MOVED!

The posts from this blog have melded with MOUNTAINPULSE . Fluxgraphia will exist no more.





~sniff~

Now, what kind of fuckery is THIS?

Tricky bitches... Look at this bogus response to my letter of love!!!

Dear Ms Oppings,

Thank you for your recent correspondence with positive comments about your local Safeway store.

We have noted your kind words regarding the preparation and the quality of the Safeway Enriched Hot Dog Buns that you purchased last summer. We are confident that we will be able to continue to deliver the high standards you have come to expect as a valued customer. We request that you provide us with the location of the store, so that we can forward your comments to our Store Manager and the associates. We enjoy knowing our efforts to make shopping pleasant and convenient are appreciated by our customers.

If you would like to discuss this further, please reply to this email or call our toll free number at 1-877-723-3929 and reference contact I.D. 13002658. One of our associates will be happy to assist you.

Thank you again for your compliment. We appreciate your business and look forward to seeing you soon. Thank you for shopping at Safeway.


Sincerely,

Alicia Sanders
Customer Service Center

Mr. Sanders,
You are a disingenuous woman and you are to be regarded with suspicion! Sir, you obviously did NOT read my e-mail! Do you just have it scanned by a computer to pick up "positive" words and "negative" words?!?!? How about this: Lame! Revolting! I puked a little in my mouth! For Shame on Safeway Buns! Heinous! Mank-jank-skank-rank-gank! Revolting! Putrid! You're killin us all! Ma'am, those buns..... that's just not right.
Please, try AGAIN, Miss Saunders:

(again, with the original letter.)

Love letter to Safeway Inc.

Dear Friends at Safeway Inc.,

I just wanted to take some time out of my day to send a letter of commendation to you and your masterful bakers for a truly amazing product! Let me tell you about our Father’s Day surprise…
On Sunday, my husband and I and our two daughters were in our garage gathering up camping equipment and making a list of food needed for our fishing trip next weekend. We were rummaging through boxes to find our gear when my oldest daughter pulled forth from the bowels of the garage a bag of Safeway Enriched Hot Dog Buns.
“Someone already bought the buns!” she stated.
“Did you buy those?” I asked my husband.
“I didn’t buy ‘em.” He replied
“We’ll, where did they come from?”
We stood, wondering. The silence was broken when my daughter exclaimed, “These are from last summer!!! I remember when we bought them!”
Dumbfounded, I grabbed the bag and pulled out a bun. What should have been rock hard, fuzzed with green and stinking was still soft and fresh!!! Those buns were as well preserved as Sophia Loren! You should have seen the amazement on everyone’s faces! To think! After one year of sitting at the bottom of a box in our damp garage, those buns were still moist and unsullied! My husband, a former baker and pastry chef, was humbled. His own artisan bread was hard and funky after only a couple days. One just has to wonder about what those magical and mysterious “other wholesome ingredients” must be…

What an unexpected discovery! One less thing to buy at the store, and now, dinner was decided! After cheering and high fives all around we had a big family hug and raced upstairs to find some hotdogs. The bakers you employ are to be praised. May they continue to work their magic in bakeries across America, and beyond! ! “Ingredients for life”, indeed!
Thank you, Safeway Bakers, for making our Father’s Day extra special.

Yours Truly,

Diedre Oppings

Really? Hmmmm.... I'll have to go back and check but I would have thought I'd get an "R". Maybe I'm not so potty mouthed as I thought. Fuck...

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

...Fuck you, you fucking fucker!

There we go!

oooooooo! Bad bastard cats!

Bad, BAD wayward shit cats ! These two



are about to have their heads handed to them. Look at them! They know what they did...
I was cleaning up LO’s room and discovered that someone had decided to turn her basket of play silks into a litter box. Nasty little poos and sprinklin’s of pee all over LO’s beloved silkies. FANTASTIC, guys!

So I throw them into a basin and drown them(No, not the cats, the silks) in anti-cat pee juice and of course the colors start to bleed immediately even though I’ve washed them a million times. I quickly separate them out from each other. But not before they stained the washing machine though!!!
What by the jeezus is IN those silks?!?!?! LO and I finished washing each separate one in the basin outside- OH YEAH!!!! IT’S 52 degrees and SUNNY out TODAY!!!!! SPRING DONE SPRUNG!!!!- and hung them on the line to dry. Some are fine and some are now fuckin’ tie-dyed.

*sigh*

Well it’s my own damn fault. My least favorite chore? CAT CRAPPER. I thought, ”Oh, they’ll be fine until I can get a new box of litter in the morning. It's not so bad in there.” Uh-duh. Poor innocent silkies. Besides sticks and rocks, play silks are the BEST child’s toy. Versatile, portable, totally open ended, comforting... play silks. Which leads to my reparation for my cat box irresponsibility. I shall share the love and pass on a great web site-in case anyone cares- that sells raw white silkies on the SUPER CHEAP! DHARMA TRADING. I think you can get a silk for like $3 bucks. Just like Sarah’s silks. And it’s so fun to dye them with the kiddos.

May I also recommend NATURE’S MIRACLE ORANGE-OXY POWER JUST FOR CAT’S STAIN & STANK REMOVER. ;)
Cuz now our silks are fresh as a day in May....

Our Astoundingly Adventurous Amorous African Clawed Run Away Attack Frog: PART 1

At the end of last summer I started a “life cycle” study of the frog with LO. We purchased a Grow-a-Frog kit from Classic Toys, filled out the postcard and sent for our mail order tadpole. Simple enough! Our lil guy arrived after a week or two and we set him up in his new digs. A sweet pad with tropical decor: blue sand, a white shell, tiny green DECOplant and food. LO named him Goo. We watched him grow day by day, swimming about “breathing in” his special tadpole food, his lil front nubs beginning to resemble future legs-such a cute bitty bugger!

Then he goes tits up.

Swell.

My Little One’s first taste of death. We buried him under a spruce by the house. LO colored his tombstone rock and placed it above his grave. I endured the QUESTION”Mama, why did Goo die?” asked ad nauseum. Then like an optimistic shmuck I order in his “free replacement”. I wring my hands as a week goes by and weather is dipping well below freezing. Last time, the schluffers at the Post Office blew off notifying us that we needed to pick up our live animal from their toasty warm building. The mail carrier is going to deliver the tadpole to his death in an arctic tomb -LO will discover a tadpolsickle in the mailbox. Sure enough I retrieve a cold but as yet undead tadpole and whisk it home to begin the acclimatization process. “What should we name him, LO? " LO searched her immediate surroundings for inspiration and I saw her eyes land on her basket of rocks.

I thought,”Here comes the height of creativity, the oeuvre-”

“Rock Rock!” she said, beaming and much to DEA’s chagrin.

OK!

Rock Rock was cool morphin' tadpole! He was larger and heartier and feistier than Goo. His front legs were already developing and soon after his tail began to shrink as his body absorbed it. In one night his small fishlike head totally morphed into a frog’s with big whiskers on the side! It was SO exciting! We took pictures of the big changes and followed the froglet instructions to a T. He was growing fast and I decided it was time for Rock Rock to be movin’ on up and ordered him the DEEEEE-lux apartment from Grow-a-Frog. The TubeTown condo arrives and what’s THIS stuffed inside the tank?!?! A big…naked...frog(?) with pink eyes peepin at us through a bag of freezing water!

“I didn’t order this!”

LO says,"where’s his color?".

“He’s an Albino!", sez Huz.

"I didn’t order this-why’d they send it?” Do ya smell the foreshadowing yet?

We set up the deluxe crib for the naked-it was almost obscene!- white frog, "Scoot". DEA got to name this one. Rock Rock remained in the original tank. He would need to finish baking and grow some before Scoot would recognize him as Not Food.

More picture taking. More oooing and ahhhing at Rock Rock’s changes.

It was a miraculous little lesson in the intricacies of life.

Some other time: PART 2 of Our AAAACRAA Frog