Saturday, November 8, 2014

Paco tweets, #SingleParentProbs & 'Coping With Cankers: The Mallory Nutt Story'...

PSA: HTML lacking today, folks, mainly lower media at bottom, but please relish in these three snazzy pic faves from Perot last week (and where you can soon find me volunteering! #LydaHillFTW)...
I just tried to hop on the Yelp & give a 5-star for Hollywood Feed off Lovers, as I promised the girls who work there today for always being awesome. But 'hollywood feed' kept changing to 'fredericks of hollywood' so any patience left, gone. Rationality, went on vacay 48 hours ago. After this week something has to be in retrograde as I wouldn't even Yelp away for Pope Francis right now. Snarking away on here may even become challenging.
Why? I have two ulcers in my mouth, approximately the same size of a juicy fruit gum strip, each. And causing more pain than prior chopped index finger, flu shot stabbing, fractured big toe, & college formal hangover fiascos combined, repeatedly watching the gem below temporarily relieves. Solid foods? What are those? Dreams at night in a bed? Whaaat? Guinness World Record Book-worthy napping skills and chicken wing diets are of life, formerly.
Blogger erasing my special edition election post passionately-written for twelve hours, half ignoring a now therapy-thirsty Paco, is of concern no more. Slight lisp & awkward mouth positions acquired, is. Unconscious pain mechanisms adapting to agony (understood only by fellow fever-blister-getters) are sweet, but morphine... can one RX this at the CVS? Swigging sauerkraut juice three times as prescribed today from my fabulous Dr. D at Presby was a failure. On my end, of course. Little X laughed hysterically when it was confirmed I have working gag reflexes. [Cue Lloyd Christmas gif]
Aside from no Blood & Honey in the fridge nor desire/possibility of leaving couch to fix this, I've been single parent to Paco all week; AKA the one chihuahua-spooned. Jessi, my breadwinner roommate & (unsurprisingly) breadwinner authoritative figure to Paco needs to get back to Dallas, for my dramatic sake. Wide awake & restless but thankful for my #TeamWendy/Photobooth/Twitter prodigy's comforting company, always. See screenshot proudly embedded somewhere on here (Blogger's 20th century platform isn't HTML-friendly.)
Tweet's pic where neither of us can look into a camera; not
even commenting on the Gene Simmons tongue Paco
never forgets to reveal.
Tweet me @malloryjn or Paco @popedaddypaco

Alas, Paco made new global playmates (click here for adorable replies), Jessi introduced me to the gem of all gems below, & I could smile for embarrassing Photobooth selfies pain-free. Historical commemoration of a glorious day, if you will, Texas being the only exception. No moving forward on the human race progression calendar occurred here, but I'll keep supporting the superwoman that is Wendy Davis, for the sake of Larry "Secede" Kilgore creatures out there, albeit extremely appreciating the film clip where proclaiming tyranny as Texans' freedom to have a cell phone in the car claims to be unscripted. I mean, comedy this good had to be sketched, you guys.