Wednesday, January 25, 2006

Apparently, March is a busy month.

Today, I'd like to wish a Happy Birthday to Kelly (another one), a.k.a. Gunnar. She is one step closer to being old like the rest of us. Hopefully, sometime in the near future, we can tool around the streets in our new vehicles from the Honda/Acura family!

Take it easy, Gunnar, and remember: I have no bail money for any antics that you may have during Gasparilla!

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Tuesday, January 24, 2006

Oh, just let it be... "with a baseball bat!"

Before posting the marvelous bit below, I would like to wish Kelly K. and Kelly K. a happy birthday today. Yes, I find it strange that I know two Kelly K.'s who share the same birthday. Does it make it even weirder that I went to high school with both of them?

Anyway, to celebrate general good birthday cheer for the month, what better way to do it than to celebrate
Peanut Butter Jelly Time?

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Friday, January 20, 2006

Em-tastic!

Happy Birthday to Em, who turns one year older today... She will probably spend a good portion of her day chasing around the little Walker, Texas Ranger and eluding the Po-po. Or not. Regardless, let's wish her well!

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Sunday, January 15, 2006

Is there any doubt...

Why I claim these rugrats as my little Boos?
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No matter that they're little camera hogs; I've got Squirtle doing the removable fingertip gag, Leelee posturing like she's modeling the latest by Baby Phat, and Beebee pretending she's participating in a New Year's Eve checkpoint. These three just kill me!

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But I wouldn't trade them for anything!

Just had to share. Proceed with your Sunday evening.

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Thursday, January 12, 2006

"Judgy Wudgy" was a bear!

Sorry. Just got done watching that episode of SATC where Carrie walks in on Samantha with the Worldwide Delivery guy, then Samantha walks in on Stanford and Marcus... it just cracks my shit up.

Anyway, I wanted to wish Teresa, aka Little Kielbasa, a happy birthday today! She is well on her way to producing a Little Smokie some time in the coming months, so let's give a big shout out to her and her hubs, Michael, on this auspicious day! Dayton, represent!

Dear God, I can't believe I just typed that. Oh, well.

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Monday, January 09, 2006

What a bitchass.

Okay, so this has been bugging me since Christmas.

Remember that Fruity Pebbles commercial that always came on during the holiday season? You know, the one where (surprise) Barney tries to con his way into getting a bowl of Fruity Pebbles? Yeah, well I was thinking about it, out of nowhere, during the holidays. I think it had something to do with not having a chimney or some shit.

Anyway, I am full on remembering this commercial, and what Fred, Santa, and Barney are all saying. I remember that Barney, in pretending to be Santa to bogart said Pebbles, falls down the chimney, sees the Fat Man enjoying a bowl with Fred (what imagery, indeed!), and with great incredulity, exclaims, "Santa?! My Pebbles!"

Fred, of course, immediately retorts with, "
Your Pebbles?!"

Santa, of course, is like fucking King Solomon (no babies were halved during the filming of this commercial... that I
know of, anyway) and chastises Fred with, "'Tis the season to be sharing, Fred!" And then Fred, like a spineless fuck, hands Barney a bowl of his own.

WTF?
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Sorry, honey, but your dad is a spineless sack of sh*t.

First of all, who is the friggin' freeloader that has to resort to disguises and trickery to get his mitts on a bowl of damned cereal? And who's so bold as to be doing the B&E during the holidays, with a bunch of carolers present? That takes some balls, I tell you!

And then
Fred gets chastised? Who the hell is Santa to be throwing judgment around like dirty pennies? Hello, whose house just got busted into by a greedy whoremonger? Why doesn't Barney get a finger waved in his face, too? Show of hands, anyone?

Ah, well. I don't know why it had me so riled up. And for almost two weeks, even! I've got issues, no doubt.

Maybe I should try to decompress by fiddling with that facial recognition thing that compares your facial features to celebrities...

...fiddling...

Sweet! according to this, the "face recognition certainty" is as follows:
62% Zhang Ziyi
60% Aaliyah
51% Mariah Carey (only 10% of the "boob recognition certainty," however), and
49% Emma Watson (what?)

Okay. Definitely time for a beverage.

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Saturday, January 07, 2006

Born to model!

I'm telling you, somebody get... well, somebody big in the fashion world, anyway, on the horn; we've got the Next Big Thing!
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Riley pauses for a moment to determine whether or not she can successfully get her tongue back into her mouth.

I'm telling you, the kid's a natural. This afternoon, we went over to Ryan Phillippe Park to stretch the legs and get Riles used to the new vehicle. So far, I don't think she likes being in the back, since she's all by herself back there. Anyway, after walking around a bit and letting her do her business, I decided to sit on the tailgate with her so she could get used to her surroundings. Well, I also took the opportunity to take some pics of the new car (available on request), and Riles was nice enough to sit pretty on the tailgate whilst I snapped away. A lady passing by even complimented her: "Your dog is so well-behaved!" I was such a proud Mom!

After a successful photo shoot at the park, and after relaxing in the tailgate, I decided to load up and head back to the homestead. Right as I was buckling my seatbelt, I looked back to see this:
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"Say what???"

Unfortunately, I could not document her attempt to jump over the back seats to get to the front. Suffice it to say that I heard her collar jingling, looked back to see half of her body on top of the back seats, then saw her disappear behind the seats again with a thud. Needless to say, her attempts to conquer the backseats were quite fruitless. She may have concussed herself a little.

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Say this for the adventurous little bugger: She sure is photogenic! Don't you agree?

Okay, enough braggadocio. Off to treat ol' Muppet Paws to a Milkbone!

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Thursday, January 05, 2006

Extreme bloat and cars humping.

I'm so very, very glad that tomorrow is Friday... I don't know how much more I can take of this work shit this week.

Tomorrow is "Spirit Day" at work, where you get to pay a buck to wear jeans and a Bucs t-shirt or jersey. I will gladly wear jeans and my oversized Alstott jersey, as Botanicus has reached epic proportions as a result of holiday gluttony. Yes, my friends, we have yet again reached critical mass!

Of course, my jonesing for Chicago hard rolls slathered with honey roasted crunchy peanut butter this week hasn't helped, either. Oh well.

So, earlier tonight, I realized just how fucking impossible it is to reach someone's house when streetlights are placed along the road at a rate of one per square mile. Nonetheless, I had a low-speed adventure in the new car (name to be determined), tooling around the IRB, miraculously finding the house I was looking for, then enjoying two hours of someone who shall remain nameless teetering around the house and across the street, thanks to two-and-a-half vodka cranberrys on an empty stomach.

Word. Wish I'd brought the camera. It was classic.

Anyway, said drunken compatriot made a few admiring circles around the new car, and declared that it looked like a weird combination of their car and their spouse's. Then we both (as I had a horrid case of the sympathy giggles) had a time picturing a Mini Cooper and a low-slung BMW humping and having my Element as their offspring, kind of like the dwarves that marry and have giant kids. Right. And I swear, I didn't have any of those cocktails, which makes it doubly scary.

Okay, it's getting late. Better put together my "Spirit Day" ensemble. Somebody in Jax better be clutching their John Lynch jersey happily to their chest as they drift to sleep tonight!

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Hook that shit!

Apparently, my technique worked for the entire Bowl Series this year. Congratulations to Texas, who just won the NC sitting on the shoulders of Vince Young!

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Run, Vince, Run!

And run that magnificent bastard did, to the tune of three rushing touchdowns!

The above Vince Young, of course, should never be confused with that schlub from 9-0:Image hosted by Photobucket.com
"Vincent" Young, the guy who always looked tired and/or stoned as Noah on 90210.

Oh, wait, here's a far better picture:
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Of course, the New Math makes him much, much older. That, and the bowl cut and porn star 'stache.

I wanted Texas to win, merely because I detest any college team that wears anything remotely resembling garnet and gold, and I don't dig on dudes who take one Ballroom Dancing class to stay eligible to play a fifth season of football. Also, I felt I needed to throw Texas my support since almost ten years ago, they (along with Ohio State) helped us win our own NC.

Okay, now I can go to bed.

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Wednesday, January 04, 2006

Bowl cut.

I am of the mind that if I don't watch the bowl games, they will end favorably. This theory worked for me yesterday, when I refused to watch the madness and went to bed. I hope this works tonight.

I can't stand watching any football other than Gator Football for very long, nor can I stomach any college football commentator other than Mick (this, of course, is why Danhole and I are constantly muttering about how we should become color commentators when our heads are exploding at the sound of Verne and Todd). Hence, after the past week, I can officially say that I'm all Bowled out. Insert modified lyrics from Lisa Lisa and the Cult Jam here.

However, for my last Bowl bit, I couldn't resist letting you know that Jesse, our fave-rave Canadian, was a stone's throw from my house (taking into account that it has to be a huge-ass stone thrown by a friggin' giant of Lord of the Rings proportions). To wit:

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You know, something about this picture just makes me chuckle. I can't quite put my finger on it.

On a totally unrelated note, Riley just burped, and it smells like the half banana her Grandpa gave her after dinner this evening. I don't know whether to be disgusted or "Awww!" at the cuteness (?) of it.

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More oldness!

Happy birthday to Vannessa, one of the O.B.'s ("Original Beavers" to you), a.k.a The Latin Lover, a.k.a. the Barracuda, a.k.a. Buttnessa... oh, do I need to go on?

Vannessa was one of my suitemates in Beaty West, Year One, and has always brought a smile to my face and a grab to my ass! She now resides in Las Vegas with her husband Kevin, surrounded by countless S&M minions friends. Wish her well, then stick a twenty in her waistband... she won't mind a bit!

Have a Happy Beaver Birthday!

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Tuesday, January 03, 2006

Wow.

I just realized that for my very first post for 2006, I posted an image of someone's package getting grabbed.

This bodes well for a fantabulous year of blogging ahead, eh?

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Best wedding reception, ever!

Well, as far as I can tell, it was. The following picture is courtesy of Joe, aka "Broseph," who, with his lovely wife, Suzanne, went to a wedding last week. One of the lovely little chestnuts from the reception is pictured below: some chick sitting on Rich's lap "accidentally" dropped her earring, and...

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...understandably so, mistakes Rich's cockring for her hoop.

Say this for that Dutch sonofabee, he has impeccable timing with the camera!

Feel free to discuss this amongst your friends and colleagues.

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