There Comes A Time ...

... when you realize you hate all your in-laws. Ok. Maybe not all of them. Ok. Maybe just the one. Ok. Maybe just working on tracking down a current address and phone-number for that one. Still. Its enough to lick the stripe off my candy-cane :(

On the funny side, for those intrepid readers who crave belly-laughs ... It seems I've been calling a WRONG NUMBER politely trying to convince him to give me his contact info for the family address list. As soon as he hears my voice, he hangs up (without even the courtesy of saying "wrong number")! Its taken weeks (and internaltional phone calls) to figure out that I have a wrong number!

But I will NOT be thwarted. No. Not me. Envision my eyes getting squinty and my voice getting ... smoothly soft, like a coiled cobra. Or like Max-the-bunny of Max-n-Ruby. Even now, I'm making plans for this evening, calling a gay-bar in Roswell, New Mexico and asking for a regular named Dwight (an old Army buddy of the distant relative) who might be persuaded with the right code words to give me a phone number. (Lol) (If you only knew how close that was to the truth ... )

Waves

ROFLOL! Mission accomplished, I'm laughing!

If I don't hear from you for a while, I'm going to be worried that you gave the wrong code word, and they sent someone to take care of you...

Leni | 01/27/2007 - 04:48 PM
 
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