How to insult someone in 140 characters or less

Alec Baldwin Spews Hate on Bachmann: 'Inarticulate and Full of *&$#%'

I don't care if it's Twitter, saying that somebody is "inarticulate and full of *&$#%" is like lambasting someone for being a "bad speler" or saying that "she have poor grammar skills."  I mean, if the best insults you have are expletives, can you really call someone else inarticulate?  Twitter does permit 140 characters, right?  The following articulate quotations are all less than 140 characters (omitting the bracketed words from the GW quote). 

“The {foolish and wicked} practice of profane cursing and swearing is a vice so mean and low that every person of sense and character detests and despises it.”  George Washington

“Profanity is the weapon of the witless."  Anonymous

"Profanity is the common crutch of the conversational cripple.”  David Keuck

“When a man uses profanity to support an argument, it indicates that either the man or the argument is weak - probably both.”  Anonymous

"Profanity is the attempt of a lazy and feeble mind to express itself forcefully.”  Anonymous

No couch potatoes allowed

I'm making my boys do the Couch-to-5k program.  I think it is so precious? lovely? cool? awesome?  to see them take off down the street side-by-side.

United in their disgust at their mother.

No, really, they'll thank me later.  I can wait 10 or 20 years.

Expect the expected

"Mommy, do you know where the pliers are?"

This question, from Katie, is not a normal occurrence.  I wasn't sure whether I should be proud...or very very worried.

"Why do you want pliers?"

"Oh, we're making necklaces and we need them for the ends."  Of course.  Silly me for getting a bit excited at the prospect that she was spending her summer delving into electric circuitry.

"Did you look in the toolboxes?" I suggested.

"Oh," She said, "OK."  With a shrug that seemed to say: I'll give it a try.  I've looked in all the reasonable places I could think of, why not the toolboxes.

She hasn't returned, so I assume that she found one.

Maybe we'll do circuits next summer.

Rough afternoon

I'm babysitting the most placid 16 month old on the planet.  He's snuggled on my lap with a toy in each hand and staring up at me with his serious brown eyes with sinfully long dark lashes.

If I were his mother, I'd be frustrated that I can't get anything done. 

But since I'm the babysitter, I'll just get caught up on blog reading.

Drying Rack

I walked back into the kitchen after taking my laundry off the drying rack on the back deck to see a half emptied dishwasher gaping open.

For the life of me, I could not recall what distracted me from one task and onto the other.  Phone?  Kids?  No clue. 

Maybe I just preferred spending time with the drying rack.

It's new.  It's awesome.