Stop the Insanity!

No, I'm not channeling Susan Powter, I'm talking about this. It's a free service that you can use to help stop/reduce the number of catalogs in your mailbox. I just told Fidel about this and I know I'll regret sharing the information with him. I LOVE catalogs. They are like gifts in the mailbox. My girls even love catalogs. I swear if I start getting no catalogs I'm going to kick his ass.

In other news, I took the girls to CFA yesterday and they had a blast. Tootie told me that it was the best day of her life, but then she said that again this morning after I cooked her a frozen biscuit. She's a little too excitable. I sat right outside the glassed-in play area and the girls played while I nibbled on a fruit cup and read a couple of catalogs. It was wonderful because the restaurant was really uncrowded. Then 2 dingbat teenagers came in with their loud talking, calling each other whores, you get the picture. They thought they were cute. The funniest part is when one of them called Adam from her cell and then by listening in to their conversation, it was obvious that Adam wasn't wanting to hang out with them because he was waffling on the details of his plans. It was pretty funny. I wanted to say, Jordan, if you weren't so loud and stupid you might have a better chance of hanging out with this Adam, but you know you can't tell teenagers anything. There were about 6 old ladies giving Jordan and her friend the stink eye because of the whole "whore" screaming thing so they left after Adam shot them down. I missed them the minute they left because instead of listening to their babbling I had to hear the Whistler. The Whistler was a man, in his 50's, and every time he said a word beginning with the letter "S" he whistled. Annoying as hell, I tell you. It was bearable until he got into a discussion on his phone with someone and he was trying to give them a phone number. Unfortunately one of the area codes in our area is 770, so I got to hear him repeat that phone number about 50 f-ing times because the person he was speaking to is apparently deaf as a stone. I wanted to tell him, Whistler, hiss through your teeth to make the letter S so that you can stop the f-ing whistling. I hate the whistling because one of my grandfather's cousin, Owens, whistles as he talks and it's the most annoying sound. Nails on a chalkboard.