That's right. I'm still in Noggin hell. Mr. Ashley thinks cleaning the house would do more good than wanted posters, but what does he know? The big kid saw me making the wanted poster and screamed, "YOU FOUND IT, YOU FOUND IT. THE WEMOTE ATROLL!" But I have not found it. I don't even have any good leads.
Don't worry, I have more interesting things to discuss today than my lost remote control. I see shopping in our very near future, hopefully Mr. Ashley will take the big kid to speech soon and I'll be free to laze around guilt free. Speaking of the big kid, he's sitting right up on me, naked as a jaybird and doing some sort of penis puppetry. I'm sick of the constant nudity and all of the penises around here, really I am. Put on some freaking clothes kid, I don't want your poop-residue covered ass on my couches.
I'll be back soon, hopefully with a happy reunion story. What's that saint of lost things? I'm no Catholic but maybe he could help a sister out here.
It's Saint Anthony.
The saying goes:
St. Anthony, St. Anthony, Please come around. Something's been lost and can Not be Found!
What I want to know is how does the remote disappear if I haven't even left the coach? My suspicions about your missing remote is a little person put it in the toy box...or the recycling bin? Don't bother to look under the couch it will only destroy whatever remaining dignity is holding on to your fragile self image.
Your remote will be in my prayers.
All hail tivo.
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