Veni, Vidi, Ventus --
The randomly chaotic and crafty scribblings of a deranged, wannabe artist allowed too many colours in her Crayon box.

Surgeon General's Warning: Some content of "From Pooka's Crayon" may not be suitable for: work, blue-haired little old ladies, the politically-correct, rabid moonbats, uptight mothers, priests, chronic idiots, insurance claims agents, Democrats, children, small furry quadropeds from Alpha Centauri, or your sanity.

Thursday, June 21, 2001

Katie KaBoom

There is a tantrum of Biblical Proportions going on in the Thing's bedroom.

I've not heard NO this much since either of them first learned the word as a baby.

Dogs miles away are cowering and howling in pain.

Linda Blair just called with the number for her exorcist.

Glass is shattering. My ears are bleeding.

It's gone from mere tantrum to Academy Award performance.

And now they're both crying. And screaming. And howling.

Warning, Houston. Situation approaching Critical Mass. Evacuate, evacuate. Proceed to the nearest exits by any means necessary. Run for your lives.

If you think I'm going to wade into the middle of it, you're crazy.

Looking for a bomb shelter, humming "Katie KaBOOM" .....

.... and this one isn't even a teenager yet.
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