Gotta fix my weave and holla!

A couple of things in no particular order:

It was 60 degrees here yesterday. Today it is 11 and sleeting/snowing/icing. Fire tonight!

The Agent has misplaced the combination to our safe sometime around our last move. As you know, she is a stickler for safety and such. If I weren't living here, she'd have a gun secreted away in every room for easy access to guard against intruders. Anyway, we keep our impt paps in the safe and I also put a few things I didn't want destroyed in a fire (remember when I briefly considered simply burning down the house when I realized how much stuff we had to move?). She has no idea where she put the combination and (unusual for me) I apparently never bothered to write it down somewhere. She did not take the lock picking and safe busting course so we are up shit creek for awhile until it turns up. Hopefully, I won't need my birth certificate anytime soon.

ETA (1/16): Combination located! You can now rest easy knowing our important papers and my mom's handcrafted Christmas ornament are safe and accessible. Carry on!

I had a much needed chiropractic adjustment this afternoon..a two week long headache convinced me that it was my neck out of whack so there was adjusting and cracking. It was heaven.

While I was out/about, I of course stopped and got a double mocha and also decided to rent yet another Battlestar Galactica disc. As you know, we have been slowly plodding our way through the past two seasons and right now, we are on Season 2.5, Disc 2. As god is my witness, we will make it through Season 2 before we move, and hopefully, before 3.5 starts! This is why I am reluctant to get involved in too many shows, the commitment is too great. All I have to say is that if the rumors going on about my beloved Starbuck are true, I shall be mightily disappointed. If I watched 3 seasons and lost my object d'lust, I will kick some frakking ass. I do not kid about that. Aside: The blooper video on that link is HI-fucking-larious! I laughed and laughed..

Apropos of nothing, but Jesus H. Christ, how can people actually pay attention to anything Giada De Laurentiis cooks with that kind of cleavage going on? You know I love my Food Network peeps, but Giada is killing me with the decolletage. We've already established my appreciation for all things mammary, but lord, how can I learn Everyday Italian if I can't focus on the food?

Finally, The Agent has an appointment with my beloved Roxanne tomorrow morn. I'm going along for the ride to not only make my own appointment to see her (my hair has grown to ponytail length and is a little too wild for public consumption), but also to meet A for coffee while we wait for gf to get her hair did.

On that note, I will leave with words of wisdom from the great Missy "Misdemeanor" Elliott:

What's up motherfuckers?
I need to know is V-A up in this bitch?
New York, St. Louis, Chicago, Philly, LA, Atlanta
I'm diggin' that
But how about the ladies that got a head full of fake weave or braids
Holla at ya peoples
Oh! C'mon

Ooh baby let me fix my weave
Touch me up and let me fix my weave
You could pick me up about a quarter to 3
Before I walk in the club I gotta fix my weave
(Oh) Baby fix my weave
Baby baby let me fix my weave
On the highway I do above 90
(woo-woo) pull me over get the fake ID

I met a guy named Tommy
Very charming
He was on me like cheese be on macaroni
His game real tight making me so horny
Fine enough for us to fuck and be his baby mommy
You really don't know me
So I moves it slowly
Brush up and let him hold me
Let me spit some baloney
Baby you could call me
If you go down on me
But you got to back up off me
Wearing cubic zirconia
I told him, "Baby let me fix my weave
I got a hair out of place and use a fake ID."
Pepe LePew voulez vous ooh oui
You want to misdemeanor me
You gotta spend more G's (ohhwee)

Ooh baby let me fix my weave
Touch me up and let me fix my weave
You could pick me up about a quarter to 3
Before I walk in the club I gotta fix my weave
(Oohwee) Baby fix my weave
Baby baby let me fix my weave
On the highway I do above 90
(woo-woo) pull me over get the fake ID

I used to date a guy named Chris
Sloppy with his kiss
But he was good with his tongue
I called him Mr. Young One
Mr. Young One had a big ding-dong
Balls the size of ping-pong
I had him souped like won-ton
I put the beat on
And on my ass he skeet on
I put the heat on young gun
Fresh meat he season
Yes, yes we used to creep down the beach
He was insane like Rick James
And with a mask he's Superfreak
I told him, "Gimme cash to fix my weave
And I don't want no excuses 'bout your baby mommy
'cause your child support money don't fix my weave
and you know nigga please me no fuck for free."

To the heavy weave cities
Miami, Jersey, D.C., the Carolinas, Detroit, Louisville, Ohio, to all the
projects
To the beauty salons, and curling irons stitching in that hair
Okay, oohwee yeah fix your weave
Straight up like a perm you heard