Friday, May 28, 2004


i had planned on goofing off a bit today. and writing a lot of blog posts.

because its friday.

::happy snoopy dance::

and because i've got a few blog post ideas floating around in my head, screaming to be let out of their cages. on that same note, i've also got a few story ideas screaming to be let out of their cages. hanging from the bars. going ape-shit all over the place. some people get plot bunnies. i get plot monkeys. i'm going to release those later today after work. i'm going to sit at one of the little tables at Borders and pretend to be Cool Coffee Drinking Writer Chick. i'll buy some coffee and drink it, and pull out pen and paper scribble words down, and will end up achieving four out of the five. which ain't all that bad i guess.

the other ideas, the blog post ideas, i'll have to get to some other day because i've been busy here at work. and i thought today was going to be a slack day. ::big eye roll::

Mr. BigBossMan, he calls me and asks for some info. i look it up, give him the number, and he says, "great. thanks. could you call the guy i was just talking to and give him that number because i've got to go take a two hour lunch now and can't be bothered to call back and this is a good opportunity to make you think that you're important by giving you what you should think of as an important task thereby clouding the real reason i'm making you do this. which is that i'm a dumb ass. thanks. you're awesome." that's not much of a compliment, because he tells EVERYONE they're awesome. repeatedly.

doesn't take away though from my truly supreme innate awesomeness.

while i don't have time for much office goofing, i do have time to whip up a little picture present for my bbbf, zoink. happy birthday chica! and yes, i swear there's a better present along the way. :)

Monday, May 24, 2004

my leg muscules can be very grumpy in the morning

my muscles hurt. a lot of the leg ones. and a few of the arm ones. all because i helped a friend move into her new apartment yesterday. now, i'm not blaming the friend for my soreness, because i knew the risks before i accepted the mission. plus, i was rewarded greatly with pizza and beer. (really good beer that i'd never tried before. i wonder if it tastes as good if you drink it without the whole exercising/heavy lifting thing a few hours before.)

and i'm not blaming it on a lack of muscle in-shape-ness on my part (because that would just be silly). no, i'm blaming it on those damn birds that screeched and squaked and screeched outside my window at the ungodly hour of 8 o'clock in the morning. on a weekday for crying out loud! i don't mind moving boxes on a weekday, i just want to be able to sleep in first. sheesh. stupid birds.

since the weather was really nice, the HB and i left the windows open saturday night when we went to bed. the downside to that is that everything that happens within a few feet of our apartment bedroom window is amplified a gabillion-fold. honestly. this is not an exaggeration.

so the bird screeching was really annoying. and it didn't stop there. the screeching birds followed me to my friend's house. and camped outside on the telephone poles and squaked some more. bastards.

they left after awhile and we were able to, in peace and quiet, haul boxes from the u-haul, carry them up a flight of stairs, and into the new digs. i don't know how, but i'm sure their screeching made my leg muscles all crampy. and then all that treking up and down the stairs made it worse. so that this morning, as i stumbled out of bed on my way to the peepee room, my leg muscles were forced to yell, 'hey, what the hell are you doing using us? go back to bed!'

i'm not badly sore. just enough sore to make me feel bitchy. and its always good to have an excuse for the bitchiness. :)

Sunday, May 23, 2004

i'm ready for my straight jacket fitting mr. demille

Last night I had The. Weirdest. Fucking. Dream. EVER.


As I was remembering the dream this morning, as I woke up and went about my day, I had the strangest sense of deja vu, as if I'd had the dream before. At least part of it anyway. I think the monster in both dreams (or has there been more than two) was the same, but every other element to the dream was different this time.

And boy was this dream different.

I was with a group of people. And we were hunting a monster. The first part of the dream that I actually remember had me and the group standing outside the mouth of a cave. Someone was saying that we needed a camera. Two cameras had been damaged already, which meant we only had two cameras left. Video camcorders actually. The guy asked for someone with a camcorder and a girl made her way through the crowd, all excited like, with a camcorder resting on her shoulder. It wasn't her camera, it belonged to the guy standing next to me, but she was really excited about using the camera, so he let her go into the cave with it.

Which wasn't a nice move, considering that was were the monster was.

For the mouth of the cave, picture the hole that the aliens in Pitch Black made when they killed Zeke. Only bigger. But about that bloody.

So the girl is in the cave, and she's got the camcorder on one shoulder and a big ass flashlight is being held up with the opposite hand. And she's looking around, trying to find some trace of the monster. She doesn't see anything, nothing on the floor in front of her, then she sweeps the light and the camcorder to the right. That's where she sees the pile of bloody body parts.

If this dream were a movie, it would be considered a horror movie, what with all the blood and guts and body parts inside the cave.

But it wasn't a nightmare I was having. Far from it actually. I didn't picture the body parts up close. I wasn't horrified by the site. Just sort of icked out.

I don't know whether the dream jumped a few scenes (as dreams tend to do) or I just forgot a chunk. Either way, the next thing I remember is being inside the cave with a few other people. Smart being in the cave, I know. I can't remember anymore what we were doing, but we were doing something, and that's were I got my flash of inspiration. I finally knew how to beat the monster that had eluded us for so long!

And this is were it gets totally frelling weird.

Next thing I know I'm in a bathroom. In a house somewhere I think. And I'm peeing. And out comes a little lego man. Yep. That's right. The solution to the problem was in me peeing out a lego man.

What the fuck?

And it wasn't just any ol' lego man. It was magical. And it had this sort of yellow glow to it. It wasn't a regular yellow lego color. No sir-ee. It was magical yellow.

In the dream, this isn't weird at all. I'm ecstatic! I've solved it! I call everyone up and tell them what we need to do to beat the monster. I told them all to pee out lego men!

Scene jumps back to just inside the mouth of the monster cave. And guess who's there. Patrick 'Captain Jean-Luc Picard' Stewart. Talk about star power!!! He was standing next to me, and we both had our little lego men with us. Then Patrick's hand did this really weird thing, and looked really monster-ific with long nails and stuff (kind of a la that star trek: tng episode where he stuck his hand in a space/time distortion pocket).

Don't remember what became of that. But he was fine. And then the next thing I remember is we had on this armor. Lego armor. Like we somehow transformed the little lego plastic body into body armor. Plastic armor. But hey, it all made sense in the dream, and it worked, so whatever.

Me and Patrick, we came up with a battle plan. We were going to attack the monster on both sides. I was going to attack from the front, and Patrick was going to attack from the rear. See, the problem with the monster is that it was hard to sneak up on him. He was tricky. So we had to distract him. That's where the three guys with uzi's came in. Oh yeah. In my dream I had star power and fire power. Go me! They were going to shoot at the monster while me and Patrick Steward attacked.

I don't remember if we won or not. I kind of remember the two of us running at the monster and jumping on him. After that I don't remember anything. But I'm sure we won. Because it would suck to loose in my own dream.

Another weird part (but not nearly as weird as the whole peeing legos thing) was that besides Patrick Steward, I had another celebrity star in my dreams. Peter Jackson. The LOTR director.

My dream was like a movie, jumping between two different story lines. One was the monster cave/bathroom part, the other was a restaurant part. And the dream jumped between the two. For a more dramatic effect as the final battle scene was delayed? Who knows.

Peter Jackson was in the restaurant part. He was a waiter. And the restaurant was a fancy one. Peter had a little pushcart, and he was stopped at one table while he poured ranch from a Tupperware container into a fancy silver serving bowl. And I think cameras were there filming him, and there was a reporter there talking about how Peter used to work as a farmer. Kind of implying 'before he became a super celeb he was a poor shmoe like you and me.' Though why he was a waiter in my dream I have no freaking clue.

I think he was the guy who asked if anyone was willing to go in and film the monster. I think that was him, because I'm pretty sure he was in that cave/monster part of the dream, and him being in that role makes the most sense. But maybe he was just the waiter.

Patrick Stewart. Peter Jackson. Monsters. Magical Pee Lego Armor.

Should I be worried? :)

I'm going to go figure out what I ate before I fell asleep. Because I want to have the dream again tonight. Only this time, I want to find out if me and Patrick kick monster butt or not.

I say ... and you think ... ?

  1. Finale:: ending
  2. Martial arts:: "every body was kung fu fighting..."
  3. Flirt:: girl
  4. Energy:: bars
  5. Flavor:: ice cream
  6. Guess?:: pink european llamas. am i wrong? damn. do i at least get another guess?
  7. Accomplishment:: success
  8. Prom:: i swear i thought this said porn at first. my brain needs to be scrubbed.
  9. Diploma:: something i still don't have
  10. Bloody:: hell

Friday, May 21, 2004

Pitiful Ponderings

I was pondering earlier today. (Don't worry. I've recovered.) I was walking out of a store a few hours ago when a phrase popped into my head: No rest for the weary. Then I began to wonder, or is it 'no rest for the wicked'?

Both sounded right. And both are right, I guess (though which came first I have no idea.) But at the time, while I was walking out of the store, it boggled the mind. Which 'W' word is right?

My mind was boggled mainly because I really had to pee. Which can be distracting. The I've-Got-To-Pee brain signal was very strong, blocking the And-The-Correct-Answer-Is-This-You-Moron brain signal. So, to distract myself from the fact that I had to pee, and was nowhere near a decent restroom, I began to ponder about the two phrases.

* No rest for the weary.

Is the point of this saying to let us know that the weary don't get any rest? Well duh. If they got rest they wouldn't be weary now would they? I don't need this pointed out to me.

Or maybe it means the weary don't deserve rest. They're not allowed to have it for some reason. Kind of like there's a Rest Nazi (a la Seinfeld's Soup Nazi) out there deciding who gets rest and who doesn't. And the weary are the unlucky few who aren't good enough. "No rest for you!"

* No rest for the wicked.

Are the wicked too busy doing wicked things to bother with rest? Is that the point of this saying? Maybe if they rested they wouldn't be wicked any more. Like resting is something The Squares do. Not the Bad Ass Wicked Crew. Nu uh. They don't rest. They're non stop wicked machines!

* No rest for the weary wicked.

Now, I've never heard this saying before, but what about the weary wicked? Don't they deserve their own saying? I bet the weary wicked are wicked weary. They probably don't have time to rest, they're so busy doing things like bunny smothering, puppy bon firing, performing intensive scar producing wedgie maneuvers, leaving freshly chewed gum on the sidewalk/pavement for unsuspecting innocent bystanders to step in... etc., etc., etc.


You know what? I had more thoughts on the subject than this. Better thoughts. But the better thoughts didn't stick in my head long enough for me to get to a computer and type them out. All the good, intelligent, insightful thoughts were like post-it notes, and my mind was like a really uneven, wet surface. Those poor thoughts never stood a chance.

Which is a shame, really. They were pretty good thoughts.

So in the end, all I'm left with is the crap. Oh well, such is life.

Why do you suppose the crappy ones stuck? Do they come with extra sticky backs? That must be it. I bet they're overcompensating for their suckiness with stickiness. Heh.

Thursday, May 20, 2004

S. H. I. T.

So Happy It's Thursday

And I'm so happy it's almost time for me to go home! Woo!

Actually it's not. I've still got a couple hours. :(

But that won't stop me from happy banana dancing and singing about bananular phones.

Because seriously, I can't get that song out of my head. My brain prefers to keep it in constant loopage. I'll be typing away, doing my masterfully typing thing, and all of a sudden I'll be consumed with the desire to burst out in song. Consumed I tell you! All's quiet on the office front... and then all of a sudden I'm singing out loud. "Ring ring ring ring ring ring banana phone!"

It's a wee bit embarrassing. Because people look at you funny when you do things like that.

I, of course, being the bad ass that I am, gave those people the patent 'I'm Gonna Kick Your Ass If You Keep Lookin At Me Like That' look (that I named Blue Steel) and they all cowered and apologized and showered me in compliments. Naturally. But between their funny looks and my Ass Kicking Beat Down Stare O' Death® there was a bit of awkwardness in the air. And that's never good to have in the work place. So I need to stop listening to the banana phone song.

First, though, I think I need to find me a banana phone song patch, so that I may slowly wean myself off from its silly goodness.

Okay. Enough dancing for now. Time to go be Computer Guru Goddess Supreme®.

Tuesday, May 18, 2004

banana phone

its really hectic here at work. i mean, they've got me actually calling people and talking with them and stuff. ack! i have this thing about phones. and communicating with people. i'm just not good at it.

i don't want to have to call vendors and get information from them. but i have to. and i'm dealing with it quite marvelously, thanks for asking. its a strange phone phobia i have. i just really dislike talking to people over the phone. i don't know why, i sound like just as much of an idiot over the phone as i do in person...

talking to my friends i don't mind. because they're cool. but other people, strangers, i really don't want to converse with over the phone. i think i have a phone trauma from my childhood i'm suppressing. i'd explain, but well, i have to make a phone call. and i have to prep myself for it.

its crazy busy here now that one of my office mates is out, recovering from surgery. me and the other office guy are having to pick up the slack. and its a lot of slack to be picking up. bleagh. leaves me little time to goof off! unfortunately, at work, the reading and writing of blogs falls under the heading of Goof Off Time. oh the injustice of it all!

i do have time to listen to this song about a banana phone though. i found it at Lee's site. so thank you Lee. because this is, like, the greatest song EVER. i'm listening to it so much, i find myself giggling at random moments. for no reason. and all the giggling is making me think i'm suddenly funny.

someone in the office asked, "when are we going to do line 9?" and i chimed in with my best (which is a notch above horrible) Groucho Marx voice, "who's line 9 and does she have a sister?!" then i was consumed with uncontrollable giggling for several minutes.

oh lordy help me.

Monday, May 17, 2004

some 'thank you's are in order

I'd like to thank the makers of the new movie Troy for believing that Achilles slept in the nude. I'd like to thank them for incorporating this into the film. More than once. I'd like to thank whoever is responsible for making that 41 year old body look so damn good. I'd like to thank the makers of DVD and the rewind button and the pause button. Because even though this one scene (featuring side view of yummy naked Brad Pitt thigh and butt) will forever be burned in my memory, I think I'll need to re-watch that scene a few times. Because oh yes, I will be buying that movie when it comes out.

Actually, I don't think I'll need to buy it. The HB liked it enough that he'll probably buy it as soon as it comes out. Because he liked all the fighting and blood and manly stuff like that. Not because Eric Bana and Orlando Bloom look so good in their Sparta skirts and robes. Heh. :)

On the drive home from the theater we were talking about the movie and the HB says, "They made Brad Pitt look good."

And my initial thought was, "Hell yeah he looked good."

But I refrained from commenting. And the HB continued on about how they made Brad Pitt look like such a great fighter. Oh. Made him look like a good fighter. Yes. Most definitely. Uh huh.

So, uh... yeah. Good movie. ::thumbs up:: :)

Friday, May 14, 2004

something else frustrating to note

how is it that i eat the EXACT SAME THING as the boyfriend and i get WAY more sick than he does? is that fair?

i think not!

he wakes up in the middle of the night with massive stomach cramps, goes to the potty room and poos it all out. then he gets back in bed and he's fine.

me? i wake up, go to the potty room and upchuck the Evil Pastrami. then for the rest of the day i'm stuck battling a fever and headache and full body chills and aches and massive stomach ickiness. i'm over it by the following day, but my stomach aches and headaches are still there the next day. and my pooing has been all out of whack for the whole week.


is that fair? is that fucking fair???

and he's the one who picked the damn restaurant. the HB soooooooo owes me one. :)

week of suck draws to a close

I just finished writing up a 'my version of events' of something that happened this morning. And since I really didn't see anything my version was very short. Had to email it to the boss for record keeping. Fun stuff.

Turns out this trouble maker, let's call him Trouble Making Fuck Head, no wait... that's too long... let's call him Chad. Turns out that 'Chad' is up to his old tricks.

You see, there was a meeting this morning at 5:30. That's right. 5:30 IN THE FREAKING MORNING! Which meant I had to come in a half hour early. I almost missed it, because I forgot to set an alarm last night. Because I fell asleep early (my body's still tired from being sicky-poo and all). But I still managed to wake up around the time I normally wake up, so I jumped out of bed and rushed around like a chicken with its head in an electrical outlet, got dressed, got the armpits deodorized and the teeth toothpasted and rinsed and the hair brushed and the pants zipped before dashing out the door. Let me tell you, anxious mad morning dashing is not a good thing to do when your stomach has been a big ball of cramps all week. Poor tummy wummy.

So anyways, waking up a few minutes earlier than normal, and mad dashing, helped me get to work a half hour early. So I got to the meeting on time. Go me! And the damn thing lasted about fifteen minutes. If that. I don't know why I had to be there. But whatever. It just means I get to leave early today. Like in a few minutes. woot!

So anyways... meeting was boring. There was about 8 of us in the little conference room. One guy read some safety procedure to the group while the group tried not to fall asleep. Then we signed the paper saying we'd paid attention and knew how to behave safely. The head guy talked for about another few minutes, and the old guy next to me, I'll call him 'Stu', was getting antsy to leave. He kept telling me to leave, so that he could leave. He'd jerk his head toward the door, trying to egg me on. But I wasn't ready to start work yet. So I just looked at 'Stu' and gave him a big cheesy grin. So 'Stu', having to take matters into his own hands, stood up as soon as the head guy stopped talking. No more talking, no more meeting, stand up before someone asks a question. Good way to go about dinky little meetings like this.

So Stu stands up from the table, and so does Chad, who was sitting behind Stu, away from table. I guess Chad is anti social like that. Anyway, the meeting was over and there was some good-natured ribbing going on. Stu said something (if I could remember anything specific that was said, I'd type it, because it might be amusing, but I can't remember it all too well and it would take too long to explain the little bit that I do) as he walked out the door and everyone chuckled. Then someone else said something else and everyone chuckled. That's all that I noticed, because that's when someone stood up right in front of me and blocked my path to the door. Moron.

What I heard happened next was that Chad, who was walking out the door, made a snide comment about Stu, who was right behind him. Chad is claiming that Stu then pushed him into the doorway. Or the wall outside or something. And now his back is hurt again.

One HigherUpThanMe and Mr. BigBossMan asked me this and I said that I saw nothing, heard nothing. Because it's a ridiculous claim! How does this guy think he can get away with it? There were people in the room. Even if no one was looking directly at them, we would have seen it in our peripheral vision. Mr. BigBossMan wasn't happy with Chad's description of what happened, because he kept changing his mind about things. And when Mr. BigBossMan tried to clarify Chad's statement, Chad got all defensive. Mr. BigBossMan said to me that he thought Chad was trying to use it as an excuse to get a nice long summer vacation.

I have this creepy feeling that Chad will get away with it. I HIGHLY doubt anyone will corroborate his statement. Mr. BigBossMan doesn't think its credible. And yet I bet Chad is crafty enough and clever enough to worm his way around things and get the time off. And there's nothing this company can do about it. And if there is, they're too stupid to do anything, so nothing will get done. It's just so frustrating.

Wednesday, May 12, 2004

week of suck

being attacked by the evil monster known as Food Poisoning sucks. big time. i was attacked late sunday night and i'm still aching.

::blows slobbering raspberries at big evil Food Poisoning monster::

Friday, May 07, 2004

T. G. I. F.

these bananas are gonna have fun tonight. because these bananas are going to Wang Chung! they don't know what that means exactly, but that won't stop them. because they are the amazing dancing bananas!

i so do not get tired of see the little dancing banana dude.

he makes me smile. and its friday. another perfectly a good reason to smile. because things that start with the letter F make me smile. family. friends. fozzie. frosted flakes. flowers. faeries. fiesty farts. fuzzies. french fries. formica. fangles. futurama. flamethrowers. farscape. franks. faux-tards. florescent fish from florida... etc, etc, etc.

Thursday, May 06, 2004

i'd like to introduce you to my blog's new answering machine

hi. i can't come to the blog right now because i'm busy racking my brain marbles (thanks to nef and his damn links) trying to figure out where i've seen this red and white striped hot air balloon fast food logo thingy. (i know i've seen it somewhere before dammit! ... but i just can't place it.) so after the beep, please leave your name and a brief message and i'll get back to you as soon as i can. thanks.


Tuesday, May 04, 2004

10 on Tuesday

I've done a few of these 'things people don't know about you' lists before, and for some reason felt compelled to do another one (because I like to talk about ME! it's all about ME!) so I tried to come up with all new answers. Hopefully I succeeded.

Ten Things We Probably Don't Know About You

I love reading old paperback novels. The smell, the delicate feel of the ageing paper... just gives me warm fuzzies inside. Don't know why. The book I'm reading right now (until I go to the store after work today and pick up the new Charlaine Harris) is an oldie, published back in 1953. Do you know how much money it sold for? 75 cents. That's right, the book cost LESS THAN A DOLLAR! Nowadays they cost about 7 dollars!

Last night I watched the japanese and French trailers for the new Harry Potter movie. I watched each one several times in fact. ::blushes:: But hey, these trailers have new footage! New footage! :)

The first time I remember using a Mac I didn't like it. At all. I was in a seventh grade computer class and thought the computers was dumb. Mainly because they were different than the ones I were used to at home. Then I took an art class in college. In that class I got to play around with photoshop, on a Mac of course. And I fell in love.

It was a brief affair though, because I wasn't willing to give up my PC and run away with the Mac. Mainly because of money issues, 'cause I had a working computer so why get another one when you can't afford it and all that rubbish, but still... I still have warm gooey flashbacks of that Mac and its drawing software.

When I was 5 years old I broke the towel rack in the bathroom I shared with my brother. I quickly put it back to make it look like it was still attached to the wall. Then I talked my brother (who was either 2 or 3 years old at the time) into hanging from it. He did, and of course it broke off the wall. I pretended to be shocked. He thought he broke it, and so did my parents. And I said nothing to the contrary. I was a bad sister then. But in my defense I'd like to remind the court that I was only FIVE years old at the time.

And my brother has certainly made up for it since, without even knowing it, several times over. Like the time he stole my special dinosaur stickers and stuck them all over his dresser. Oh how I mourned the loss of my cute little dinosaur stickers!

I am a lover of t-shirts. Big time lover. They are my favorite article of clothing (mainly because I have yet to find a Wonder Woman bra/panty set in my size). When I'm finally working at my Ultimate Dream Job I'll be allowed to wear t-shirts if I want to. Because that will be one of the reasons that makes it Ultimate. The Snack Studs (hunky studly men who are on staff for the sole purpose of bringing me snacks and refilling my soda cup) will have the option of wearing t-shirts as well. They will also have the option of NOT wearing t-shirts, i.e. going shirtless. Because I'm talking ult here people!

You know how when you're little, or even not so little, and your parents do something you think is mean, or totally unfair, and you make a solemn vow to never be like that when you grow up with your own kids.

"I won't ever make my kids eat icky mushy peas if they don't want to!"

You know, that sort of thing? Well, one of my favorite all time favorite t-shirts had Spot (the 7-up red dot logo with the cool shades) on it. I loved that shirt, and wore it until it got holes in it. I wore it after it got holes in it. Because the holes made it that much more awesome. That shirt was loved like a one-eyed teddy bear coming apart at the seams.

Then one day the Spot shirt disappeared. I later found out that my mom had thrown it away. Just because it had a little hole in it. Mean mommy! I vowed then and there that when I grew up I wouldn't throw my children's favorite t-shirts away just because they had holes in them.

Now that I am older and wiser I realize that it's possible I might change my mind on this subject, once I actually have children. But then again, I might not. Because I still know the value of a good t-shirt. :)

When I was younger (elementary school-ish I think) I took my little Mc Donald's sand castle building bucket and filled it up with backyard dirt. Then I planted some seeds in the dirt. But they weren't just any old seeds. They were the seeds from the orange I had just consumed. I was curious to see if anything would grow from them. So I watered the orange seeds diligently. And tended to my Mc Donald's sand castle bucket with great care. I was so very proud of myself when grass grew. Most people would call the green stuff weeds, but whatever dude. I was a gardening genius!

When I was in middle school (junior high) my lunch often consisted of a pizza pocket, jack-n-the-box style curly fries, dr. pepper or crystal clear pepsi (which was popular my 8th grade year I believe - man I loved that stuff), and cafeteria-made chocolate chip cookies. It wasn't the healthiest of lunches, but I loved it. And right now it sounds really freaking good.

Dang it. Now I'm hungry!

The sound of fingernails being scratched down a chalkboard doesn't bother me. Well, not as much as it bothers some people. Some people freak out and get all spazzy when they here that sound. Not me.

Some employee here just called me Honey. Now, he's old, and doesn't speak really good English, so maybe it's just an 'old foreign man' thing to call a young woman honey. But it bothers the hell out of me every time he does it. Like fingernails on a chalkboard bother some people. I don't think I'll ever say anything about it to him though. It's nothing really to make an issue out of. Just enough of an issue to make me want to bitch about it.

Sometimes I really want to slap people. Seriously slap them. Repeatedly. I want to slap them for being stupid. I want to slap them in order to shut them up. I want to slap them just for the sake of slapping them until they cry like the little bitches they are. I mainly only feel this way at work. And in line at the post office. And walking around the mall. And...
tuesday is chooseday

Would you rather...

1. while camping, have to cut your arm off with a pocket knife because it got stuck under a boulder and you were trapped for three days OR suck snake venom out of a snake bite in richard simmons' ass?

The second option made me laugh when I read it, so I'll be choosing that one. Gotta have some fun if you can while performing the unthinkable horrors that is life. Yeah, its snake venom and Richard Simmons and what is sure to be his hairy ass, but all that combined is a whole hell of a lot better than having to cut off my own arm. Eeek!

2. have both your feet amputated at the ankles OR be in a 10 round, bare-fisted, cage match with mike Tyson?

Tyson is fucking crazy dude. No way I'd want to go 10 rounds with him in anything. Not even a Blueberry Muffin Bake Off. Sure, you see him standing over there with his mixing bowls and polka dotted apron and you think he's calm and serene and on his meds... but just you watch out. He could snap at any moment, biting your ear off and spitting it into your muffin mix and...


Anyway, uh... were was I? Oh yeah. If I had to be in a cage match with Tyson I wouldn't last 10 rounds. And my poor face would be all smooshed and stuff. So I'd rather loose the feet. Then buy some new ones. With the proceeds I made after winning my Blueberry Muffin Surprise desert.

3. perform oral sex for 2 minutes on paris hilton OR anna nicole smith?

Ah geez. I can't stand either one. But if I had to pick one... probably Paris. Because she seems less annoying. And more, uh.. well, I'm just not gonna go there this morning. Or anytime.

4. be in a big-budget, action flick with paul reubens (pee wee herman) OR a low-budget, artsy film with jesse ventura?

Pee Wee!

Low budget artsy would be fun. And Jesse, might be cool to hang out with and act with and stuff. But I want to be in an action flick. I'll be Super Cheese Girl Crusader. And Reubens can be Mighty Magic Marker Boy. And together we can fight crime and have lots of stunt doubles and large explosions and cheesy dialogue and fancy on set catering and BIG ASS trailers. Because I might as well Go Big and pick the well funded flick, with all the extras for the stars and such. And I think it'd be fun to be in a movie with Paul Reubens.

Saturday, May 01, 2004

I say ... and you think ... ?

  1. Sexy:: lingerie
  2. Clique:: friends
  3. Pledge:: allegiance to the flag
  4. Carbs:: potatoes
  5. Dream Job:: cartoonist
  6. Sweeps:: week
  7. Soundtrack:: Roswell - (the soundtrack CD I'm actually listening to right now)
  8. Hero:: sunshine - (huh???)
  9. Shave:: razor
  10. Christina:: aguilera