Wednesday, October 31, 2007
there is no shitting way you have 64 inch boobs and wear a b cup.
word to the wise, ladies: you cannot accurately measure for a bridesmaid dress with a metal tape measurer.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Seasons change, feelings change
Rumple-Grumpiest blog ever: it is 82 degrees in my office today.
Also, I just used Expose lyrics as a blog header. INTERNET FIRST.
Also, I just used Expose lyrics as a blog header. INTERNET FIRST.
MERRY FUCKING EARLY CHRISTMAS II
I have to second what the G said below. It was one of those weekends that seemed nice enough until someone asks you about it and it all falls apart. The car breaks down in the middle of the busiest part of VA, AAA says it will take 30 minutes but it takes 3 hours. And the repairs are well over a grand.
Then I got a $200 ticket for parking in a handicapped spot in front of my house that doesn’t exist. I mean the handicapped spot doesn’t exist, the house does.
I know this because the dishwasher has started leaking water. But that’s not too big of a deal because we only do dishes once a month. We’re like that children’s story where the guy just buys new dishes instead of cleaning the dirty ones. Or maybe we’re like that story where the magic pasta floods the whole villa.
Now the sink is backed up and when I took the trap off to see were the clog was about 5 gallons of nasty garbage disposal water shot into the kitchen and into my shoes and pants. 30 seconds later, the neighbor calls and says that we have a shared pipe so the free condo association plumber is coming to look at it but can’t show up until Saturday. But first thing Saturday so at least it’s a 7am inconvenience. And you can’t run the broken dishwasher anyway so feel free to clean them in the shower.
Now we have to deal with the condo association plumber guy who talks like Emo Philips. MOTHER FUCKING EMO PHILIPS!
So do we pay for the plumber who can come earlier or wait for the free one? Darling wife, I hope you like take-out.
Then I got a $200 ticket for parking in a handicapped spot in front of my house that doesn’t exist. I mean the handicapped spot doesn’t exist, the house does.
I know this because the dishwasher has started leaking water. But that’s not too big of a deal because we only do dishes once a month. We’re like that children’s story where the guy just buys new dishes instead of cleaning the dirty ones. Or maybe we’re like that story where the magic pasta floods the whole villa.
Now the sink is backed up and when I took the trap off to see were the clog was about 5 gallons of nasty garbage disposal water shot into the kitchen and into my shoes and pants. 30 seconds later, the neighbor calls and says that we have a shared pipe so the free condo association plumber is coming to look at it but can’t show up until Saturday. But first thing Saturday so at least it’s a 7am inconvenience. And you can’t run the broken dishwasher anyway so feel free to clean them in the shower.
Now we have to deal with the condo association plumber guy who talks like Emo Philips. MOTHER FUCKING EMO PHILIPS!
So do we pay for the plumber who can come earlier or wait for the free one? Darling wife, I hope you like take-out.
Monday, October 29, 2007
MERRY FUCKING EARLY CHRISTMAS
there are three different kinds of chili in our fridge/freezer right now. related: our sink is busted and isn't draining, and so there are dirty chili dishes all over the place that I will have to wash in the bathtub tonight.
not related, my car has 12k worth of repairs needed after a massive blowup in bailey's crossroads on sat. afternoon.
at least pre-halloween weekend festivities were a good time.
not related, my car has 12k worth of repairs needed after a massive blowup in bailey's crossroads on sat. afternoon.
at least pre-halloween weekend festivities were a good time.
Friday, October 26, 2007
Stay Classy, Poostew
The G loved the Death Feast poster for the crazy-assed typeface. I liked because it gave me a new challenge outside of photoshopping Chuck Brown karate-chopping Duke Ellington in the throat. Is it possible to decipher every name?
Two challenges:
First, these bands deliberately make their logos hard to read. There needs to be some mystery involved. There needs to be a sinister, parent-worrying, possible Satan worshipping, goat blood drinking, maggot bloated corpse edge to it. And they also seem to want to out do each other. Look at the far left on the top row. The band’s name is Foetopsy. But it looks like they spelled it using shaving gel on a filthy bathroom floor.
Secondly, staring at this red poster for an hour made my eyes go crazy. I’ve been to one of those Flophouse parties where they change all the light bulbs to red and your rods and cones get screwed up for a few days and when you drive home everything looks green. This was worse.
So without further ado, the list goes from right to left. Links to Myspace are included so you should probably turn the volume down. My grindcore ear isn’t as sophisticated as it was in high school but the songs sound exactly the same as they did back then. And they still sound exactly the same to each other.
Top row:
Napalm Death
Gorgasm
Foetopsy
Second row:
Immolation
Aborted
Krisiun
Cliteater
Sinister
Obscenity
Third row:
Wormed
Aversion to Life
Hour of Penance
Guttural Secrete
Mucopus
Emeth
Fourth row:
Defeated Sanity*
Leng Tch’e
Deadborn
Keitzer
Rumpel Grumpel**
Happyface
Fifth row:
Jack Slater
Putrid Pile
Fecal Corpse
Suppository
Human Mincer
Resurrected
Sixth row:
Grind Inc
Defeated Sanity*
Irate Architect
Dawn of Azazel
Debauchery
Poostew
The Death Feast 2008 lineup is already being formed.
*Defeated Sanity is listed twice on the poster. I don’t know if this was a mistake or if they did two sets.
**I could not find a website for either Rumple Grumple or Resurrected. Resurrected was too common a name. Rumple Grumple just rocked too hard.
Two challenges:
First, these bands deliberately make their logos hard to read. There needs to be some mystery involved. There needs to be a sinister, parent-worrying, possible Satan worshipping, goat blood drinking, maggot bloated corpse edge to it. And they also seem to want to out do each other. Look at the far left on the top row. The band’s name is Foetopsy. But it looks like they spelled it using shaving gel on a filthy bathroom floor.
Secondly, staring at this red poster for an hour made my eyes go crazy. I’ve been to one of those Flophouse parties where they change all the light bulbs to red and your rods and cones get screwed up for a few days and when you drive home everything looks green. This was worse.
So without further ado, the list goes from right to left. Links to Myspace are included so you should probably turn the volume down. My grindcore ear isn’t as sophisticated as it was in high school but the songs sound exactly the same as they did back then. And they still sound exactly the same to each other.
Top row:
Napalm Death
Gorgasm
Foetopsy
Second row:
Immolation
Aborted
Krisiun
Cliteater
Sinister
Obscenity
Third row:
Wormed
Aversion to Life
Hour of Penance
Guttural Secrete
Mucopus
Emeth
Fourth row:
Defeated Sanity*
Leng Tch’e
Deadborn
Keitzer
Rumpel Grumpel**
Happyface
Fifth row:
Jack Slater
Putrid Pile
Fecal Corpse
Suppository
Human Mincer
Resurrected
Sixth row:
Grind Inc
Defeated Sanity*
Irate Architect
Dawn of Azazel
Debauchery
Poostew
The Death Feast 2008 lineup is already being formed.
*Defeated Sanity is listed twice on the poster. I don’t know if this was a mistake or if they did two sets.
**I could not find a website for either Rumple Grumple or Resurrected. Resurrected was too common a name. Rumple Grumple just rocked too hard.
info stat
Someone explain Division Day to me. I have exactly three songs by them downloaded: a cover of SDRE, a cover of Roxy Music, and a cover of Depeche Mode. I'm not investing in Beartrap Island until the Internet tells me they aren't just a cover-band-with-an-indie-twist I can see at Clarendon Grill on Friday night happy hours.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Laissez faire pumpkinomics
I grew up within venial sinning distance of a certain Arlington Catholic high school that receives most of the county’s proudest delinquents after they’ve been permanently excused from the fine public schools. Among other un-pleasantries, it meant we could never have pumpkins on our front stoop until the fully-carved finality appeared on Halloween night. Any appearance prior to October 31st would result in a kicked-in pumpkin and its seedy brains scattered in the road. It was a neighborhood-wide issue. There were meetings.
In the end, my parents decided that it was just easier to not have pumpkins until the very last minute. When they showed up destroyed on Nov 1, at least they died with only a single day's worth of sentiment.
It was not until I got all grow’d up and moved into a semi-respectable and high school free neighborhood that I found out that there are other forces conspiring against wee pumpkins. For the first few day’s I couldn’t noodle out why bits of my poor gourd were disappearing into the Negative Zone. Then I caught those squirrel bastards red handed.
This idea was news to me but it seems like Que Sera, Sera. Squirrels eat pumpkins, what are you gonna do? I mean besides covering them with cayenne pepper or spraying them with hairspray*.
What you do is not buy a pumpkin 3 weeks before Halloween. I understood this basic fact of suburban living. The G did not.
Real world analogy: Say you buy a giant bag of Halloween-size boxes of Mike ‘n’ Ikes three weeks before the big day but open the package so you can have just one. Chances are that by the time the 31st rolls around, that junk is going to be gone. You should consider pumpkins as Mike N Ike’s for squirrels. (Full disclosure: we have about 3 boxes of Mike ‘n’ Ike’s left.)
I allowed the G to live with her mistake for a week while it slowly rotted on our steps. The squirrels got their fill after a few days and the mold and fruit flies moved in. On Monday it collapsed in on itself. Wednesday, it went into the trash. I refused to help. Laissez faire pumpkinomics.
I thought that was that. We all learned a valuable lesson. But this morning some wise guy squirrel took things to the next level. While walking the dog under a large tree, a chunk of pumpkin landed on my head. ON MY HEAD! Where I cut my hair and wear my giant pink helmet!
Escalation announcement received. I used to carry tennis balls around to alert squirrels before the dog could sneak up on them. If they weren’t paying attention, a quick shot across their bow would scare them up into tress. Not anymore. Every squirrel gets a ball, even if it’s already treed.
It's on.
*The former does not work. The latter supposedly does. But please wait until the hair spray is dry before illuminating the pumpkin. Unless you want things to get awesome and quick.
In the end, my parents decided that it was just easier to not have pumpkins until the very last minute. When they showed up destroyed on Nov 1, at least they died with only a single day's worth of sentiment.
It was not until I got all grow’d up and moved into a semi-respectable and high school free neighborhood that I found out that there are other forces conspiring against wee pumpkins. For the first few day’s I couldn’t noodle out why bits of my poor gourd were disappearing into the Negative Zone. Then I caught those squirrel bastards red handed.
This idea was news to me but it seems like Que Sera, Sera. Squirrels eat pumpkins, what are you gonna do? I mean besides covering them with cayenne pepper or spraying them with hairspray*.
What you do is not buy a pumpkin 3 weeks before Halloween. I understood this basic fact of suburban living. The G did not.
Real world analogy: Say you buy a giant bag of Halloween-size boxes of Mike ‘n’ Ikes three weeks before the big day but open the package so you can have just one. Chances are that by the time the 31st rolls around, that junk is going to be gone. You should consider pumpkins as Mike N Ike’s for squirrels. (Full disclosure: we have about 3 boxes of Mike ‘n’ Ike’s left.)
I allowed the G to live with her mistake for a week while it slowly rotted on our steps. The squirrels got their fill after a few days and the mold and fruit flies moved in. On Monday it collapsed in on itself. Wednesday, it went into the trash. I refused to help. Laissez faire pumpkinomics.
I thought that was that. We all learned a valuable lesson. But this morning some wise guy squirrel took things to the next level. While walking the dog under a large tree, a chunk of pumpkin landed on my head. ON MY HEAD! Where I cut my hair and wear my giant pink helmet!
Escalation announcement received. I used to carry tennis balls around to alert squirrels before the dog could sneak up on them. If they weren’t paying attention, a quick shot across their bow would scare them up into tress. Not anymore. Every squirrel gets a ball, even if it’s already treed.
It's on.
*The former does not work. The latter supposedly does. But please wait until the hair spray is dry before illuminating the pumpkin. Unless you want things to get awesome and quick.
in the news
Best illustration ever.
But in the nearer future, humans will evolve in 1,000 years into giants between 6ft and 7ft tall, he predicts, while life-spans will have extended to 120 years, Dr Curry claims.
Physical appearance, driven by indicators of health, youth and fertility, will improve, he says, while men will exhibit symmetrical facial features, look athletic, and have squarer jaws, deeper voices and bigger penises.
Women, on the other hand, will develop lighter, smooth, hairless skin, large clear eyes, pert breasts, glossy hair, and even features, he adds. Racial differences will be ironed out by interbreeding, producing a uniform race of coffee-coloured people.
However, Dr Curry warns, in 10,000 years time humans may have paid a genetic price for relying on technology.
Spoiled by gadgets designed to meet their every need, they could come to resemble domesticated animals.
Okay, I'm all about becoming a long-living all powerful giantess, but the first time I start to resemble BD and can chew on my own butt, that's grounds for suicide. Either that, or it's kind of awesome. I haven't decided yet.
But in the nearer future, humans will evolve in 1,000 years into giants between 6ft and 7ft tall, he predicts, while life-spans will have extended to 120 years, Dr Curry claims.
Physical appearance, driven by indicators of health, youth and fertility, will improve, he says, while men will exhibit symmetrical facial features, look athletic, and have squarer jaws, deeper voices and bigger penises.
Women, on the other hand, will develop lighter, smooth, hairless skin, large clear eyes, pert breasts, glossy hair, and even features, he adds. Racial differences will be ironed out by interbreeding, producing a uniform race of coffee-coloured people.
However, Dr Curry warns, in 10,000 years time humans may have paid a genetic price for relying on technology.
Spoiled by gadgets designed to meet their every need, they could come to resemble domesticated animals.
Okay, I'm all about becoming a long-living all powerful giantess, but the first time I start to resemble BD and can chew on my own butt, that's grounds for suicide. Either that, or it's kind of awesome. I haven't decided yet.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
ghost lingering
The N: BLU GHST. I'm gonna start taking pictures of funny license plates!
The G: Please don't do that. One, they aren't funny. Two, didn't you once send me the link to 3 or 4 websites that already do that? And six: that's such a creepy old man hobby.
The N: Fine.
The G: ...
The N: I'm gonna start watching planes land!
* * *
The G: Can I be a drug dealer in Second Life and make a lot of money?
The N: Did you know in Second Life you can get baby unicorns?
The G: What. That's kind of awesome.
The N: Yeah but you have to do it with an adult unicorn first.
* * *
Hey so Spoon* was pretty good, non? Despite being a totally fucked up situation? There were maybe 17 people and my gramma there despite several assurances from Human @ 930 dot com that if you didn't get yr raggedy ass to the 930 before sundown, you were not going to see a show. But it was nice. My elbows all askew and not in anyone's ribcage, no one shoving or pouring beer in my shoes. Jumpy pointy guy was there. Fresh air and a fresh-faced kid who was so swooning adorable when Britt Daniel passed us on the corner on his way inside the venue, AMattos and I thought he might actually faint. Who are these earnest rock fans I keep running into at shows? I like it! Prompt opener, promptly on stage at 8:05, no witty banter, great set list that came from all over, and I was home by 10. Bizarro concert world for old people. I can dig it.
I did make brief pleasant small talk outside pre-show with DCeiver and another friend of BStretch's (who's name I can't remember now) about how I guess I was "rooting for Denver" now that Cleveland is out. Okay, right, Colorado. Not Denver. Noted. But now I've spent a good 25 minutes this morning trying to find out why some teams represent entire states (Arizona DBacks) and other's are simply city teams (O's, etc). I would think it has something to do with ownership or taxes or $$$ because everything has to do with those things - but the Rockie's are owned by a giant group, one of the biggest partners is an Ohio guy I think, and it was Denver CITY taxes that were raised for Coors Field? Basically, I'm dumb probably and this is a really simple answer, so enlighten me already. It took me a good 10 years to get the infield fly rule, and I still don't understand the physics of how planes fly, so let's keep it simple, shall we?
*
(From thisun: set list:
"I Could See the Dude"
"Utilitarian"
"Minor Tough"
"Fitted Shirt"
"Anything You Want"
"Me and the Bean"
"Small Stakes"
"The Way We Get By"
"Stay Don't Go"
"Jonathan Fisk"
"Back to the Life"
"The Beast and Dragon, Adored"
"The Delicate Place"
"I Summon You"
"Don't Make Me a Target"
"The Ghost of You Lingers"
"You Got Yr. Cherry Bomb"
"The Underdog"
"Black Like Me"
Encore
"Japanese Cigarette Case"
"Peace Like a River" (Paul Simon)
"I Turn My Camera On"
"Don't You Evah"
"Rhythm and Soul"
"My Mathematical Mind")
The G: Please don't do that. One, they aren't funny. Two, didn't you once send me the link to 3 or 4 websites that already do that? And six: that's such a creepy old man hobby.
The N: Fine.
The G: ...
The N: I'm gonna start watching planes land!
* * *
The G: Can I be a drug dealer in Second Life and make a lot of money?
The N: Did you know in Second Life you can get baby unicorns?
The G: What. That's kind of awesome.
The N: Yeah but you have to do it with an adult unicorn first.
* * *
Hey so Spoon* was pretty good, non? Despite being a totally fucked up situation? There were maybe 17 people and my gramma there despite several assurances from Human @ 930 dot com that if you didn't get yr raggedy ass to the 930 before sundown, you were not going to see a show. But it was nice. My elbows all askew and not in anyone's ribcage, no one shoving or pouring beer in my shoes. Jumpy pointy guy was there. Fresh air and a fresh-faced kid who was so swooning adorable when Britt Daniel passed us on the corner on his way inside the venue, AMattos and I thought he might actually faint. Who are these earnest rock fans I keep running into at shows? I like it! Prompt opener, promptly on stage at 8:05, no witty banter, great set list that came from all over, and I was home by 10. Bizarro concert world for old people. I can dig it.
I did make brief pleasant small talk outside pre-show with DCeiver and another friend of BStretch's (who's name I can't remember now) about how I guess I was "rooting for Denver" now that Cleveland is out. Okay, right, Colorado. Not Denver. Noted. But now I've spent a good 25 minutes this morning trying to find out why some teams represent entire states (Arizona DBacks) and other's are simply city teams (O's, etc). I would think it has something to do with ownership or taxes or $$$ because everything has to do with those things - but the Rockie's are owned by a giant group, one of the biggest partners is an Ohio guy I think, and it was Denver CITY taxes that were raised for Coors Field? Basically, I'm dumb probably and this is a really simple answer, so enlighten me already. It took me a good 10 years to get the infield fly rule, and I still don't understand the physics of how planes fly, so let's keep it simple, shall we?
*
(From thisun: set list:
"I Could See the Dude"
"Utilitarian"
"Minor Tough"
"Fitted Shirt"
"Anything You Want"
"Me and the Bean"
"Small Stakes"
"The Way We Get By"
"Stay Don't Go"
"Jonathan Fisk"
"Back to the Life"
"The Beast and Dragon, Adored"
"The Delicate Place"
"I Summon You"
"Don't Make Me a Target"
"The Ghost of You Lingers"
"You Got Yr. Cherry Bomb"
"The Underdog"
"Black Like Me"
Encore
"Japanese Cigarette Case"
"Peace Like a River" (Paul Simon)
"I Turn My Camera On"
"Don't You Evah"
"Rhythm and Soul"
"My Mathematical Mind")
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Sports sports sports. I love sports. Sports.
He told us straight to our faces that he couldn’t play because his foot was paralyzed. Looked us right in the eyes and laughed his lying laugh. And then he hobbled off.
Fine. We don’t need you or your fake gimpy leg and pickle throwing arm. We had a quarterback who could lead us to 28-0 losses while throwing interceptions on every drive. And he was cut. We didn’t need two of them.
Now we have a new quarterback who’s only thrown one pick and it was a Hail Mary across his body moving the opposite way. But all was forgiven because he’s very handsome and has a great smile that makes the refs pick up their across-the-line-of-scrimmage flags even when he’s clearly three yards past the sticks.
Sexy new quarterback can do so many things that Shuler can't.
Fine. We don’t need you or your fake gimpy leg and pickle throwing arm. We had a quarterback who could lead us to 28-0 losses while throwing interceptions on every drive. And he was cut. We didn’t need two of them.
Now we have a new quarterback who’s only thrown one pick and it was a Hail Mary across his body moving the opposite way. But all was forgiven because he’s very handsome and has a great smile that makes the refs pick up their across-the-line-of-scrimmage flags even when he’s clearly three yards past the sticks.
Sexy new quarterback can do so many things that Shuler can't.
glamorous life
I've stepped up my game enough that I will indeed be attending Spoon tonight (with these folks). My head still vaguely feels like it might pop off my body and start it's own orbital rotation around Earth (MOON HEAD!) but I can deal with it. No alcohol though. Show's over, people; the lights have been on for at least fifteen minutes. Clear the premises.
No other news. Listening to Dappled Cities. Making plans to bus up to NYC. Saw "Gone Baby Gone." Made a weird rice dish last night that looked like oatmeal and tasted like scorpion poison (you have led me stray for the last time, allrecipes.com!) Helping build Halloween costumes (yes, I said "build.") Curing leprosy. Etc.
No other news. Listening to Dappled Cities. Making plans to bus up to NYC. Saw "Gone Baby Gone." Made a weird rice dish last night that looked like oatmeal and tasted like scorpion poison (you have led me stray for the last time, allrecipes.com!) Helping build Halloween costumes (yes, I said "build.") Curing leprosy. Etc.
Monday, October 22, 2007
my life is sore.
"I've never seen you drunk!" - C. Andrews.
Here, a handy guide:
I have hazy memories of talking absolute nonsense, and also stumbling pretty awesomely while on my way to said inside keg, which although drunk, I can still blame on an ankle that can't support my fat ass. Anyway, I didn't leave my room all day yesterday except to eat mashed potatoes and find the remote when I flipped it off the bed.
Also, I had a weird dream about Charles Bissell serving me grilled cheese in a Route 66 diner in Oklahoma.
Beyond that, people, I got nothing. Except I'm home sick from work today, which I don't think has anything to do with this past weekend. Unless one of you fuckers passed along a whopping case of meningitis. In which case, I totally hate you.
Here, a handy guide:
I have hazy memories of talking absolute nonsense, and also stumbling pretty awesomely while on my way to said inside keg, which although drunk, I can still blame on an ankle that can't support my fat ass. Anyway, I didn't leave my room all day yesterday except to eat mashed potatoes and find the remote when I flipped it off the bed.
Also, I had a weird dream about Charles Bissell serving me grilled cheese in a Route 66 diner in Oklahoma.
Beyond that, people, I got nothing. Except I'm home sick from work today, which I don't think has anything to do with this past weekend. Unless one of you fuckers passed along a whopping case of meningitis. In which case, I totally hate you.
Friday, October 19, 2007
or were we called the drone clones? we can't remember.
Catherine and I are hard at work at forming an all-girl noise band called the Drone Crones. The first order of business will, of course, be a self-released CD named Murder of Sluts. Credit where credit is due.
rainbows
One: this morning I admitted to Ryan that I liked "Bodysnatchers." I still think the rest of it is dull.
Two: My husband has a date tonight. Whoever is interested in bellying up to a bar (TBD) to drink beers with me should send me an email. Otherwise, I might go bowling.
Also, godammit, Cleveland. The hell.
Two: My husband has a date tonight. Whoever is interested in bellying up to a bar (TBD) to drink beers with me should send me an email. Otherwise, I might go bowling.
Also, godammit, Cleveland. The hell.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
This is our 1,600 post. Obviously, nothing like your SAT scores.
Ladies, we live in a society and society has rules and if we want to operate in this society we need to follow those rules. That means you can’t wander in off the street, all late in shit, hoping to get cauliflower ear or that staph infection that kills high school kids and not expect to get locked the fuck out.
Have fun at Galaxy Hut, you chugalugs.
Have fun at Galaxy Hut, you chugalugs.
state of the crazy people, puppies, etc, rambling
I don't have anything to blog about because besides driving to work, I haven't left my house since Sunday. We've been cooking actual meals and going to bed at reasonable elderhostelesque hours. All is calm-n-copasetic in the Pyggie household, save for the taste of rage I get every time I see a squirrel. Those little bastards are dead to me. BD is not doing his job protecting my hastily-purchased-afterthought H'ween decorations.
Lesse, how much more boring can I make myself sound. I recently bought a hat that makes me look like a young female Mao Zedong, without the whole being Asian thing. I got a new laptop @ work and now am farting around on Vista. I need new music recommendations to download (no donkey electronica) so I can stop listening to the same ridiculous choices I made while on the Vic a few weeks ago (NO SERIOUSLY YOU GUYS who downloaded ALL THIS TOAD THE WET SPROCKET) The D. IM'd me yesterday all upset because she had a dream that Jeff Tweedy died. At some point this past weekend, I made mention of how maybe I'd like to learn to play tennis and everyone took me seriously. I'm doing yoga tonight and I might die??????
Hrmph.
- photo detective
- puppy saver
- TAXI!
- PEOPLE. Cleveland is sooo going to clinch this thing, and then my loyalties will be split. Do I root for Colorado and the awesomeness that is Matt Holliday, or do I stick with Mr. Blake and therefore incur some serious text message wrath from rabid-Rockies-fanatic-friend Brian? I only know anything about CR because of his foaming at the mouth, anyways. Choices, choices. Also seriously factoring into my decision: the name "Jhonny." I think the way to decide this is to go back to the salary listings, and I will simply root for whichever team has the lesser payroll. Additionally, courtesy ILB: I seriously can't stand Dane Cook. *
- stupidest thing I've seen this morning. This single photo made me stupid-er in 5 seconds of glancation than watching an entire season of "Rock of Love." I don't think the previous sentence is even CLOSE to being gramatically correct, that's how stupid I now am.
- I have it on good authority that "Puppy Bowl" is being filmed right now and that the puppies have like, bodyguards.
* (and while we're discussing baseball, let's revisit this awesome quote from former White Sox (now with, according to Wikipedia, the Long Island Ducks) Carl Everett circa 2005ish or so: "God created the sun, the stars, the heavens and the earth, and then made Adam and Eve," Everett said last Friday, before the Red Sox lost two of three in Atlanta. "The Bible never says anything about dinosaurs. You can't say there were dinosaurs when you never saw them. Someone actually saw Adam and Eve. No one ever saw a Tyrannosaurus rex." YAY CARL EVERETT GREATEST AMERICAN HERO!
Lesse, how much more boring can I make myself sound. I recently bought a hat that makes me look like a young female Mao Zedong, without the whole being Asian thing. I got a new laptop @ work and now am farting around on Vista. I need new music recommendations to download (no donkey electronica) so I can stop listening to the same ridiculous choices I made while on the Vic a few weeks ago (NO SERIOUSLY YOU GUYS who downloaded ALL THIS TOAD THE WET SPROCKET) The D. IM'd me yesterday all upset because she had a dream that Jeff Tweedy died. At some point this past weekend, I made mention of how maybe I'd like to learn to play tennis and everyone took me seriously. I'm doing yoga tonight and I might die??????
Hrmph.
- photo detective
- puppy saver
- TAXI!
- PEOPLE. Cleveland is sooo going to clinch this thing, and then my loyalties will be split. Do I root for Colorado and the awesomeness that is Matt Holliday, or do I stick with Mr. Blake and therefore incur some serious text message wrath from rabid-Rockies-fanatic-friend Brian? I only know anything about CR because of his foaming at the mouth, anyways. Choices, choices. Also seriously factoring into my decision: the name "Jhonny." I think the way to decide this is to go back to the salary listings, and I will simply root for whichever team has the lesser payroll. Additionally, courtesy ILB: I seriously can't stand Dane Cook. *
- stupidest thing I've seen this morning. This single photo made me stupid-er in 5 seconds of glancation than watching an entire season of "Rock of Love." I don't think the previous sentence is even CLOSE to being gramatically correct, that's how stupid I now am.
- I have it on good authority that "Puppy Bowl" is being filmed right now and that the puppies have like, bodyguards.
* (and while we're discussing baseball, let's revisit this awesome quote from former White Sox (now with, according to Wikipedia, the Long Island Ducks) Carl Everett circa 2005ish or so: "God created the sun, the stars, the heavens and the earth, and then made Adam and Eve," Everett said last Friday, before the Red Sox lost two of three in Atlanta. "The Bible never says anything about dinosaurs. You can't say there were dinosaurs when you never saw them. Someone actually saw Adam and Eve. No one ever saw a Tyrannosaurus rex." YAY CARL EVERETT GREATEST AMERICAN HERO!
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
spidercricketpigs
Arrrghhhh, flashback re: these pieces of shit. I lived in a basement FULL of these effers for a year of my life. The N. thought they would jump into his gaping maw as he snored slept; thus, he blames their presence on why he never (ever) drove out to the wilds of Fairfax to stay at my house. And explains how I put 8 million commuter miles on my ever-breaking-down Volvo that year. I drove 66 twice a day for 365+ days, added on to my typical daily work commute. Pain. In. My. Asshole.
I blame his absence not on the cricket infestation, but on his sheer laziness and the fact that I catered to his every dude whim. Man, girls are chumps. I mean, even after I moved 2 miles away from him in the ARL (a house which involved infestations of other sorts: fleas, rats, a possum in the chimney, woodpeckers in the living room; i may have mentioned this 10000X before on the internet) I still had to sleep my ass at his grody boy-house every night.
But then a few years later we got married and that catering bullshit stopped immediately. Right? Right. Or something. I did take the dog for a walk this morning (first time in a month). Wife of the year!
Update on the mousepad situation: Sommer has found me a clear frontrunner. It involves Ghost Casey Novak (she's transparent!)
I blame his absence not on the cricket infestation, but on his sheer laziness and the fact that I catered to his every dude whim. Man, girls are chumps. I mean, even after I moved 2 miles away from him in the ARL (a house which involved infestations of other sorts: fleas, rats, a possum in the chimney, woodpeckers in the living room; i may have mentioned this 10000X before on the internet) I still had to sleep my ass at his grody boy-house every night.
But then a few years later we got married and that catering bullshit stopped immediately. Right? Right. Or something. I did take the dog for a walk this morning (first time in a month). Wife of the year!
Update on the mousepad situation: Sommer has found me a clear frontrunner. It involves Ghost Casey Novak (she's transparent!)
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