Saturday, September 3, 2011

Death By Chenille


I love my bedspread;  but I think it's out to get me.  It's old and the white is not so white and the tufts comprising the pattern are more worn off than on.  And I somehow inhale these tiny puffs all night long.  I wake up coughing like a three pack a day smoker.  No fair!  I can feel the fuzzy stuff back on the roof of my mouth and have to make myself gag to get it off.  Yuck!

(much swankier than mine)
But I just can't part with it.  I purchased it years ago from an online company in Vermont.  This place specialized in old fashioned items and I was on a kick.  Also I never had a bedspread as a child and this was the one I always wanted.  Ah!  Back in the days when I could indulge some desires.  Maybe that's why I keep the damn thing.  Remembrance of things past.

And while I'm on the subject of my imminent murder:  What the hell is up with these damn flies???!!!  I bag up all my garbage.  I cover the dirty laundry hamper.  I close the lid.  (Well, not always.)  I wipe down the counters and I wash my dishes.  So what the freakin' freak?  Where do they come from?  I got nothin' for ya, ya damn hideous insects!  Be freakin' gone!!!




That is all.  Cooler weather and a J-O-B pretty please!!!

No comments:

Post a Comment