This is your typical "where have I been?" post that people write when they suddenly disappear from the blogging world for a week.
The Viper household suffered a very unexpected death in the family last week, and we have been mourning the loss of our dear departed Papou. As such, I haven't felt much like writing.
And as you can imagine, the running has taken a back seat to supporting Mrs. Viper and the rest of the family. We're just trying to get back to some sense of normal. I'll catch on the flip side of the weekend.
Back Talk
Wherein nobody commented on my nonexistent posts
We'll turn today's comments section into a live chat. Have at it. I'll try to keep up with the avalanche of remarks you're surely about to submit.
Happy Hour is nearly upon us, teammates! Have a finely brewed weekend. Run well and drink well. Cheers!
15 comments:
I'll kick things off...who are you wearing?
Whitney Houston's crack pipe.
I wondered who it may have been bequeathed to. It found a good home.
Don't forget, "Crack is whack."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ytJpZguSy2U
My parents are venturing forth from my ancestral homeland of Chesterland for their semiannual Michigan visit. The only thing my dad had to say was: "I will require a martini as soon as we arrive."
I made sure to add "gin" to my grocery list.
Now I just have to figure out how to keep them entertained until Monday morning...
Keep 'em sauced all weekend, and have some Alka-Seltzer ready for them Monday for the inevitable hangover. Good luck ...
I have a 3.5-hour window between getting home from work and their arrival around 8:30. In that time I must: grocery shop, vacuum downstairs, wash the kitchen floor, dust the furniture, and...and...I know I'll forget something. If I get them tipsy as soon as they arrive maybe my mom won't notice I didn't dust the tops of the picture frames hanging in the stairwell.
You think I'm kidding about the dusty frames...but I am not. I've heard "I didn't raise you to live like this" from my mom in the past.
Hence why I spent part of Tuesday evening scrubbing my shower tile grout with a toothbrush.
I've been reading for a while and, while my comprehension is suspect, I never remember a mention of Papou.
Who did I miss?
Perhaps you missed that I married a Greek woman in the form of Mrs. Viper. "Papou" is Greek for "grandfather."
My condolences. At least he got to attend your wedding (IIRC).
Thank you. And yes, you are correct. We have a wonderful picture of him dancing with Mrs. Viper.
Sorry for your loss.
And Sun Runner, I agree with Viper -- keep them so sauced they won't notice dust! OR you could try "well, this is MY house, so we follow MY rules." I'm sure they used some form of that line on you when it was "their" house and "their" rules. ;) But -- liquor is probably safer.
I'm so sorry for your loss.
And, you were where I got the sock idea. Totally worked for me.
Unlike Nitmos I will have some class and not make a joke. Seriously though, sorry for your loss. It is never easy.
Although I admit to laughing aloud at Sunrunner's comments.
Saliete!
My condolences.
I well remember the wedding story but my comprehension of Greek? Not so much.
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