Random Thursday (ˈrandəm ˈTHərzdā): the day on which Sarah plunks down all the odd bits and pieces she’s been sent by friends or has otherwise stumbled upon this week in an effort to avoid writing a real post, the assembly of which usually ends up taking twice as much time as sitting down and creating actual content.
Is it just me, or has this week had nine days in it since Monday?
__________________
Happy Flappies
I saw a lawn dolphin pawsing for tree eggs today. It was scroovy.
oooooooooooooOOOOOOooooooooooooo
La det gå
Unless you’ve been under a sizeable rock with no children or YouTube, you’ve heard that one song from Frozen.
More. Than. Once.
Here it is again. But different.
This kids and I have decided we’d like to hear the whole thing in a Japanese version, a Serbian version, a Russian version, a Norwegian version, a Danish version, and in Flemish.
No rush, Disney.
And if you’d like to hear how I might sing it, after a decade or two of training and a larynx transplant,
There’s an alto parody, too.
(watch out for the kind of language I’d definitely use, too, if I ever tried it)
oooooooooooooOOOOOOooooooooooooo
My GrandBoo
After some careful thought, and the surprising discovery that all her friends actually did have one, we bought Jane a iPod for her birthday, ostensibly so she could text and Face Time them through our WiFi.
She owned it for two glorious, giddy days before we grounded her and took it away for a week.
Unfortunately, she’d already adopted a gumdrop downloaded a virtual pet app called My Boo.
I’d passworded her in so she could get it from the iStore, but I didn’t think anything of it until the third day, when I plugged the iPod in and this whimper came out of the speaker. When I slid open the screen, messages started popping up.
I want to play!
I’m hungry!
I’m dirty and need a bath!
I’m so lonely! Where are you?
Don’t you love me anymore?
>cough . . . . wheeze<
I opened the app. I shouldn’t have opened the app.
It was so . . . I’ve never in my life seen . . . I couldn’t just . . . PETe-A would have flamed our accounts and broken in to free our router.
So I washed the pathetic little blob and fed it and played about a million mini games to fill up its little hollow heart . . . for four days.
What was I gonna do? Let it suffer?
When Jane was allowed to have the iPod back, I unlocked it for her.
Slowly.
“C’mon, Mom! Gimme!” she said. “My poor Boo must be starving to death . . . Wait—how did I get to level twenty-two? And why do I have seven thousand coins?”
“I have no idea,” I said. “Go play in your room until bedtime. But don’t just feed her cupcakes if she gets hungry—you have the money for sushi now, feed her sushi. And have her back in her charger by nine, you hear me?”
“Right . . .” she said, walking away before I could tell her to leave the bubblegum game on pause—I’d just figured out how to foil those stupid bees . . .
oooooooooooooOOOOOOooooooooooooo
Old Favorite, New Style
Here’s a nostalgic, acapella earworm for those of you who grew up on Sesame Street.
I guarantee you’ll be counting in tune for the rest of the week.
You’re welcome!
Go ahead and click on the C is for Cookie/Rubber Ducky Mashup at the end–
you know you want to!
Earful of Cider 