temperamental express

It's hard to start a blog. However, rediculously wealthy housewives such as myself have too much time on their hands and thus the blog is created. But of course I have a ghost-typer. During the time that I would have writing this, I took Simon to the park in my cadillac to teach him the lesson called "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all." He learned this lesson very quickly and said nothing the entire trip. I decided to try to teach him this lesson because I do not understand it's limitations. I figured when he gets older he can reteach me. Can I only not speak the opposite of nice things? I'd never talk, and no one could possibly benefit from that nonsense.

Bootsy the maid took down the Christmas tree tonight. He prefers to be referred to as my handyperson. He has no problem with lead exposures, which is a plus (as an aside he was able to hang thirty pounds of Christmas lights around the mansion with only a drop of two IQ points). I purchased a Christmas tree removal bag at the store for this occasion. The Christmas tree removal bag did not remove the tree at all and Bootsy had to work very hard. Bootsy now has pine holes all over his handyman, I mean handyperson, hands. I wonder if he's going to charge me extra for that- it's damaging to his title. I allowed him to turn in early tonight to his quarters in the east wing. I'd like him to build me two more closets on the lower level tomorrow for my gi's and skiing attire, respectively. He'll need his rest.