday morning, we were out on the deck with the light sifting through the green leaves, and I told her we were going to be okay, and she could go now. And she did. And I'm going wherever they go when it's my time to go.
I have to say that my grandmother couldn't cook. No way, no how. She would hide in the apple tree when my grandfather came home. And coo seductively when he'd call to see where she was. Honestly.
Oh no 😭 I loved him in everything I saw.
Dude. Come on, how else do you think Santa gets all those presents delivered to all those kids in that short a time?
I try. Thank you.
US-Canadia failures fall on my bent shoulders. I will eat his family.
NO THERE ARE RULES and I need them.
https://twitter.com/Durotri...
the novelty song "Mahna Mahna,"
OK, earworm engaged.I was never curious enough to look up this song, and for Frenchie me, the lyrics sound like "mais non mais non" (roughly "that's not true/that's not the way to do it" said twice, with a hint of amusement).This song is regularly used as soundtrack in French TV documentaries, generally during a montage scene.
Yes. Yes, she does.
https://uploads.disquscdn.c... https://uploads.disquscdn.c...
" purry home companion"- hahahahaha. Love it!
I would just like to Nice Things my weekend. I had three good solid workouts (which are more like play-outs--I put on my waterproof music thing and dance and whathave you in the pool) and bought nice groceries and prepped them for the week and topped off my tank while the weather was warm enough for that not to hurt and cleaned house, a bit, and had a positive talk with DS about pitching in more while he's staying with me, and am up early enough to get my swim in before I go to work, and even though there is a strong streak of toxicity there, I feel ready to face it. And mid-next-week the person who is the primary source of that toxicity will be taking a three-week vaccy, which will mean we can get some work done without drama-rama, YAY! I also bought some new used clothes on eBay which was a WANT not a need--but I'm okay with that.
Already starting a circus in the hearing...
If it is of help: it will probably be not so much sad as bittersweet. I remember how gently my girl told me that our last walk together was going to be our last walk together, her last car ride was her last car ride, and when the time came, that it was time for her to go. She spent her last night in front of the wood stove, because the heat seemed to help her (it was June), and the last interaction I had with her was her raising up her head with some effort and looking at me and laughing with an expression that said, "Hasn't it all been fun?" and in the morning she was gently gone. And the next week, we could all feel her around us so strongly that I kept putting out food and water for her because I didn't want to hurt her feelings. And on a sunny Sunday morning, we were out on the deck with the light sifting through the green leaves, and I told her we were going to be okay, and she could go now. And she did. And I'm going wherever they go when it's my time to go.
I have to say that my grandmother couldn't cook. No way, no how. She would hide in the apple tree when my grandfather came home. And coo seductively when he'd call to see where she was. Honestly.
Beto looks like he's saying if you take a photo of me licking my butt, you'll regret it.
Goddamned onion ninjas.
Yeah, but it's been happening a LOT. And really? Someone doesn't like you mourning Big Bird's voice?