Warning: Creating default object from empty value in /home/dooce/public_html/wp-content/plugins/hybrid-hook/hybrid-hook.php on line 121
June | 2005 | dooce® | Page 3 dooce® » I'm Heather B. Armstrong. This is my website. » 2005 » June

Archives by date

You are browsing the site archives by date.

What’s in here, Mama?

Shortly afterward Odessa took Leta out with a swift kick to the gut

If this isn’t reclaiming the web for personal expression then I DON’T KNOW WHAT IS

We’re leaving for Vancouver in a couple hours and just found out that we’re going to have access to premium broadband Internet (as opposed to generic broadband). You know what this means, don’t you? Real-time pictures of us drunkenly jumping up and down on the beds in the hotel room in our underwear while listening [...]

Leta and Grandpa

Looks as if she’s got all the hair for all the Grandpas in the world as well.

When my Dad reads this his head is going to be full of BLEEEEEPs

My father left this morning after being in town for over five days. Unlike my mother’s side of the family my father does not abide the talk of bodily functions and will get up and walk away from you if you so much as insinuate that humans take shits. Luckily for him he got to [...]

Odessa

One of my former bosses from LA (not THAT boss) is in town, and this is his nine-month-old baby girl. When he told me his wife was pregnant I sent him an email telling him that, by God, let’s all pray she gets her mother’s looks. Not unlike Leta, Odessa looks EXACTLY like her father [...]

Chimmy Chimmy BREAK DOWN!

My babysitter graduated high school a couple weeks ago and afterward her mother threw her a small dinner party with friends and family. We would have been there but we were on our way to South Carolina at the time, so I gave her a present beforehand with a little requisite advice for someone about [...]

I’m posting this cute picture of her now because she won’t stop screaming and this will prevent me from jumping off a bridge or

Scottish and sunburned

While on vacation in South Carolina we took a leisurely (HA! Jon has scars from all my nagging TO GET A MOVE ON) trip to Fripp Island, a private beach where rich white people roam around in golf carts. We had packed swimsuits and thought that we could pick up sunscreen on the 20 mile [...]

If I stare at you long enough will you give me a piece of that pizza?