So, here it is. Yes, I know....it's beautiful, isn't it? And yes, she's in my bed. And yes, I sleep with her. Sorry super-g, you'd do the same if you had her. And yes, those are my wrinkled maroon sheets....shoulda taken the picture elsewhere, but I was too excited. sigh.
samedi, septembre 30, 2006
jeudi, septembre 21, 2006
QOTD
It's before 8AM and I just heard my quote of the day:
"I dunno what it is, but the internet says these are probably chicken pox...."
Ummm, shouldn't you get that checked out? The double edged sword of google images....
mercredi, septembre 20, 2006
Ghostface Komput-r
Sweet! I just got word that my computer is on it's way! Yahoo! And even better, it's a member of the Wu!!!
Yep, it's on it's way from Suzhou China, the heart of the Wu culture. ODB! RZA! GZA! Protect ya neck, yo.
lundi, septembre 18, 2006
jeudi, septembre 14, 2006
Cautionary
Alright. This is a warning. Clear as day. Here it is: Please never use the phrase "That's Stinkin' Thinkin!" with me. Ever. Unless you want to die a horrible and painful death.
End Transmission
mercredi, septembre 13, 2006
Salve
Alright. I made the plunge. I bought a new computer. After several weeks of what seems to be an improvement in my schizophrenic computer's behavior, I decided to jump right in and do it. i mean, really, what's money for, if not to buy useless consumer goods for the masses? I stand behind my decision. I am waiting for my beautiful macbook. I cannot wait. I'm sure I will post computer pr0n as soon as I get it....in a week to ten days. No, no, it was a completely uninfluenced decision. I am totally not using this incorrectly to make myself feel better about my family's current unraveling. TOTALLY not.
brobdingnagian*
Shhh. I have to be quiet, I think it can hear me. It snuck up on me in the night a few days ago and I haven't been able to shake it. What worries me now is that I think it may be developing its own climate system. Oh, and I met some German hikers on the side of it, they seemed nice but kept asking for directions to the disco.
It's huge. It blots out the sun. I keep getting startled by things coming in from the right of my vision. They ask me "what's wrong?", and I say "Oh nothing!". Don't they see it? Don't they see the enormous pimple that has popped up next to my right temple? Oh, I get it, they're ignoring it...but I can see the fear and disgust in their eyes. I hate them for their pity. They will talk on their cellphones, recounting to their friends the tale of the "poor disfigured cretin begging for peanut shells on the corner"
Geez, I really like peanut shells, alright? Sue me.
sorry, guess who needs sleep?
(*Note: The title comes from Gulliver's travels, it was the land of giants, the opposite of liliputian)
mardi, septembre 12, 2006
The Sixth Kid in the Hall
In a stunning turn of events, Saddam Hussein lets it slip out that he was the sixth "Kids in the Hall" character by proclaiming 'We will crush your heads' In related news, Hussein also declared that Scott Thompson's monologues were way too long.
samedi, septembre 09, 2006
Love dojo
I am ridiculously tired today. I should have taken a nap. It's a chilly 60 degrees here, it feels like september....oh, right, it is. I haven't had anything too exciting to write about, sadly.
Some people are over watching football right now. At halftime, a friend called and she was complaining about a dude that just happened to be at our house right at that moment watching the game. It was a really fun exercise to keep things vague enough for both of them to not figure it out. But they're both too self absorbed to figure out anyway. I live a sad, petty life. Oh well, it keeps things interesting.
side note: new cards for a friends Birthday party:
"You need a mint" "You're shameful" "Jameson's Time" "Time to go (you)" "Have some self respect" "what happens in my pants, stays in my pants" "Quit staring at my honky tonk" "Your friends all agree that you need to wax" "I'm secretly scanning the room for someone else to talk to" "Those are Lust Blisters" "Kiss me, I'm drunk (and lack self respect)" Can you think of others?
Some people are over watching football right now. At halftime, a friend called and she was complaining about a dude that just happened to be at our house right at that moment watching the game. It was a really fun exercise to keep things vague enough for both of them to not figure it out. But they're both too self absorbed to figure out anyway. I live a sad, petty life. Oh well, it keeps things interesting.
side note: new cards for a friends Birthday party:
"You need a mint" "You're shameful" "Jameson's Time" "Time to go (you)" "Have some self respect" "what happens in my pants, stays in my pants" "Quit staring at my honky tonk" "Your friends all agree that you need to wax" "I'm secretly scanning the room for someone else to talk to" "Those are Lust Blisters" "Kiss me, I'm drunk (and lack self respect)" Can you think of others?
lundi, septembre 04, 2006
Creepiest baby gift ever
Looking for a cool baby gift, I ran across this:
creepy pillow
I'm totally going to get this for some friends....and never get talked to again.
creepy pillow
I'm totally going to get this for some friends....and never get talked to again.
Bridesmaidz
So, I crashed a wedding last night. No, no, I'm not proud of that fact; I was rather uncomfortable doing it. However, when one of my roommates and another friend called me late last night, stinking drunk, asking me to come to a wedding they were attending, who am I to refuse? I mean, it's one of the laws of nature.....or thermodynamics....I can't remember which.
And being the only...um....international attendee [read: darky]....in the entire crowd of 200+, I stuck out like a sore, embarrassed, akward thumb. The bride's father kept eyeing me, the groomsmen wondering who the hell I was, the event staff waiting for me to walk away with some chairs or something. Yikes. This was a bad idea.
But, regardless, I found my friends and started talking to them. Things were slightly less uncomfortable once it was established that I actually knew somebody at the wedding. Pshew.
But then it got worse.....fast.
Here are the highlights, in bullet form for your reading ease and enjoyment:
-P.Y.T. by M. Jackson played, dancefloor clears (I know! it was ridiculous! those philistines!)
-Immediately get spotted by inebriated bridesmaid....I knew I shouldn't have worn purple
-Aforementioned bridesmaid persists in "dancing" with me....in actuallity, she was rubbing on my leg while I kept her from face planting into the dancefloor
-Idiot DJ then plays "Every Rose Has its Thorn"; I am immediately surprised at how strong the grip of a 110lb woman can be as I try to exit the dancefloor
-"Slow dancing" turns into "Slow wrestling" as she is too drunk to dance....discomfort level rising
-She slurs "Ohmygod, I'm soooo shorry, I have a berfriend" I assume this meant boyfriend...I am relieved. Yet, I am still unable to extricate myself.
-She immediately says "Oh what the hell, let's just have fun tonight!"....discomfort level rapidly rising at the same rate as the groping
-I look to roommate for help. He is useless.
-She continues to talk about something or other; i'm trying to figure out if there is perhaps a hint of vomit in her heavily alcohol scented breath?
-She then tries to find something in my pocket...does she need to borrow my cell? Let's hope so...Discomfort level at an all time high
-I declare that I'm leaving the wedding and spend the rest of the evening waiting for my friends with my tail between my legs just outside the doors.
FUN! I gotta remember that weddings are evil places that should be avoided like the plague. It serves me right for crashing the wedding. Lesson learned, Aesop.
And being the only...um....international attendee [read: darky]....in the entire crowd of 200+, I stuck out like a sore, embarrassed, akward thumb. The bride's father kept eyeing me, the groomsmen wondering who the hell I was, the event staff waiting for me to walk away with some chairs or something. Yikes. This was a bad idea.
But, regardless, I found my friends and started talking to them. Things were slightly less uncomfortable once it was established that I actually knew somebody at the wedding. Pshew.
But then it got worse.....fast.
Here are the highlights, in bullet form for your reading ease and enjoyment:
-P.Y.T. by M. Jackson played, dancefloor clears (I know! it was ridiculous! those philistines!)
-Immediately get spotted by inebriated bridesmaid....I knew I shouldn't have worn purple
-Aforementioned bridesmaid persists in "dancing" with me....in actuallity, she was rubbing on my leg while I kept her from face planting into the dancefloor
-Idiot DJ then plays "Every Rose Has its Thorn"; I am immediately surprised at how strong the grip of a 110lb woman can be as I try to exit the dancefloor
-"Slow dancing" turns into "Slow wrestling" as she is too drunk to dance....discomfort level rising
-She slurs "Ohmygod, I'm soooo shorry, I have a berfriend" I assume this meant boyfriend...I am relieved. Yet, I am still unable to extricate myself.
-She immediately says "Oh what the hell, let's just have fun tonight!"....discomfort level rapidly rising at the same rate as the groping
-I look to roommate for help. He is useless.
-She continues to talk about something or other; i'm trying to figure out if there is perhaps a hint of vomit in her heavily alcohol scented breath?
-She then tries to find something in my pocket...does she need to borrow my cell? Let's hope so...Discomfort level at an all time high
-I declare that I'm leaving the wedding and spend the rest of the evening waiting for my friends with my tail between my legs just outside the doors.
FUN! I gotta remember that weddings are evil places that should be avoided like the plague. It serves me right for crashing the wedding. Lesson learned, Aesop.
dimanche, septembre 03, 2006
Two more things
Jeezus....two posts in the same day! I'm already getting sick of myself.
But two questions:
1) With the recent slow but sure demise of my computer....should I switch back to Mac?
2) What are your favorite movies? I can't think of a single one to recommend to super-gee.
I need some gin. Later.
But two questions:
1) With the recent slow but sure demise of my computer....should I switch back to Mac?
2) What are your favorite movies? I can't think of a single one to recommend to super-gee.
I need some gin. Later.
Hell smells like Grandma
An open letter to the creepy hole in my closet,
Hey creepy hole in my closet! What's up? Do you mind if I just call you "Creepy" rather than "Mr. Hole in my closet"? Sweet, thanks. So...um....what's up with you? I know that's kind of a weird question....but seriously, what's the point of your existence, dawg? Were you some sort of vent in a previous life? Were you a laundry chute? Were you one of those cool dumbwaiters like on "Webster"?
Yeah, I hope so.
However....from the smell that seems to emanate from your...um....face (?)....it seems to indicate that you are a boarded up...ummm....PORTAL TO THE UNHALLOWED ABYSS OF THE DAMNED!!! And, dude, there is a dire need of some Plug-ins all up in that piece, yo!
Look, I don't know how you came uncovered....either 1) by the recitation of some ancient Egyptian text of the Undead by unwitting and poorly-chaperoned high school kids or 2) failure of the shitty packing tape used to seal the piece of drywall on. I'm with the latter, but there is an eerie fog and green glow in my bedroom....whatever.
What I DO care about is that you stop stinkin up my shit. My clothes smell like I've been sleeping in a cemetery [I'm not saying I haven't...it's just that my febreze has been rendered useless]. I need you to stop, or I'll do something drastic. Unless, of course, you actually ARE the portal to Hell. In that case, all hail our evil overlords. Sorry about all that dirty laundry in front of your portal.
Hey creepy hole in my closet! What's up? Do you mind if I just call you "Creepy" rather than "Mr. Hole in my closet"? Sweet, thanks. So...um....what's up with you? I know that's kind of a weird question....but seriously, what's the point of your existence, dawg? Were you some sort of vent in a previous life? Were you a laundry chute? Were you one of those cool dumbwaiters like on "Webster"?
Yeah, I hope so.
However....from the smell that seems to emanate from your...um....face (?)....it seems to indicate that you are a boarded up...ummm....PORTAL TO THE UNHALLOWED ABYSS OF THE DAMNED!!! And, dude, there is a dire need of some Plug-ins all up in that piece, yo!
Look, I don't know how you came uncovered....either 1) by the recitation of some ancient Egyptian text of the Undead by unwitting and poorly-chaperoned high school kids or 2) failure of the shitty packing tape used to seal the piece of drywall on. I'm with the latter, but there is an eerie fog and green glow in my bedroom....whatever.
What I DO care about is that you stop stinkin up my shit. My clothes smell like I've been sleeping in a cemetery [I'm not saying I haven't...it's just that my febreze has been rendered useless]. I need you to stop, or I'll do something drastic. Unless, of course, you actually ARE the portal to Hell. In that case, all hail our evil overlords. Sorry about all that dirty laundry in front of your portal.
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