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The N: why do we do stpid memes
theyr the crappy chainletters of today
only less guilt from the one Australian chick you know
The G: I know I know
The N: who sends you one every year
The G: haha
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It's okay, Catherine, look: I still do it! meme! meme! Bahh, bahh!
I've been in a meeting all day. I'm crotchety.
Also, I don't like internet rules, so here is more than five.
Also, I am boring as hell.
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I know all the words to "All I Wanna Do Is Make Love to You" by Heart, and somewhere is an answering machine tape that belongs to a gay German opera major named Dan. On it: me scream-singing "All I Wanna Do is Make Love to You." Other musical admissions/questionings/embarrassments: why don't karaoke machines have White Zombie? I love "More Human Than Human."
In 1994, S. and I stole massive amounts of loose change from the console of Pete N's unlocked VW bug when it was parked out behind the gym during track practice. We took his money and went to 7 Eleven and bought Fun Dip.
I, too, played french horn in junior high. The tune "Hot Cross Buns" is an epic family joke to this very day because it was the only song I knew for at least my first full school year of playing. I used to have to walk to the bus stop, and then RIDE THE BUS, with a french horn case the size of Nebraska. My house, and therefore the walk to the bus stop, was on a major highway. One time, a truck full of construction workers whistled at me (the first time that ever happened in my life), and then promptly threw an empty Big Gulp at my head. You may recall on this here blog I once questioned taking up the French Horn again, and since I was called a nerd practically immediately, I didn't. Also, I didn't really mean it.
I once "filmed" a spoof version of Mortal Kombat with my high school guy friends. The only female in the film, I played the girlfriend of the lead character (played by a lanky blond named J/sh.) I was only in the first scene before being "killed", and throughout the rest of the movie my death was explained as "being frozen to death in a restaurant freezer and then having her titties cut off!" The film then continued with J/sh's character avenging my death by battling K/le, dressed in longjohns; Scott, who's face was covered with tin foil; and Matt, who wore Nick's dad's bathrobe and an upside-down basket on his head.
J/sh is now the lead singer in a mildly successful Ffx county band that rips off 311 and Blink 182, they have legions of 15 year old fans across the Midatlantic. When I saw him at my high school reunion he was high as a kite. K/le lives in smelly ol' Florida & is a mailman. Matt and Scott are MIA, but I've got five bucks on them both still living with their folks, and I seriously think Scott was 23 or 24 when this went down, so dude's gotta be pushing mid/late thirties. Whoever has this video: call me. I want it destroyed. I'll never be Mayor with that thing floating around.
I just changed my cell phone wallpaper to a frightening photo of a USS Enterprise model.
The last fight the N and I were in re: his use of a Blackberry WHILE. DRIVING.
I can draw bunnies really well. Most of my notes I take at work, during meetings, concalls, etc. are covered with doodles of frolicking bunnies. Sometimes humping bunnies, but very often a like: bunny rainstorms. Bunnies falling from the sky. Related: I have a weird thing for Easter decorations.
I was 28 before I worked for anything other than a hardcore Republican. I used to have a top secret clearance, which is a riot. I don't any longer, but getting it back would be pretty easy because despite my punk rock appearance (heeee), I have an incredibly dull background. Dear recent college grads: no one gives a shit that you smoked pot way back in the 90s.
My favorite conversation was held with my husband's ex-roommates. Besides, like, my wedding day and blah blah, I think my happiest life-moment ever was sitting around in the backyard as they smoked cigars one winter evening. I was wrapped in a Star Wars blanket, and they were reminiscing about glam rock, Canadian college drug availability and Hammer of the Gods: The Led Zeppelin Saga.
I am known for drunken crafting. I cut the tags off my college rommate's black Doc Martens once by accident and then drunkenly tried to glue them back on. I know how to make these stupid things, the D and I once constructed an entire sockdog army of them during the snowstorm of '03 ('04? I can't remember) and then tried to invade the living room from the dangerous trenches of the kitchen. God, I know. However, the best sockdog is one I sewed while totes smashed, it is now BD's toy and referred to as "the Fetal Alcohol Syndrome Sockdog." This weekend my v. proper MIL saw it, leaving me to explain that I sew drunk sometimes. That probably did not go over as well as it could have. Related: I
My grandmother was married 8 times, twice to the same man.
I don't know how to play poker, and no, I don't want to learn. But thanks for asking, Whole Entire World.
I hate bananas. They are fucking disgusting and if you like them then you are probably a bad person. Occasionally I will choke one down just because I know they are good for me, but that does not mean I condone them in any way.
I don't find Joanna Newsom particularly charming.
My sister-in-law insists I am the only person who buys Mitchum deodorant. I nicknamed my dog "Budge" for no real reason. I'm terribly impatient and bossy and a know-it-all. I occasionally flirt with my office doorman, a mid-60s guy who looks like a bum-legged Fred Sanford. I don't listen to voice mails, if it says I missed a call from you I'll just call you back, so don't ask if I've listened to your message because I probably haven't. One of my favorite movies ever is The Grifters.
I once duct-taped a girl to a rolling hot dot cart and then pushed the cart down the handicapped ramp of a swimming pool.
One of my favorite things ever written online:
I believe in Iggy, Jimi, Chryssie, and Joe Strummer, the Parents Almighty, Creator of heaven on earth; I believe in Malcolm McClaren and Sid Vicious, His only Son. I believe in punk, lo-fi and gangsta, indie, post-punk, indie-pop, rock, singer-songwriter, and insurgent country, conceived by Uncle Tupelo, born of Jeff Tweedy who suffers, as does Lou Barlow. I believe in Squirrelbait and Johnny Cash. I believe in the Motor City. I will respectfully love and fear Tad. I believe in Superchunk and PJ Harvey. I believe in new bands and will never pretend to know music I have never heard, so my mind may stay open and I will sitteth at the right hand of Mission of Burma so I may one day ascend to heaven, where I will be greeted by Sonic Youth, Eazy-E, and Mike Watt. I will not listen to rock critics, but trust my own ears. I believe in DIY, zines, Yo La Tengo, the communion of Saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of Cobain, and rock everlasting.