American Horror Story
So the best friend’s daughters were over and we watched American Horror Story season three. We’ve been planning it for awhile now but various things kept coming up. Anyway, we’re ready for episode seven when we had to quit. Next weekend or the week after I hope to finish it. I expected not to like it as much as season 1 and 2 because it’s witches and primarily female (and several of the reoccurring female actresses get on my nerves) but in true AHS fashion the story has me gripped. I wish Evan Peters was in it more though.
It’s still springy out. I need to go take photos of flowers. Meanwhile, the brother brought these home.
They smell pretty. Since I’ve done nothing interesting, here are two cat photos.
Oh, there was one interesting thing. Though maybe I’m just paranoid after watching AHS. Hubby and I took a quick tour around town that included the cemetery. There’s an older section in the back (this is the area that has the mysterious mist when the brother and I first went through), as we turned the corner into the older part, I suddenly got sick at my stomach, like ready to throw up sick. As I was trying to decide whether to comment on it, hubby says “wow, I suddenly don’t feel good. Like really not good.”
We left, quickly. Now that we’re home we both feel better. Lesson learned, I am not going there at dusk anymore.
Also there is a funny one. So when we bought the house we put hubby and the brother’s names on it, well everyone assumed they were a gay couple and though we’ve been here for months we haven’t really gotten into the community yet. Anyway, so the brother and hubby took the littlest daughter down to the park while we were watching AHS and the brother looks at hubby and says “great. Now everyone thinks the gay couple adopted a daughter.”
Maybe you had to be there.
Okay, battery low and I’m out of stuff anyway, so have a good one.
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