When it wasn’t raining yesterday, my allergies were driving me nuts (OK, nuts-er), so I spent most of the day inside reading, and then watching some British TV on Netflix. On show I was watching is called “Waking the Dead,” which is kind of a cold case, forensics sort of show. One person was lamenting the amount of crap she was having to go through and analyze, including hundreds of smoked cigarettes, or, as she put it, “a bag full of stinky fag butts.” :rofl2: OK, I know that’s kind of a childish thing to laugh at, but I can’t help it; I thought it was pretty funny. I’m tempted to incorporate it into an e-mail signature, but people might take it the wrong way.

I know I’m old and out of the loop as far as what the kids are up to these days, but eyeball licking? Seriously, that’s a thing?

Eyeball licking, a teen fad that started in Japan, can cause blindness, “pink eye” and other health problems, health experts are warning.
[…]
Japanese blog Naver Matome interviewed one concerned teacher who said that he ran into two sixth grade students licking each others’ eyeballs in an equipment room. After he confronted them, they admitted it was popular in their class. His independent survey of students confirmed his fears: One-third of the children admitted to eyeball licking.

When I first saw the headline, I wondered how the hell you could lick your eyeball. But then I realized they were talking about licking each other’s eyeballs.

I hate to be judgmental (and I’ll admit to having licked a thing or two in my day), but eyeballs? That seems kinda gross to me. I wouldn’t want to be on either end of that transaction.

I traded with somebody this week, so today is my long day and I’m stuck here until five o’clock. Kinda sucks, but it’s nice to get it over right at the start of the week. Plus I had a hard time getting my ass out of bed this morning (not that I was asleep, mind you), so it was nice to be able to just hang out in bed for a while. We had some thunderstorms roll in as about 2 AM this morning, and poor Fritzi was not too happy about it. His response is to climb up in bed with me and pant desperately (dripping hot dog spit on me). I need to get him to a doggie psychologist or get him some good drug or something.

Better yet, get me some good drugs.

Oh well, under a half hour to go. Time to start packing up my toys and get ready to go.