Monday, November 29, 2004

The Edge of Reason. Reasonably, schmeasonably!

Just thought you folks would like to see the President of the Festively Plump: the Unofficial Bridget Jones Fan Club, Oviedo Chapter:

"I mean, I fucking LOVED the first one! I heart Colin Firth. What a hottie!"

You may now go about your daily business.

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Monday, November 22, 2004

"I let the melody shine, let it cleanse my mind. I feel free now. "

So much to write about today.
I realize that I haven’t written much lately… I got hit with this cold/congestion/feels a little like consumption thing, and I’ve been pretty much OOC for two weeks (Out Of Commission in this case, as opposed to the usual Out Of Control).

And so much has been happening!

Take for instance, the fact that I’ve been drowning in a sea of intakes, and I think that as of this afternoon, right here, from Borders, wedged between an old dude browsing The Drudge Report while bitching on his cell phone to his invisible friend about the NBA melee last Friday, and what I can only presume is a college student doing a current events report (fifth grade, anyone?) on a laptop with a National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacationdesktop image, I’m beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Yes, my happy ass is back at Borders, the Mecca of my work-related productivity. And yes, I am still using the sad work laptop, since I still do not have my own (sigh). And no, I am not going to use this opportunity to scope out available dudes... Aw, hell. Scratch that last one. I’m not a very good liar.

Moving on. Anyway, yes, I’ve been sick for over a week, and have nothing to show for it but a great tolerance for all sorts of cough and cold medicines. I’m at the end of the cold medicine spectrum where I’m actively seeking out stuff that “makes coughs more productive." Productive? Like what, a six-figure annual income and 3.2 children productive? Maybe I should stay away from taking the night-time stuff during the day. Wait. I can hear the old guy’s tunes through his headphones. Must crank my own up a few notches.

I keep jumping off topic. Ah yes... THIS WEEKEND. I’ll admit openly that a good bulk of it was dedicated to two things: THE GAME, and RECOVERING FROM THE GAME. Oh, it was a beaut! There was action, there was drama, there was a spattering of crappy calls, but overall, I found the whole experience WHOLLY SATISFYING. Satisfying in that Route 44 size Orange Slush from Sonic way. Satisfying in that “I’m going to remind Jaz every time I hear “Toxic” that she bitched “My God, I can’t believe I’m dancing to a Britney Spears song for you!” way. Oh, yeah. Like that.

And like this:

Caption: Looking downfield for an open man, Chris Leak feels the impending pressure from Dicks... hee hee... bearing down on him. Wait, I can't do this! I know it's Dickson, but still!

Oh, and there's this:

Caption: Zook pulled out all the stops for what was probably his final game as head coach. This "fly by the seat of your pants" coaching style culminated in the fourth quarter, when he finished off the Seminoles' defensive line with his "Big Daddy Crane" Style.

Man, I should write caption for a living. I'm having too much fun by myself in public!

Now I'm tired, and people are looking at me funny. Screw you guys, I'm going home!

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Tuesday, November 16, 2004

DJ Rumpshaker can't stop sneezing.

I wonder, can dogs get colds? And if so, is there some sort of Cocker Spaniel Sudafed I can give her?

By the way, click here to view something totally, totally wrong.

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Monday, November 15, 2004

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to introduce... the high hat!"

This is what I get for listening to "Buffalo Stance" in the car five times today!

I feel like hell. That sore throat that went away, then came back with a vengeance so powerful, it rendered me speechless (!) has turned into a certifiable pain in my tuckus. I've spent most of the day chugging beverages and trying not to yell at children... a formidable task, to say the least.

The good thing is, I managed to sequester myself at Borders all afternoon and got almost all the way caught up with my paperwork. Hooray for me! At 8 tonight, I decided to call it a day and return home to the loving paws of my pooch, whose latest nickname is "DJ Rumpshaker."

Funny how a sense of accomplishment in the little things can change your mood entirely, huh?


The cover image for DJ Rumpshaker's latest album,
Hue of Danforth

Anyway, I hope to keep this streak of industriousness going for the rest of the week. I got access to one of the work laptops (which is, btw, old like Methuselah), so I managed to take it on an extended break and hammer out today's paperwork. It just reminded me how much more motivated I'll be to do my work on time on that sweet day I'll have my own laptop.

Which is probably about as motivated as I am at the present to do my work: not a hell of a lot.

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Thursday, November 11, 2004

"I'm sorry, but I'm a comic book hero that wears panties."

Preach on, sister. Preach on!
I think that I am going to do my best to not lose my mind this evening. Granted, I probably have to get up really early tomorrow to get the car towed down to the garage in St. Petersburg (I would love to see Mr. "Women Belong in the Kitchen!" Mechanic's face when he's told that the starter that
he put in started burning up under the hood,) but for now, I want to be stress free.

"I'm sorry. I shall choose 'Balloons' for five hundred, Alex."

Sorry. Had a moment.

Anyway, my evening of mirth begins after publishing this post. I'm going to sprawl on the bed and watch the half-hour weeknight editions of Cheaters (and if I thought Tommy Grand was a dork before, this Joey Greco joker with his flavor saver mustache is a total yutz), and fall asleep before the dog does. Oh yeah, and I'm going to post this picture in anticipation of the movie that comes out in 60-some odd days. Mark your calendars, bee-yatches!


"I'm gonna jam this stick... up his butthole! Crikey, he's really pissed now!"

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This week needs "to be over like Rover the Casanova!"

At least that's how I remember the quote. I can't even remember what show I remember the quote from. I could have sworn I heard it on "In Living Color." Then again, I could've sworn I heard the term "Funky butt-loving" in Little Monsters, and we all remember how many years it took for me and Danhole to figure out that we were indeed incorrect in that assumption. Plus, so much swearing. Goodness.

Strangely enough, on my longest work day of the week, I had somewhat of a reprieve from the stresses of the week. That reprieve ended this evening, when the starter in my car decided to go wonky in the Costco parking lot, then wouldn't stop whirring, then started emitting foul smoke that engulfed the hood. Now, mind you, I just got a new starter less than a month ago, so I am none too pleased. The hits just keep coming. So now, I have to cancel the estimate I have an appointment for in the morning (the result of the fender-bender that happened over the weekend) since, well, shit, I can't exactly move the car.

I so seriously need a vacation.

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La Resistance lives on.

It's been another long day, and I am heading to bed. I will probably post the story about the lazy retail worker later. For now, let us enjoy a little picture from the Halloween phone cam. Riley wore the ladybug outfit for a short while, but the cap just didn't fit right, and ended up looking like a red beret.

I think she hated me just a little that day.

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Tuesday, November 09, 2004

The DarkChild Remix.

So, I'm feeling a little better than last night. I took some time to vent out with some of my girls (shouts out to Stumpy, Jaz and Ris-K for holding me down! Okay, no more DJ slang. For now). After sufficient bitching and constant reassurance from said girls, I think I'm okay for right now. I'm just going to concentrate on the little things that make me happy, like my unbelievable tolerance for schmaltz. To wit, my favorite audio tape purchased in 1990:

That's right, amigos: Paintings in My Mind, by fellow Jersey native, Thomas Alden Page!

I just heard a collective "WTF?" Hey, I was thirteen, and just coming off the whole New Kids/Joey phase, and the NKOTB did backing vocals on two songs on the album, which, btw, was wonderfully sappy. There were all sorts of cheesy pictures of him in the cassette (!) insert, walking on the beach and whatnot. In fact, I do believe that I can trace my extreme attraction to men in khakis to this very album. Wow, I just realized that. I need to sit down. Oh, wait.

Fine, I'll move on.

No, wait. I just found a more recent picture of Tommy, circa 2000:

It's nice to see that he's keeping up with his craft. Or whatever you call it. And he still appears to have all of his hair!

Okay. Now, I'm moving on.

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Monday, November 08, 2004

Yeah, so today sucked.

It wasn't one of my better days. Work was fine, except for the fact that I didn't get nearly as much as I wanted done. The suck started when I was essentially told that it's my fault that someone backed into the side of my car because I apparently think I know everything, and continued when I couldn't find chocolate in the house to complement the non-dinner I had, on through the great debate over whether or not eating marshmallows was such a healthy idea (I reasoned that it was, because the package clearly states that they are "a fat-free food," so whoever wants to quibble with it can f off).

The Circle of Suckitude ceases as of right now, because five minutes ago, I went to the fridge in desperate need of the last caramel apple, only to find that it had either rotted or, more likely, been bitten and put back in the container. I kept asking my mother whether or not she thought it looked rotten or bitten, and she kept replying "I really don't know anything about that," as if I were asking questions with the intent to pin the blame. Well, shit, my whole line of questioning wasn't aimed at blaming, it was aimed at finding out whether or not I could eat the fucking thing. I ended up throwing it out (better safe than sorry and puking, I always say). And I am determined to end this crap by falling asleep to the dulcet tones of my dog gnawing on her chew toy.

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Wednesday, November 03, 2004

Tired.

It's been a long day at work. I am mentally and physically exhausted from a day full of talking to children about all kinds of crazy things. I need a moment, a focal point, to help me unwind before taking to the bed. Ah, I know:



Yes. Now, I definitely feel better.

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Monday, November 01, 2004

"I can roll if you can; don't be a punk!"

Okay. So, two critical comments in a week, huh? This better not become habit:

Ok, perhaps I missed something but the only update I saw was her tongue hanging out... :p Where's the scandal!?
My bad, but in many cultures around the world, I would think her tongue hanging out counted as scandal!?

Fine, fine. Here's the Britney Scandal Report of the Week, brought to you in part by Suzanne "Thank God She's Pretty" Bourne Reyenga*:

There is no scandal this week. Other than the fact that Britney is still married to that idiot. I seriously think that if he stopped dressing like a prison bitch and shaved his facial once in a while, he could be passably attractive.

Oh, my kingdom for Anson Mount!


Rrrow.


Double rrrow.

Or even that French guy in the "Don't Let Me Be The Last To Know" video. He was hot to trot (ass tan lines and all).

Heh heh. Frenchy. Heh heh.

Wait, wait! I found something scandalous!
A picture from the "Outrageous" video shoot (remember, the one where Brit busted her knee again and had to cancel the rest of her tour?).

Now, if this doesn't say, "Holy Shizzle," I don't know what does! I hope they finish that video. That'd rule.

*Oh, hush. She knows I love her. :)

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