Aces and I are trying to get Luna The Fashion Kitty to appear at Peaches' birthday party. A tricycle, a dress with goats on it and a guest kitty--don't that sound like the perfect birthday for a 2 year old? And cake, of course.
The Scottsdale escort agency is looking for a weekend manager again. I am again tempted to apply, although furthering prostitution through effective management makes me feel gross. But life experience equals material, and I feel I have little life experience, hence the vague interest in the job.
I just learned this week that the song "Whistle Bait" is a rockabilly classic, and not written by Frank Portman as I had assumed. I am so dense sometimes.
I fell for the "only at Fry's" advertisement for the SweeTango apple. They taste better at room temperature. The flavor comes out as more complex, but it's still very sweet. The name is ridiculous, though.