A Labor Day Hodgepodge

Well, the SJG has so much to report on this disgustingly muggy Labor Day, 2017, the question that plagues me is this: where to begin? Where? Where? Should I tell you that Duchess Katie is preggers again, and she's asked me to dance the hora three times around a chicken bone to ward off morning sickness? I could tell you that, sure. Or, should I reveal the question currently making the rounds of my humble Sherman Oaks neighborhood, every time I step outside: "What's that hellacious smell?" Oh, it's just me, bathed in bug repellant, Vitamin E, and exotic healing ointments! Gee, I'm going to draw a lot of attention today at the block party. Sorry, guys, but this is what it takes to get over The Siege of Fleas. Yes, as I hinted on Sunday, the fleas are refusing to flee, those tiny bloodsucking bastards. After leaving a nasty, rant-filled message for the Flea Mavens, who did bupkis in terms of eradication, I called up the lovely people at Terminators, who promise to kill, destroy, maim and annihilate any insect that gets within an inch of my kvetchy personage. All I can say to that is: Bring It. The more holistic-ish gentle approach, a little powder here, a little spray here, the healthy yet expensive choice, did diddly. So we're going in another direction, as they say in Hollywood. God willing, this will work, because dwelling here at the Institute for the Very, Very Itchy isn't good for my general state of mind. Well, that about covers the over-sharing on this disgustingly muggy Labor Day, 2017. May I wish you and yours a fabulous day of eating anything anyone puts in front of you. You've worked hard all year. You deserve the extra calories. Go forth and binge! You're welcome. xo