Boring days = bad blogging

It's a horrible fact. But it is indeed a fact. Which means that it's basically true. No, it's actually one hundred percent totally true. Not just basically true. But I digress.

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The horrible part of it is that my husband totally HATES it (and he's not just pretending. He really does HATE it!) and I... well, I think it's funny that he hates it. Any guesses what it is?

He's threatened to hold me down and forcibly remove it. And by forcibly I meant with forceps. (It's not a coincidence that "forcibly" sounds like "forceps" you know.) Which of course just makes me want to keep it even more. This thing that annoys him so much. And it's really only because I find it so funny, that I want to keep it!

OK, so you want to know what it is? It's my wiry toe hairs. Seriously. I know, I know, it's hard to believe that such a sophisticated young lady could have such wiry toe hairs! (snigger snigger!) But alas, tis true. Here is the alarming evidence of my neanderthal origins:-

Um, no, I don't believe in evolution. Promise. Except maybe in the possibility that just maybe, this hairbilly hillbilly thing is starting to catch up with me, after all. Now, if only I can find a way to keep my toe-hairs from getting all tangled up in my sandals. Perhaps a side-parting will do for today? Hmmm... nah. Too many hair-brained schemes going on in this sicko's haid to be taken seriously. Seems I might be a hair's breadth away from walking around in close-toed shoes for the rest of my days. Which would indeed be hair-razing. But it would keep my hubby's disdain for my hairrible horrible toes in check. Especially seeing as they are growing on me...

As for the blog's title... well, never was there a truer saying than that. For today.