Today I received a very Crabtown sort of present.
You may recall I taught grammar to high school students here, and even though I called my class Dude, Where's My Comma?, Dead Poets' Society-style leaping onto desks did not occur. Nobody even so much as cracked a smile when I drew my Comma Chameleon on the board.
But. The town appreciates me. I know this to be true for I received a special goodie bag for teachers on this very day. In this town, that schwag means a canvas shopping bag (which I already have 3 of) containing the following:
2 x water bottles for the active teacher-on-the-go (i.e., not me)
1 x Power Bar for the active teacher-on-the-go (i.e., not me)
1 x high-altitude SP lip balm. Now that I like.
1 x baseball cap with the words "The Cougar Fund" on it
1 x "summer journal" with a wildlife image on it. I hate journals. Don't all writers hate journals? Don't all PEOPLE hate journals?
1 x $1 off bagel at the bagel place. (God, bagelpeeps, don't give it all away...you might go bankrupt!)
1 x ...and this is IT, people...sunglass Croakies
Now if you don't know what Croakies are, you, my friend, are lucky. They are these tubular foam thingimajigs that I associate ENTIRELY with Crabtown's sportif look. You tube the ends into your sunglasses and hey, presto! Glasses don't get lost.
Never mind that they are unspeakably dorky. And sometimes come with Grateful Dead-like hippie patterns on them. Not. Chic.
And so, dear readers, I offer them to you. Why, you ask, would YOU want these? Because...these particular Croakies give away the LOCATION of Crabtown upon them. This is tantalizing information, no?
Put your name in the hat. Write a comment and then I will let Crabtot draw the winning name tomorrow night. The first name up gets the Croakies and the privilege of knowing where resides the Crabmommy.
The second person gets the journal. Or, wait, maybe the first person should also get the journal, to compensate for the Croakies. Or maybe the Croakies compensate for the journal. Oh, heck, beat me to a pulp -- you can have the cougar hat too.
Because teaching is important! Teachers, you're awesome! Have some lip balm! Scribble in your journal! YOU. SERIOUSLY. BLOODY. ROCK.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
FREE STUFF! (Really, This Time)
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18 comments:
YOU.SERIOUSLY.MAKE.ME.LAUGH. But don't worry about putting my name in the hat cause I'm all the way down in Australia and the postage would probably be phenomenal.
Same here. I am in dorkest Africa.
This is hilarious stuff, and I'm not even a mommy - and will never be. LOL
I take them! Once May is over I'm probably going to need some stuff, because I won't have any left. I'll have given it all away.
I just wanted to let you know that I tagged you on my blog for 8 random facts/habits about you...:)
I don't really want the croakies but ...is it Jackson's Hole? Well, drop my name in the hat because I've been curious.
You brighten so many of my dull, office-bound days. And I love your take on parenting; couldn't say it better m'self!
My people,
he response to the Croakies has been overwhelming. I am still letting the ballots flood in...drawing to commence after daycare tonight.
Doc'sgirl, thanks! I am not sure I know how to respond to your questions (i.e., where they are) but the Crabmommy is always happy to give interviews.
Courtzilla, welcome. And to you skape, rk, picknwildflowers. Pickn, ahem, not giving it away...until I give away them Croakies! Gots to stay undercover here in C-town.
Am I too late? Am I too far?
Am I? Am I?
A
Claire wants your Croakies.
Margot wants your journal.
They didn't like "Dude, Where's my comma?" ?!!! Goddamn kids nowadays. I swear.
Oh captain, my captain.
I am desperate to at least see the Cougar Fund hat. I will gladly stop by the crabshack and snap a photo so you can post it.
Have we not discussed the term "Cougar?"
It's a mountain town thing...
Hey Crabmommy, don't be so sure about them croakies, y'know. Lo the day may come when you're engaged in some manner of Crabville-ish activity—something appropriately life threatening/exhilerating (?) like dangling by your fingernails from a cliff, leaping from a bridge with bungees around your ankles, or screaming your lungs out as you plunge through crashing whitewater on a wild river—and that still, small voice in the back of your mind will be whispering 'This will all be fine if only, if ONLY, my sunglasses don't fly off!' And THEN you'll be mighty thankful, believe you me, that you have those Crabtown croakies cinching your specs safe and close to your face. But the journal does suck, though.
I am surprised that your "goodie" bag didnt contain a bottle of Bullfrog sun screen. Maybe thats a Colorado thing? I am in if you havent chosen a winner!
Comma Chameleon is too f-ing funny. Thanks for the good laugh.
Back on the Cougar fund thing - just heard from the mom of my better (smarter, funnier, more organized, less prone to tangents, etc.) that in Texas the term is "Barracuda"
Surely, daycare is over by now? Don't tell me you leave poor Crabtot there until 10pm! Has the Slap 'em to sleep method failed you?
I am starting to get worried, maybe you've been attacked by a drug crazed cowboy weilding a fork (cheap ikea fork ... you'll be fine). OK, I am not worried anymore.
I can't stand the suspense ... who is going to get the croakies?
Oh, and I hate to say this, but I will any way, "TOLD. YOU. SO. FREE. STUFF. ROCKS."
I’m not posting a comment for the free stuff, I wanna know what the comment you deleted said…was it mean? Do we need to get the torches, and a shovel? Or wait, that’s X-files not Dead Poets.
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