I'm fighting that cold that everyone has with all of my might. I am eating full cloves of garlic, taking Cold FX, taking Vitamin Cs by the handful, eating well, going to bed early. Not enough people are sneezing into their sleeves. Sleeves are the new hands, after all.
I read in this morning's Ottawa Citizen that everyone should have a survival kit in her home. I do not have one. I do have a bottle of single malt scotch, a can of beans, two cigarettes in the freezer, some matches and a couple of beeswax tea lights, all of which I think are the beginnings of a good survival kit.
Speaking of kits, the famous Megan Butcher just received a mojo kit from the "lovely" David Scrimshaw who apparently knows when young women are in need of a boost. Now, I think this young hottie has mojo to burn, so I'm rather baffled about why Mr.Scrimshaw would seem to think she needs help. She's young, she's witty, she's sexy, she's an erotic writer, she has tattoos of sea creatures on her body. This is not a woman who needs a mojo kit!
I, on the other hand, am in desperate need of a mojo kit. Apparently, Mr.Scrimshaw-- who some have called "Ottawa's most eligible bachelor"-- cannot see when a person needs a mojo kit, and when she is doing just fine without one. I have been struggling here: trying to be a Muse, trying to be intimate, trying to embrace Christmas, fighting a cold. Why does no one make me a mojo kit?
4 comments:
I think a "Mojito Kit" is more your style Dame Aggie. Let me see what I can conjure up for you...
Aggie, help is on the way. The Chair will administer some elixer. And the rest of us will put together a mojo kit for you. And to heck with Mr. Scrimshaw. You don't have a crush on Mr. Scrimshaw, by the way, do you?
If it's mo' joe ya need, I'll pour the coffee. And raise you a biscotto.
But if "sleeves are the new hands", ma'am, where does that leave those of us quadrupeds who sport neither sleeves nor hands? "Knees are the new paws?"
I think I understand how you feel, Aggie.
Y'know I don't like to admit it, but sometimes the wee cottage is a bit lonely for the old dwarf. I had hoped that at Christmas, to keep me company, someone might give me a monster mittens.
But no.
Post a Comment