Wednesday, March 01, 2006

No, no, no, no; don't phunk with my charts!

I have to give Jeffrey props for that one. That shit was hilarious. Granted, it took me nearly a year to give him his props, but I think he'll recover swiftly. I'll just throw a Buffy action figure at him. That should keep him plenty occupied.

So, over on Lengli's blog, she did this whole thing about songs from her senior year of high school. Not only did it 1) make me feel old as shit, but it also 2) inspired me to do something similar. Funny how the music theme has popped up in the last couple of weeks.I looked at the songs that debuted during my senior year in high school, but I also noticed that a good deal of them were more prevalent during the fall semester of my freshman year, so I ran with those, too. Anyway, here's my take on it. In no particular order. Just deal with it.

1.) Beastie Boys, "Sabotage" - Ah, Check Your Head and Ill Communication were two of the best albums to color the span of my life from 1992-1994. And "Sabotage" brings back the wondrous memories of the beginning of my freshman year, when the Wink Posse, newly formed Gainesville chapter, spent a good deal of time learning how to be in college (which was surprisingly a lot like being in high school, but with 90% less parents and a lot more local concerts).

The first week up there, we were putzing around on campus one evening, and the boys re-enacted a spirited rendition of the "Sabotage" video by bouncing off of buildings and rolling around everywhere. Glass, Lord bless his ever-loving soul, complete with blue fiberglass arm cast, decided to do his part by dropping and rolling on the ground by the Union... right onto a pile of dog shit. It took him a few moments to realize this, then he tried to start wiping it off with his non-casted hand. After that didn't work, he decided the best way to get rid of the offending stain was to turn his shirt inside out to wear it.

God bless that kid. Jesus.

After some convincing, Glass finally decided to make the walk home to shower and change. We gladly met up with him much later (and thankfully, staph free) at Denny's.

Someone remind me to dedicate a post to nothing but Glass one of these days. I miss that kid. Glass, if you're out there, dammit, send out the signal!

2.) Weezer, "The Sweater Song" - Ah, yes. The Blue Album. D-Rock and E-Money (aka Daria and Erika) performed this in our floor lounge during our Graham 2 Talent Show, I believe. My favorite line was (and still is) "Oh no/it go/it gone/bye-bye (bye!)" What can I say? I am just a simple creature. Glass would also sing this while he was washing all of our dishes in the floor lounge (did I mention he also held the title of "Official Graham 2 Do-Boy"? His mama must've been so proud).

3.) Violent Femmes, "Add It Up"- Yes, technically, this did not come out during that time, but I think that fucking album was one of the things that came with your course catalog, or something. They came and played at Florida Theater with G. Love and Special Sauce as their opening act. That concert fucking rocked. And my friend the free-love slut (something we would only discover much, much later, and much, much too late to salvage any of the boys who fell victim to her advances) caught Brian Ritchie's pick. Fucking whore. I've got nothing more to say about that.

(Oh yeah, there's a Glass story attached to this, too, but I'm saving that one for later.)

4.) Crystal Waters, "100% Pure Love." - So, every night, to keep myself grounded, I would call Patterson to go over our individual day's events. Eventually, I was not only calling to talk to him, but his roommate, who became my best guy friend for a long time. We thought it was funny when we could refer to this song and truthfully say "Hey, it's ten past midnight" when we were on the phone. Yeah, we were silly, but that shit was important to us. Patterson and I are still tight. That other guy? I think he's a doctor somewhere. He stopped talking to just about all of us when he was deep into med school, that fucker. No, I'm not angry.

5.) 12 Gauge, "Dunkie Butt" - There are memorable songs, and there are classics. You know, the ones with lyrics that are burned into your memories forever. "Give me that dunkie butt and them big ol' legs/I ain't too proud to beg," and "Let me ride that dunkie, dunkie" are bound to end up on someone's headstone somewhere. Just like the lyrics to "Imagine." I don't have any good stories to go with this; I just find it ridiculous that out of nowhere, I will find myself singing this at the most inopportune times.

6.) The Cranberries, "Linger" It's always great fun to change the lyrics of songs. Changing lyrics to songs by The 'Berries is no exception. My favorite parodies are singing "A-T-M... A-T-Mmmm, money, money, money-ey-ey!" to "Zombie," and "Did you have to pull my finger? Did you have to? Did you have to? Did you have to pull my finger?" to "Linger." In my addle-pated mind, I always think of that scene in that one episode of My So-Called Life where Angela's mom is talking to her in her room and mentions she likes the song that Angela is playing. All of Graham 2 would get together to watch MSCL for that one glorious season. And for a while, Sarah dated someone that looked like Krakow. That was kind of strange. I almost asked her why she didn't look for a Jordan, but I never did.

However, I'm sure that "Dreams" is playing during that scene. (Yes, I am still an MSCL dork.) Point is, the Cranberries always makes me think of that scene. Just like hearing "Late at Night" by Buffalo Tom makes me think of the scene where Jordan finally holds Angela's hand in public (Sigh.) Oh, Jordan. I just love how he leans.

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"Is that five people?"

More to follow...

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Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Too much sugar.

Yeah, my sugar intake has been ridiculous in the past few days. I guess that's what happens when you decide to bake a cake for J.Love's birthday and you let Danhole pick what kind of cake to have. Yes folks, you guessed it: a rather large heart-shaped cake, one layer yellow, the other triple fudge with chocolate chips, a layer of triple fudge icing, a layer of whipped vanilla icing. With star-shaped rainbow sprinkles. Thank you, Captain Coronary; next time, I'll remember to bring the gallon of milk to wash down my baked homage to Love!

This weekend was very good. On Saturday, I went to Costco w/Perla. This is not necessarily the easiest task in the world (warehouse shopping w/my mother usually results in one of my eyeballs popping out from the frustration), but went surprisingly well this time around. This was actually the first time my mom rode in the new vehicle with just me, and the first time she's really said anything complimentary about the car. I think she just dug the fact that we could fit so much warehouse goodness in the back of the car, especially after flipping the back seats up and to the sides.

She went so nuts buying stuff, that she had me hide the receipt so that Mario wouldn't blow a gasket when he saw how much stuff cost. I don't know why she was so worried; I mean, curmudgeonly parents are so cute, sometimes!

Later on Saturday, after unloading all of the warehouse-priced booty, I made yet another unsuccessful trip to Gator Haven with Danhole (two trips in one week; both ended in denial because we got there after they closed), then we went to Publix to stock up for the evening. Lisa came down from Jax last weekend, so we hung out that evening at Danhole's to celebrate J.Love's birthday a few days late (enter some veggie lasagna and the sugar bomb cake).

Lisa, who can sew like mad, made me this awesome handbag that I may have to post a picture of on here at a later date. I told her she can continue to be on retainer as my personal handbag designer for the duration of my life. And she was nice enough to leave one side of the handbag blank so I could "add any and all patches" I desired. After telling me this, she paused briefly (perhaps internally assessing my patch-sewing skills) and said, "Nah, I'll sew them on for you." What a goddess!

Look for the Lisa G "Kick You In The Head" line of handbags, coming soon!

Whoa, the dog needs to water the plants. Back later.

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Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Random task.

So, continuing on with my random playlist...

This is a breakdown of what's played in the car for the last two days (as far as I can remember):

Into the Void - Nine Inch Nails
Stay the Same - Joey McIntyre
Hero Takes a Fall - The Bangles
Zealots - The Fugees
Sexed Up - Robbie Williams
Somebody's Watching Me - Rockwell
Cricket - Dance Hall Crashers
The Brouhaha - Beastie Boys
Salt Water Fish - Ruby
Climbatize - Prodigy
Moment's Notice - Harry Connick, Jr.
Jane - Ben Folds Five
...This Town - Elvis Costello
Total Eclipse of the Heart - The Dan Band (score!)
All My Best Friends Are Metalheads - Less Than Jake
Rodeo Clowns - Jack Johnson
I Think I Have A Chance With This Guy - Teen Girl Squad (from the "Strongbad Sings" album)

See how fun "Random" is? I had "surprised" face on when half of those songs played. Sixty gigs o'funk fill up fast, I suppose.

Tell me about your own "Fun with Random Play" adventures! Ooh!

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Tuesday, February 21, 2006

"I know I love you, because I hate you."

"Random" on the mp3 player is a fabulous thing. Songs that have no earthly business being played even within the same hour of each other get to color the soundtrack that is my life. They get played and get to know each other in the span of four minutes; much in the way that "Speed Dating" shit is supposed to work.

I used to get yelled at because when it came to mix tapes and cds, I was told I had "no transition whatsoever" between songs, Well, f transition. F transition right in the a. Transition is for sissy-la-las! "That'll put marzipan in your pie plate, Bingo!"

What? Sorry. I'm still semi-recovering from the ludicrous amounts of barbecue consumed yesterday afternoon. A couple of sweet potatoes and plates of the junk, and I'm done.

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Thursday, February 16, 2006

I forgot about the friggin' quiche!

Now, if that doesn't sound quasi-pretentious, I don't know what does.

So, I happened to talk to a lot of stupid people today. The glory of talking on a headset is that your range of colorful hand gestures is almost limitless. And I've gotten quite adept at hitting the "Mute" button. Modern technology is wonderful. Why did I take time off from being a therapist again?

Going to catch some of tonight's episode of Cheaters, since nothin' makes you feel better about your sitch than looking at people in a shittier sitch than you!

(And yes, I said "Sitch." I am in a very Kristy Swanson mood. Leave me alone.)

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Monday, February 13, 2006

Grr. Argh.

It was one of those days today. You know, the one where if a person actually comes up to you with that super-cheery "Looks like someone's got a case of the Mondays!" just like they do in Office Space, you might actually jam out on their face with a rubber mallet (only because we're humane, people. Only because we're humane).

It started off with an e-mail from my boss telling me the article I was supposed to write was due by the end of the day. Now, I don't know about you, but when you have a ton of crap on your desk, and you can't see the end of it, to be given another piece of crap that's supposed to take precedence over the older, more pressing crap... well, you get the point.

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Just like my cube. Except with far less clutter and much more Tetris. And Ron Livingston isn't sitting at my desk, either. And I'd kill to have an Initech page holder for my monitor!

I mean, it's not like anything
important... it's a cheesy company newsletter gig where you spend so many words lying about how your department is totally enthused about all the changes that are happening. But, still, it's just one more thing. And I was volunteered to write it, which makes me all the more motivated.

Too bad I don't have the literary freedom I had with meeting minutes at my last job. I may never have a job where I can write the word "cockmaster" in the minutes with nary a second look again. Sigh.

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Please don't hit him with a hockey stick.

Today's Adam's birthday. Please don't hit him with a hockey stick. Or puck. Or half-full jug of Maker's Mark.

Okay, maybe that last one. But that's all!

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Wednesday, February 08, 2006

www.icantfindmyass.com.

So, some of you may be aware that recently, I've been thinking of acquiring a web domain so I can use it to point to this blog, or whatever. It's been especially present on my mind lately, since there is a promotion to get a domain for only $2.99 a year. I was discussing this with D online this afternoon, as I wanted to not only get a domain for my own site, but to get something started for all the bitches from college (more details on that as our brains stew over the ideas we've already formulated).

After much online discussion, as well as D's impressive use of letters to express broader ideas (i.e. "OMG!! you DIDN'T!!!! HOT CAR!!!! OMG!!!!") we ended up reading the fine print, and realizing that there was the potential to get charged more and more per month than we were first led to believe. That, and you were limited to just one domain name per customer at that price. Bastards.

During the course of our discussion about web domains, we were trying to think of some good names to use; you know, some catchy shit that isn't hard to remember. Whenever we thought we had a chestnut, I'd run it through to see if it was already taken. This sent me into fits of laughter quite a bit.

I mean, you'd chuckle too if you saw a web page that carried the message, "Congratulations! ICantFindMyAss.com is available!" And don't even lie. You would!

So, my quest for my own personal web domain will be put on hold for just a little while longer. But, if you have any ideas as to what my domain name should be, please do send a comment below. I can use all the help I can get, as my creative juices are at the equivalent of creative protein shake mix. (Twice the grit, Patterson!)

Oh, and if you are doing some belated birthday shopping for me, web domains are a popular item these days. I'll give you major props if you happen to get me ICantFindMyAss.com. Because, God knows that's going on my next set of business cards!

Here endeth the shameless plea.

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Stump Time!

Happy Birthday to Sarah, aka my beloved Stumpy, the F***ing Magical Unicorn! She turns just a little older than me today, so I send my well wishes on their way up to Murrells Inlet, SC, home of The Beaver Bar (where the slogan is "Save a Beaver; Blow a Biker," and where I hope to be dancing atop the bar in a few months! Here is a lovely photo, courtesy of Gene Ho, of the Stump and her intended:

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So adorable, I could spew!

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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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Saturday, December 31, 2005

"There's going to be flutes playing..."

"...and trombones and flowers and garlands of fresh... herbs! And we will dance...till the sun rises! And then our children will form a family band! And we will tour the countryside and you won't be invited!"
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"Why don't you go back to your home on Whore Island!"

Sorry, I had to let that out.

Just wanted to wish you all a happy, healthy and prosperous New Year. See you all in 2006!

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Monday, December 26, 2005

Car!

Car! Car! Car! Car! I got a new car! I can say very little else at this point! Car!

Pictures to follow. At some point.

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Thursday, December 15, 2005

I like to call this one "Love on Shore Leave."

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And really, can you blame her? There's nothing wrong with showing our men and women in the Armed Forces your support without sharing bodily fluids! (Am I really even typing this?)

I just re-watched Tuesday night's episode of Last Call with Carson Daly. Why, you ask? Well, because it was a reunion between Love and Carson, which I knew would be Awkward City; but upon the first viewing, it seemed as though Carson was acting particularly snarky and bitter. So, in the spirit of the Holiday Season (insert "Rocker Quotes" here), I decided I would give it another view to see if I wasn't just reading too much into things, as I am certainly, as you know, very pro-J. Love.

Nope. Carson is still a massive tool. The lifelong boycott (temporarily lifted for this trainwreck of an interview) continues. Ask me about it sometime, but be prepared to hear at least a six minute tirade.

I'm going to go watch that Tebow special from The Deuce whilst playing "Rock the Roll" in the background to get rid of this horrible experience.

Don't you worry, though, Love. I'm sure that the Boys have got your back.
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"You guys believe that crap he tried to pull? Let's go kick his ass! Remember, he's the one who looks like Brock Berlin, but more retarded."

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"You know what? You're right. Carson can suck a fat one. I'm so glad I dumped him before a national radio audience!"

Man, I'm losing it. The Deuce, with soundtrack by J.Love, shall now commence. Oh, how I love technology!

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Thursday, December 08, 2005

Old. People. Rule.

So, you know, today is Jaz's and Grantasm's birthday!

Taken during last year's birthday week vacay (my birthday, both of our vacays). Quite possibly the closest either of us will ever get to La Garner La Affleck La Garfleck.

I can only imagine the cacophony of gastric explosions happening at this very moment (Stace, I am oh-so-sorry for your plight. Thankfully, I don't think any Western Whoppers should be involved).

Jaz will be spending the birthday weekend bowling her ass off and avoiding incarceration; a daunting task, to be sure. Since she is not satisfied with the pic that I planned on posting here, I will simply post a picture of what she wants in her someday studio apartment, a la Flashdance:

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It was this, or welding gear. Somehow, this seemed... simpler?

Anyway, best birthday wishes to you both! Expect presents in the mail soon! Or not!

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Sunday, December 04, 2005

Some Oldness.

Happy Birthday to Randal, who celebrates the anniversary of his springing off from his parents today... Undoubtedly, he will spend it celebrating with the cats, the Winstonian, and his incredibly hot wife!
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Randal is one for the book-learnin', so long as it's a really short book. And, I think those are some random stranger's glasses. What can I say? The kid's not always right.

By the way, did I mention that Randy's wife was hot?

Just checkin'.

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Wednesday, November 30, 2005

"I'd give up my pride to save me from being alone."

Oh, no... the above line from the ill-fated hairtastic duo that shall not be named (unless you name them, of course!) can only mean one thing...

A long-awaited rendition of Silent Karaoke: College Nostalgia Edition! (Mind you, Silent Karaoke is a further testament to my inability to transition between either songs or thoughts.)

"She's figured out all her doubts were someone else's point of view. Waking up this time to smash the silence with a brick of self-control... Are you locked up in a world that's been planned out for you? Are you feeling like a social tool without a use?"

"So I wait here for an answer, and wonder if tomorrow will be like yesterday. I keep holding on, but can't go on living this way..." (Sorry, couldn't help that one, either. And yeah, so what if it should technically be in the High School Nostalgia Edition? Leave me alone!).

"I know too many people unhappy in a life from which they'd love to flee. Watching others get everything offered, they're wanton for discovery. Oh my brother, my sister, my mother, you're losing your identity! Can't you see that it's you in the window, shining with intensity?"

Okay, that last one made me want to call Patterson so we could go down to the Graham Cracker and get ourselves some 72-ounce frozen yogurts. Recognize!

Ah, forget it. I'm wiped. I'm going to bed.

And by the way, Willem Dafoe is still scary-lookin'.

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Saturday, November 26, 2005

This is unacceptable.

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Back off, ladies! I called "Dibs" before you got out of your training bras!

Just kidding. Your sign is very clever. Hell, if I were in school right now, I'd probably be sporting something similar.

But, seriously: Back off.

Go Gators!

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Wednesday, November 23, 2005

Mmm. Caramel Cone.

I have no idea why I'm shoveling spoonfuls of this stuff, since I should be keeping Botanicus relatively empty in anticipation of reaching critical mass by tomorrow evening. Boy, I'm a moron.

And I know I said something earlier about continuing the story from my previous post in this one... but as I'm shoveling Caramel Cone in my mouth, I have not the capacity at this point. Sorry. Maybe sometime in the near future, when I'm sure nobody's looking.

Yes, I'm that paranoid. Leave me alone.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

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Tuesday, November 22, 2005

"I'm becoming like everybody else... And I'm strangely elated!"

I can't wait until tomorrow is over. Any three day workweek deserves my excitement and praise. And copious amounts of pumpkin pie.

So, I am really craving bananas right now. Just thought you'd like to know.

Anyway, a couple of weeks ago, whilst I was less-than-enjoying the oniony aftertaste in my strawberry parfait (it was so disgusting, I'm not even kidding), I was also taking in the eye candy.

I was at Beef's with Danhole, the Corporate Warmongerer Formally Known as Francois of Hoggetowne, and Sarah (the one Dan describes as "Jibber Jabber Sarah," due to her impressively rapid and expressive speech patterns), watching the ill-fated game that I refuse to talk about. After that last sentence. So there.

Anyway, as is customary with any Gator game viewing at a local sports bar, attractive men posted up at the bar, and we just happened to have a booth that was not only next to the bar, but near one of the larger teles showing the game. Sarah and I, rather strategically, happened to be sitting on the side of the booth that not only gave us optimal view of the game, but quite a view of the cuter, younger male Gator fans as well. Never mind the fact we had our backs to the crap-ass Annual Bowden Bowl, Sponsored by Depends Undergarments. This was going to be wondrous!

And wondrous it quickly became, as Sarah and I spotted an absolutely pleasant-to-look at gentleman wearing an orange and blue Gators pullover (plus one), khaki shorts (plus two), and Reefs (plus three, at least in my book).

To paraphrase Mr. Herbert the Pervert from FG, it must've been my birthday!

I was going to summarize the next set of events so as to minimize my own humiliation. Somehow, I find I am hard pressed to do so at this very moment. So, I'm going to leave it alone. At least, until tomorrow.

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Thursday, November 17, 2005

Limes are in season.

So, already watched Alias, and am very excited for the next new episode in two weeks, since it'll be...

THE RETURN OF THE LIMEY!

Well, he's not technically a Limey... In fact, I'm not sure what Sark's nationality is supposed to be, but whatever. He's going to do horribly inappropriate things when he comes back to the show. Makes me giggle.

In lieu of posting another picture of David Anders, let me post a picture of an actual, verified Limey:


I know I've posted it before, but it's so cute; he just looks so eager!

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Not enough Creamsicles.

The "family size freezer box" of Creamsicles in the freezer has mysteriously dwindled to near nothingness in the past week. I don't know who to blame, but someone is going down. My money's on Mario; must engage immediate countermeasures.

Wow, can you tell I'm getting ready to watch me some
Alias?

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Thursday, November 10, 2005

Company picnic.

Well, an "Employee Appreciation" picnic, at least. I can't remember ever having a job that had such a thing. Oh, wait, yeah I can; but it sucked, so it doesn't count.

For some reason, I can't stop imagining what the Employee Appreciation Picnic might look like for those folks who have the job listed a couple back...

I spent a good portion of my time during commercial breaks this evening putting iron-on letters on the back of the shirt I'm supposed to wear to this picnic (small price to pay for being able to wear shorts and sneakers to work). I won't go into detail about the almost perfectly straight letters I put on that shirt. Suffice it to say, I didn't find iron-on numbers of "1" and "2" to go with them that were large enough for my liking. Oh well. At least I'll get to throw a football at people's heads tomorrow.

I'm motivated. Let's do this!

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Wednesday, November 09, 2005

"Kisses over catfish and cocktails."

The above, my friends, is a prime example of the artistry the Cheaters team renders on their scripts. Color me impressed. Well, not really.

Today was one of those Office Space days. I have not yet given in to the impulse to bring a drill to disassemble my cubicle walls, but I find it very difficult to hold back on gutting fish on all the correspondence I have to do. I swear, I feel oddly accomplished after finishing a big stack of letters, just to turn around and find five hundred more in their place. Miserable jackals!

Oh, and speaking of "disassemble," remind me to tell you one of these days about the kid I'm going to seriously start calling "Johnny Five." Moving on, then!

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Monday, November 07, 2005

The best job ever?

Yesterday morning, as I was recovering from my old-age meltdown, I spoke to a friend about what they were planning on doing for the day. My friend, who shall remain nameless for the time being (and you'll figure out why), told of a plan to spend the morning landscaping, as a venture out to Lowe's earlier in the morning resulted in the purchase of many plants.

This friend then lamented on how landscaping is quickly becoming a new (and apparently expensive) addiction. We then joked about how at least it's better than sporting a crack habit, and how a landscaping addiction would probably make one have to find supplemental income to support it.

"Sounds like you're going to need to find a second job," I said. "But what kind of job can you get?"

"Well..." (brief pause). "I could get a job holding dicks."

(Crickets chirping in the background)

"Yes. Yes, I guess you could. Good on you!"

Now, you can see why I refrain from putting names here, so as to avoid embarrassing somebody's Mama.

Not my Mama, of course.

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Sunday, November 06, 2005

Recovery.

I am currently recovering from a day of extreme highs and lows, better known as yesterday's Vandy game. The hours leading up to the game were enjoyable and nostalgic, save for the mosquitoes the size of your head that decided to bite me 31 times (I'm not even kidding-- I counted). The game was wondrous and majestic, at least until the whole double-overtime debacle. And even then, it was gloriously nerve-wracking.

All I know is, I'm getting too old for this shit.

I'm hoping to post some pictures and short video clips I shot during the game some point this week. That is, if I can fish through the clips and find the ones where I didn't shake the camera violently in celebration, thus ruining the shot. This could prove difficult.

Before I forget, I must send out mad props to Lil' Pimpin' Jim, who hooked us up with the piping hot pizza that Danforth and I gratefully burped up for the rest of the evening. Next time we're in town, Jim, we're feeding you!

We're just not exactly sure with what, yet.

Anyway, today I started paying for yesterday's tomfoolery. Since I spent most of my tailgating time chucking the football with the entirely wrong throwing mechanics (throwing with too much force and using my entire body in the follow through), and I climbed up that fucking hill from Shands to get to the Swamp, my body hurts. And for some reason, probably because I slept weird or craned my neck oddly, the right side of my neck is stiff and hurts like a bitch. I actually find myself sitting here with a hot water bottle, watching Cold Case and being comforted by Rileybot.

Seriously, I think I'm turning into Murtaugh.






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Wednesday, November 02, 2005

"Where is my bear poop?"

So, Halloween has come and gone, and Riley had a successful trick-or-treat outing. Pictures may follow later this week, if I am so inclined.

Pretty damned good weekend, considering the outcome of Saturday afternoon into the evening. Crazy-ass Tony Hopkins be damned! Oh, and
this may never get old:
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The looks on their faces just says it all, really.

Then, I was treated to an extra hour of sleep that night, and despite waking up to my shoulder absolutely aching, I rolled over, grabbed my cell phone, and was greeted with the lovely news that South Carolina beat Tennessee, in Knoxville, on the day they retired Peyton Manning's number! Viva technology!

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Inscription on plaque: "Danny Wuerffel's picture will be in a place of honor at Neyland Stadium, considering how much he felt at home here during his collegiate football career."

I love those crazy Photoshoppin' goons!

Now, I don't know what to think of those "custom" uniforms that Nike had the boys wear for the game, but I do know I did enjoy the look on Mr. Leak's face throughout:
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Perhaps Chris just got a glimpse of the "Florida Shocks Georgia" sign. Or maybe he's just stoked about scoring a touchdown. Take your pick.

Anyway, all this photo posting is wearing me out. I'm off to catch up on my SVU. Go start a Fortune 500 company Go Gators!

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Sunday, October 23, 2005

That'll learn me!

This will teach me to stop doing research on my possible future car:

Click here to say to yourself, "WTF?"

It's something I came across when doing some background research on any common design problems on my hopefully future car. Makes me want to just go back to updating my Jukebox and pretend the above doesn't exist.

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Saturday, October 22, 2005

"I'd bust some caps!"

The Big Hit is on the tele, and I just tuned in to the part where China Chow's dad in the movie is talking about the "Trace Buster Buster." Not the "Trace Buster Buster Buster," but the "Trace Buster Buster." We haven't gotten into the whole "A Catholic and a Jew?!?!" Lainie Kazan explosion yet. Awesome.

And, despite having one of the best lines ever, I still think Lou Diamond Phillips is a tool.

Anyway, another Friday night has come and gone, and I again find that I didn't do much. Surprising how little you go out and venture when you are constantly broke. Anyway, since I haven't done so in a while, I am going to make some random observations:

  • I am still annoyed at the jackball who has bananaworld.blogspot.com. Would proper English and actual subject matter kill a mofo? I think not.
  • I still, somehow, cannot take Mark Wahlberg seriously.
  • I am probably going to need to own about fifty cars to have all the personalized license plates I or others have come up with. The thing is, not everybody will understand them; but that is entirely cool by me.
  • There is almost nothing funnier than squirrels with lightsabers.
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    "Feel the vibrations!" Sorry, couldn't help it.
Alright, that's it for now. I'm off to bed.

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Friday, October 21, 2005

Incredible wisdom...

"There's about forty people standing around, and they're all waiting for lunch!" -- Jenna Jameson, on what it's like on the set of a porn film.

Speaking of porn and smarts, you should probably call the Jerminator and wish him a Happy Birthday! He gets old like the rest of us today!
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This picture was taken right after Jeremy decided to call his beloved wife "A-Hole." The extreme grin was apparently designed to hide the sheer terror he silently harbored in anticipation of the shellacking he would receive once the rest of us left the house.

I don't know why, but now I want to watch Orgazmo.

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Thursday, October 20, 2005

Rounding the corner.

I think I may have only three or four episodes left, here. Granted, I didn't go on a three-day, three-season Alias bender like Danhole did last year; I took my time, hurried up, and broke it up into three or four episodes a night. But, I find the end is nigh, and I'm starting to wonder if I need to break the seal and head to Ballbuster to see if they've got Season 2 available. Why I bothered buying Season 1, I don't know, considering all that non-money I'm trying to save.

I know I've seen all these episodes before during their original runs, But it was twenty well spent, in my opinion. And I'll just consider it a wash if anyone decides to borrow it. So, feel free to ask.

Although, I do enjoy the "pause" feature quite a bit when Martin gets that "scrappy mischievous agent" look on his face...
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Or when he's just looking pretty.

It's also a hoot whenever he and Sam have that whole "Ooh, sexual tension!" thing going on. Color me doubly amused when they're carrying.
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The So-So White Fed
All-Stars, packin' heat! Two times! What the hell am I saying?!?

Apparently, I have that whole "hot do-gooder" thing going on: Vaughn, Fitzgerald, Stabler. Wonder where that comes from?

There I go, trying to analyze myself again. What's the saying? Isn't it, "You can take the girl out of the therapy profession, but sometimes a cigar is just a cigar"?

No, that's not it.

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Wednesday, October 19, 2005

Well, this is just... wonderful.

So yeah... there's another friggin' hurricane coming our way. Brilliant!
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Remember last year, when we had four headed our way in rapid succession, right around the time I started up the blog? Man, those were times, huh?

Sometimes makes me miss the old job. They at least gave me a couple of days off because of the hurricanes. Oh, wait, that wasn't them; it was the school I visited that had enough sense to not let those crazy little punk bastard delinquents roam the streets during an impending washout. Genius.

Off to continue my Without a Trace: Season One Marathon. I heart Eric Close. And I keep wanting to call Anthony LaPaglia's character "Tony," and I keep half-expecting Brenda Fricker to come from around the corner and try to make out with him. I also keep thinking Debi Mazar is going to show up out of where, since, well, she's always in movies with him, right?
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Debi Mazar's hair is, as always... impressive.

Anyway, on with the show!

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Monday, October 17, 2005

"I am part Dutch. That's how we roll!"

I'm going to punch that kid in the ass, I swear.

So, I am about to go to bed, once I can tear myself away from this self-imposed
Without A Trace marathon. Granted, I've seen all the episodes to date, but you just can't pass up a complete first season collection for twenty bucks. I was so close to getting that and finally buying the first season of Nip/Tuck, but then the fact that I have just paid every damned bill that's due, added to the fervent desire I have to be able to eat for the next two weeks...

Well, you get my idea.

Anyway, I am getting a crick in my neck from simultaneously blogging and watching, so I'm getting back to it. But before I go...

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"Never let go, Jack!"

Sorry, I couldn't help myself.

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Sunday, October 16, 2005

You should have heard it.

Last night, in a fit of post- crappy football psychosis, I decided to audio blog a little, despite (or possibly because of) the fact that my voice was just about gone from screaming for all kinds of reasons at Beef's. I started rambling into the phone at about 1:30 this morning, mostly like I was leaving a really long and obnoxious drunken message on someone's voice mail. Then, I suppose I passed out and hung up (the order of which, I am not really certain).

Point is, I never saved the entry for posting, and it obviously didn't show up
here, and we may never know what fantastical pearls of wisdom I planned to impart on poor Lex (yeah, you were thisclose to having a blog entry -- audio, no less!-- directed solely at you. I can remember shit else, but I do remember that I was trying to tell you something. Now, don't go and get a big head about it).

The funny thing? I wasn't drunk. At all. Haven't had a drop in about a month. I was just fucking exhausted. Apparently, crappy football nights will do that to you. And make you sound like Selma Diamond (RIP) from
Night Court. Sassy!

I also turned down the prospect of $2.50 mimosas this morning. Who the hell does that at a beautiful Sunday morning breakfast with your favorite gays?

What is happening to me?

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Sunday, October 09, 2005

Before I go to bed...

You know that Intel Centrino commercial where the idea is that w/their technology, you have multimedia stuff more readily accessible (read: "in your lap"), and they use guest appearances by celebrities like Lucy Liu and Seal sitting in people's laps to get their point across?

Well, whether you know what the hell I'm talking about or not, one thing is certain: I'd give anything to be that dude who had Michael Owen in his lap. Damn it.

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I want to grace your lap with me bum! Right!

That's it. I'm shutting this damn thing down.

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Friday, October 07, 2005

This is what I get for helping out!

So, Danhole was all mad because his DVR failed to record the Monday night CBS lineup. Of course, this included the viewing of How I Met Your Mother. So, being the nice person that I am, I volunteered to look it up on LimeWire.

This, my friends, is what I got:

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Screw this "being nice" stuff. It's for the birds!

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Wednesday, October 05, 2005

"The cow is an insolent bastard."

Can't believe I'm quoting that movie. Well, it is on cable again this month. Chris Parnell needs a breakout role.

I am clearly delirious.

So, tomorrow (now today) is another "Jeans Day" at work. To think I'd get to the point where I was actually excited, nay, stoked to wear jeans to work, when such a thing was so readily available at the previous employment, just boggles the mind. The bad thing is that you can't wear t-shirts when you wear the jeans. So, I guess I'll have to keep my "Spooning Leads to Forking" t-shirt in the closet for another day. Damn.

Currently thinking of getting a personalized plate if when I get the new car hopefully in December.

(Yeah, I can beat a new trick to death, can't I?)

If you have any ideas for a regular plate (maximum 7 characters) or a UF Plate (maximum 5 characters), let me know, because, as I said earlier...

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I am clearly delirious.

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Tuesday, October 04, 2005

It's time for...

The Quote of the Week Month!

Okay, first one who guesses who said this gem correctly (other than the person that said it, of course), gets a prize. Of some sort. Not really sure what, though. Kind of low on the dough this month.

Here it is, in all its glory:

"The rest of me is just along for the ride, really; It's mainly up to the ass."
All right... Start guessing!

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I hate a multitalented bastard.

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It rankles me to no end. I mean, it's enough to be talented in one area; but to be talented in several, and making it look as easy as a fart after Sonny's Real Pit BBQ, is a wholly different thing.

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Disgusting, talent is.
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Abhorrent.

With that in mind, take a look at Grantasm's artwork. The ruddy bitch!

Click on one of the images to be taken to the Flickr website, where you can download the images in various sizes, suitable for printing and framing.

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Then, after you're done admiring, feel free to kick Grant in the pills when you see him. 'Tis only fair.

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Sunday, October 02, 2005

Riley has a new nickname...

And that, my friends, is "Pumpkin Escobear."

Will catch up with blogging in a little bit. For now, I'm watching the first part of the
Crossing Jordan/Las Vegas crossover. Ah, the sexual tension between Jordan and Danny is so... palpable amusing!

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I think good old Ed Deline is trying to catch a grab. Feisty old bugger!

All right. Back in a bit.

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Saturday, October 01, 2005

For the love of all that is good...

Go see Serenity and look at the pretty people, will you?

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I saw it tonight. This movie kicks my ass. Let it go kick yours.

After all, they aim to misbehave.

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Tuesday, September 27, 2005

"No, I wasn't asleep..."

"I was just taking my time for your pleasure!"

Don't know why, but the way Mr. Cooper said it in Kitchen Confidential just cracks my shit up.

Okay, going to catch up on the rest of the DVR'd stuff now. Back in a couple of months.

Well, maybe less.

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Thursday, September 22, 2005

Damn. It.

Courtesy of the Herald Sun, by way of Trent, I found out that Garbage is breaking up. Crap! Who am I going to for Vitamin C bashing and constant reminders for Billy Corgan to get over himself, not to mention happy tales of Shirley finding ways to pleasure herself in the van on road trips in the early days? I'll tell you who: NOBODY!

"That's right, Lindsey Lohan: you want nothin'! You want nothin'!"

(Sorry. That's just such a damned good movie.)

Oh, it's just so depressing. I need to find some chocolate.

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Wednesday, September 21, 2005

Bachelore.

Yes, I meant to put that last "E" in there. Hear me out.

I just finished watching the season premier of L&O:SVU, and I am almost 100% certain that in the preview for next week's show, I caught a glimpse of something spectacular.

I sat there, thinking, Wait a minute. Is that...

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Our favorite Canadian???

Yes, folks, I do believe that I saw, for a brief, shining moment, Jesse on SVU! Oh, could this be true? A bit part on the way to the big time?

I certainly hope so. This will be good for him, since that whole foosball thing doesn't seem to be working out so well. I guess we'll have to wait until next week!

Of course, I think I have to sit through an hour of Estella Warren trying to look sultry, but that might well be worth it at the prospect of Palmer and Stabler, Hotties-at-Large!

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Stabler, after all, conquers all.

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Monday, September 19, 2005

"Holy crap, here comes Jesus..."

"...and he doesn't look too happy!"

Man, I really love Family Guy.

I'm currently watching a whole buttload of DVR'd season premiere programming, but I though I'd just say that.

Off to watch Prison Break now. Mmm... Jail.

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Wednesday, September 14, 2005

Infidelity and waffles.

It seems that I cannot tear myself away from the strawberry Eggos I've fashioned as a late-night snack long enough to type a substantial post, so I have decided to wolf them down in order to get to business. I am doing the double duty of eating the waffles while trying to block Riley from getting to them, whilst the soothing W.T. tones of Cheaters (now moved to an earlier late-night time slot!) drone on in the background. All the episodes feel the same to me nowadays, but I persist in trying to catch them, in the vain hope I'll actually catch that really screwed-up one Grantasm and I caught a few years back that just trumps all other episodes.

Waffles have been consumed. We can move on now.

I finally got my car back today; Sideshow was nice enough to go get it during his lunch break. It was strange to not drive for the past two and a half weeks. Essentially, I have been carpooling with Perla, and showing up at work an hour early, since she has an earlier shift than I do. Surprisingly enough, the hour difference has wreaked havoc on my sleep schedule, and there is no place for me to catch extra Z's once I show up at the office. This has led to me having an incredibly low tolerance for ignorant people calling for help first thing in my workday. Thank God for the mute button...

Man, I'm all over the place today, and none of those places seems like a good place to stop. Maybe I'll just go to bed.

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A hint of cupcakes.

Wow. "Kentwood, Louisiana's Gift to the World" (per Matt Lauer, of course) has officially sprung off.

This, coming on the heels of a quite unholy self-discovery, is almost too much for me to bear.

One thing's for sure: that dirtbag husband of hers better get to being useful, and quick. And he needs a haircut!

Gah, just click here to view a related spectacle. Before you get all crazy, don't worry: it's not the birth, just something else. Dear Lord. I need to go have dinner. And be away.

Very, very away.

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Tuesday, September 13, 2005

A late-evening conversation.

The following conversation just happened about five minutes ago.

There (groggily): Uh... hello?
Here: Oh, hey. You were sleeping?
There: Yeah. 'Sokay. What's up?
Here: Nothing. Just wanted to say hey. Forgot you were going to bed so early.
There: Nah, I just have to get up early. (Sounding concerned) Is everything okay?
Here: Yeah. Go to bed.
There: Are you sure?
Here (more emphatically): Yes! Go to bed! I will tell you my theories at a later date.
There: Theories? What theories? What about?
Here (thinking quickly): Um... procreation?
There: Agh... Don't do it.
Here: Okay, I won't. Bye.

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Thursday, September 01, 2005

Dag.

This is what I get when I decide to check out other people's blogs before going to bed:



However, I don't know why this startled me in the least.

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Finicky.

Some of you may have noticed that I've been on the Blog a lot in the past few days. You may have also noticed I've changed the template five thousand times.

I really liked the last one I had up before this one. Unfortunately, the image that went on the bottom left corner of the page was hosted on another site, and that site is going all wonky right now, denying you the pleasure of viewing what might be the most adorable rendering of the Grim Reaper I've seen in a dog's age. So, that prompted me to do some tweaking, and for now, this is what you're going to get.

Again, if anyone wants to take on the the task of designing a workable and kickass template, I'm all ears. Woo me.

So, we got a new guy at work this week. This has made me the "new girl" no longer; I am simply "the girl who used to be new, but is now just dumb as hell because she's still asking a thousand questions after doing this job for over a month."

It's a place of honor, really.

Anyway, when I found out we were getting another person on our team, and it was a guy, of course, my interest was peaked. Gotta fit that single, late 20's female stereotype, you know.

Oh, God. "Late twenties." I'm going to pretend that didn't just happen.

New guy walked in the other day. Had to be in his late 40's to early 50's. Wore a suit with a blue-green t-shirt. How very "Sonny, Sonny Crockett, King of Miami Vice!" of him.

Ah, yes. Just as Brenda is two-for-two in predicting my employment, I am three-for-three in getting into jobs lacking viable male suitors. Insert image of me shaking my fist at the sky here.

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Wednesday, August 31, 2005

The Help-A-Surly-Asian Foundation.

That is the name of the organization I'm going to start. I came up with the idea sometime late this morning, after the "Service Engine Soon" light came on in my car on the way to work. During his lunch, Sideshow was nice enough to take it to AutoZone to find out what might be wrong with it. Best they could tell, there's a problem with Xander's transmission.

Fahk.

So, this car repair thing is becoming more and more frequent lately, to the point that I feel like I'm throwing money at my car to just keep it running. And we all know how joyful transmission troubles are. On the way home today, every time I tried to accelerate, I felt like I was rolling in neutral. Sigh.

Long story short, there was mention made of shopping around for a new car. I detest the idea, but realize at the same time, it is eventually going to become very necessary, despite my lack of funds. Hence, I am starting the aforementioned fundraising effort, which you may simply call "The Surly Asian Foundation."

Of course, I complain here, but I am really not complaining about it. After all, things that have been happening in the past few years, even the past few days, that are constant reminders that no matter what happens, I've still been incredibly blessed. In other words, I'll get over it soon enough.

So, if you want to contribute to The Surly Asian Foundation, you may do so in the best way possible by volunteering or contributing to the helping organization of your choice.

I'm going to go and try to stop being a whiny asshole now.

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Tuesday, August 30, 2005

Post-It Transcription #01.

From a grand total of six Post-Its, at various points in my workday. Mind you, these are the slightly larger, rectangular Post-Its, better suited for my incessant rambling than the standard square ones.

Post-It #1:

I think I'm going to start blogging like this when I'm at work and can't get on the Net. I'll just scan them when I get home. Too difficult to read camera phone pictures.

Now that I've moved to my own cubicle island, things are going swimmingly. My previous location had me at the end of a row of four cubicles with low walls that allowed everyone to peer over at each other, which gave me little comfort as I was surrounded by weirdo oldsters (normal oldsters, on the other hand, kick total ass). Also, I was in a corner with two large windows, giving that warm, incubator feel, which I utterly detest. And chocolate melts way too quickly on that side of the office. But, that's beside the point.

Post-It #2:
Add the heat of the moment corner to being surrounded by Granola Cruncher, Ridiculous Southern Drawl (as opposed to Endearing Southern Drawl, a distant cousin), and Cap'n Asshat and his horridly cloying cologne...

Oh, what's that smell? Smells like LATE MID-LIFE CRISIS!

Sorry about that...

And you have what I like to call Cubicle Purgatory.
BTW, if you want to know more about Cap'n Asshat, sign up for the seminar. I waste entirely too much energy venting about that turd burglar, and I'm not about to devote a whole blog entry to him.

Post-It #3:
Now that I'm on my cubicle island at the opposite end of the office, the temperature is much better, and I have a higher cubicle wall on the side of my cube that faces others, preventing unnecessary eye contact with people I don't want to look at. The only thing I'm going to need to do is install a mirror in my cube. My back is to the door now, and it makes me feel very Martin Blank, if you do get my meaning.

People here think I'm weird, and more than once they've said that I'm just like my brother. I don't get that at all. I wear way more skirts than he does.

Post-It #4:
I am forever on the quest for a satisfying (and cost-free) template for the B World Blog. Of course, the one you are viewing now is cute as hell (ha!), but you know how I am about these things. I mean, how many times did I rearrange my furniture in college? Come on.

So, if you know anyone willing to do pro bono web design grunt work, let me know.

Word of the day: longshoreman.

Post-It #5:
I've got an hour to go... Work with me, people!

Haven't listened to Mr. Johnson in three days. Perhaps this is why there's so much tension in my shoulders and neck.

This last hour is always the toughest. The pace slows considerably, and the office gets quiet, and there are only three of us left for the last hour of operations. I always feel like I need more caffeine to get through the hour. Every afternoon for the past two weeks, I've taken to levitating Gobstoppers to kill time, like I did in high school. Viva Corporate America!
Editor's Note: The last line would've looked much better as it appears on the Post-It, as I am unable to produce an upside-down exclamation point the way it should be at the beginning of the sentence.

Post-It #6:

You know what? I think I'm finally getting used to signing my name without my credentials after it. I don't know quite how to feel about that.

-- My signature here --
Not for individual sale.

It's 5:30. I'm going, gone.

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Pointless.

So, I was wondering how I would be able to capture the precious moments that happen away from the computer, such as the ones that occur during work or elsewhere. I tried to do the mobile blogging thing w/the cell phone, but for some reason, when I send those blog entries in, the punctuation marks don't seem to translate very well (ampersands and colons all over the place, like a very gory grammar horror movie).

So, as I sat there in my little cubby today, I decided I would jot down bloggeries on Post-Its and scan them when I got home. Then, I'd post the scans on the blog. I thought it would be neat to see the "raw feed" of all the bullshit that comes out of my head.

That's what I did. When I got home, I hunkered down at the desktop and scanned away. Little did I realize that today was not a day for patience in scanning, resizing for the web, and getting the image to look right at a reasonable file size. I also discovered that this was not a day for trying to find another blog template to jazz up the blog. Fahk. I gave up after my eyes started hurting from trying to manipulate the image. Coincidentally, this happened at about the same time I got hungry, so it worked out in the end.

So, yeah, no Post-It scans today. You never know: I might be inclined to do them at a future date. But, the original Post-Its are sitting here sadly, waiting to be eaten by the dog, so I suppose I should just transcribe them.

Okay, I'll get right to that. Later.

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Monday, August 29, 2005

Another one from the job...

"The United Way... We're all about surly little white children!"

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Saturday, August 27, 2005

A Picture Share!

One of the funniest things I've ever seen.

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"Frames can't catch you when you're moving like that."

So, this is my official day to relax. Working forty hours in five days as opposed to ungodly hours in four seems to be a better pace for me, but it certainly makes me appreciate those precious two days of weekend. I had great plans for today, like running errands and taking a long walk in the park with Riley. I was going to keep busy. Silly me.

I got some things done, like going to the library, fueling up the car, and grabbing lunch, but the rain started soon after that, and I hence lost all motivation to do anything else. The rain drove me back home, and here I sat for a few moments, with the dangerous prospect of having nothing but time.

For the past few days, I've wrestled with a lot of past-present-future stuff, not helped along at all with the far-reaching tentacles that Googling permits. If nothing else, the Googling just added some ridiculously overpriced petrol to my nostalgic inferno. To make a long story short and save myself from further embarrassment, suffice it to say that Googling combined with free long distance can be a noxious pair. This did not bode well for my "nothing to do" state, since it gave me something (albeit a something quite dangerous to my waning sense of closure, but a "something" nonetheless) to do.

Thank goodness for an empty house and a voice mailbox that is so full of messages that it won't stand to take anymore.

I'd better stop babbling. This is making even less sense to me as I read it, and I supposedly know what the hell I'm talking about.

Right at this moment, I'm sitting on the couch with nothing but Riley fighting for lap space with the computer and Mr. Johnson filling up all that unnecessary silence. I've also got a blog entry that less than makes sense to anyone else. And that's fine with me.

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Thursday, August 25, 2005

Hey...Want to see something funny?

At a later date, I will go all apeshit about the dangers of Googling. For now, suffice it to say that said Googling lead me to an extraordinary find: my old website.

Yes, my Fortune City free site from the grad school years. Horror of horrors! Want to see it? Click here.

Surprisingly enough, the level of suck then isn't that much different from now. Hmm.





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Wednesday, August 10, 2005

Sleep rules.

Yes, I realize I haven't posted in a month. I've gotten some complaints. It's okay, since there really wasn't a lot of yelling. I will be on here again soon... It's just that since I get home at a reasonable hour from work now, I tend to want to just loaf with the Riles and watch as much Elliot Stabler as the law allows (and a little that it doesn't). So, now, I'm going to go do just that. Toodles.

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