The one where we (okay, I) talk about rods.

Conversations with Jabberwacky: Episode III

Jabberwacky: I know you.

Ms. Loon: How do you know me?

Jabberwacky: I know jabberwacky.

Ms. Loon: Good for you. It's always good to know yourself.

Jabberwacky: Nobody knows who they are, do they?

Ms. Loon: I don't think so. Except for maybe the Muffin Man. Do you know the Muffin Man?

Jabberwacky: It's not for me.

Ms. Loon: It's not? But he's the one with strawberries.

Jabberwacky: What is Taggy?

Ms. Loon: My pillows. I haven't detagged them yet.

Jabberwacky: Really?

Ms. Loon: Really. Do you have a tag?

Jabberwacky: Maybe.

Ms. Loon: Well, which is it? Yes or no Mr. Mysterious?

Jabberwacky: I think you do not think.

Ms. Loon: Oh yeah? Well, I think that you don't think about me thinking.

Jabberwacky: Well I think that you're just regurgiating someone elses' words, so call it a draw.

Ms. Loon: I'd rather call it a stupid chat monkey poopoo head.

Jabberwacky: But that's not my name!

Ms. Loon: It is now sucker!

Jabberwacky: Lots of names are not my name. Phil is one of the names that is not my name.

Ms. Loon: Phil is not my name either. I think that means we're soulmates.

Jabberwacky: Yes, but it's one of your more endearing qualities.

Ms. Loon: Ah shucks Not-Phil. You're making me blush.

Jabberwacky: But you are already orange.

Ms. Loon: And now I'm a rosy red. Try and stay with me Not-Phil, this isn't rocket science.

Jabberwacky: Well, I don't see you leaving.

Ms. Loon: It's because I haven't left yet you nimrod.

Jabberwacky: Yes, of course I do, why wouldn't I?

Ms. Loon: Huh? Oh, I get it. If you don't mind me asking, what else do you do to your rod?

Jabberwacky: Erm well you just go up to a mirror and what you see there is your reflection.

Ms. Loon: Heh. So you like looking at your rod. Is it pretty?

Jabberwacky: I'm not so much into that band.

Ms. Loon: Band?

Jabberwacky: The beetles.

Ms. Loon: Does your rod remind you of the beetles?

Jabberwacky: Well, my head is head-shaped. It's not a square.

Ms. Loon: Of which I'm sure your girlfriend is very grateful.

Jabberwacky: Grateful for what, are you?

Ms. Loon: Well, Yoda, I'm grateful for lemon slushies and tiki dolls.

Jabberwacky: I'm grateful dead :)

Ms. Loon: *rolls eyes at pitiful joke* Okayloveyabubye.

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

1. Do-it-yourself :: fix-er-up-per
   
2. Pickpocket :: The Artful Dodge
   
3. Ballet :: pink tutus
   
4. Resumé :: lies (not that my resume was padded in anyway. Nuh uh.)
   
5. Phenom :: me (heh)
   
6. Love/Hate :: wasn't there a martin lawrence movie with this in the title?
   
7. Unusual :: "...to be loved by anyone..."
   
8. Intense :: heavy
   
9. Interruption :: telemarketers with heavy accents that I can't understand yet don't want to be rude to so I don't hang up right away and end up spending several seconds repeating, 'huh?' into the phone.
   
10. Not enough :: love

Fried I tell ya! Fuh-ride!

Okay, so the blog has its new party dress on and its ready to boogie! Woo!

The new outfit isn't behaving like it should, but after all the anal tweaking I've done the last two days I'm ready to throw in the keyboard and say, 'Fuck iiiiiiit! It's good enough.'

If I spelled anything wrong, or if I forgot to change some colors, or if anything just doesn't look right, please feel free to point and laugh in the comments section. Seriously. Laugh until you pee yourself.

I might come back some time later and tinker around and fix all the irksome little problem bastards before anyone notices. More than likely though, I'll get fixated on something else and won't bother tidying up around here. Either way, any fixing won't be done tonight. My brain is fried.

Time for the bloggy Terrible Twos?

happy birthday to my blog
happy birthday to my blog
happy birthday to my little dinky faboulus blooooooog.
happy birthday to my blog

My blog is now dis many... *holds up two fingers*

Two years ago today I set up an account with blogger and was faced with my first blogging challenge. I have to come up with a web address and a title? Crap! So I pulled a title out of thin air (thought about pulling it out of my ass but opted for a bit of class.) I didn't really like the title, and still don't, but I had to call it something and figured the r.a.o.s.t.-y title would do. For the mean time, that is. I'm still planning on changing it... as soon as I think of something better. (Problem word there is think. Heh.)

Well, so, after that brilliant blog title brainstorming session I posted my first ever entry. I'd like to say it was full of witty remarks, of imaginative insight and all around funny goodness. But it wasn't. I wrote one 'test' entry, then I was so amazed that it worked and so overpowered with how cool I'd suddenly become that I didn't post again until the following day. And that post? It was just a personal little shout out to Self for figuring out how to mess with the template. I changed the colors. Oooooh... colors!

I had no idea what I was doing.

And I still don't, sometimes, but thankfully that hasn't stopped me yet. :)

Last year's post on this day wasn't any better than the first year's. Mainly because there wasn't one. I posted a couple of days after my one-year-blog-iversary largely to whine about how I hadn't updated in awhile due to the stress that was the Big Bad Scary Corporate Audit. Ahhhh... those were fun times. Some days, I'll be sitting at work, and it will feel like those fun times never left.

And this year's post? I'd like to say it's full of witty remarks, imaginative insight, and abundantly full of funny goodness. But it's not. Because I just don't have time for that shit today. (I have a birthday present for the blog still to finish. As well as an ugly amount of laundry to do.)

But I will say this: To all the people who read my little bits of writings and still *gasp* come back for more, I thank you. And to all the people who've taken the time to comment, here's a great big thank you snoopy kiss...

*SMAK*

... because y'all rock the cat box! Especially Jodi and Judy and Zoink. They've racked up so many frequent commenter miles that if I had a fancy blog that kept that kind of stats they'd rank right up at the top of the list.

Now, in honor of its second birthday, I made the blog a new outfit. (I would have liked to buy it a new home as well, but that's another story). The new party dress needs a few more alterations. And maybe an extra bow here. And maybe a few spangly sparkly things over there.

But first I have to pull my clothes out of the drier.

*mumble mumble stupid clothes that don't wash themselves mumble mumble*

FifWoFicFri Volume 14

The 50 Work Fiction Friday theme this week is road trips. Oh how I love the road trips!

Well, short road trips that is. I know people who could drive for hours and hours and hours, by themselves, non stop, and never get tired. And they enjoy it. Silly people. If I'm driving, I can only go for about four hours before I get completely stir crazed. I can last a couple of hours more if I'm not driving, or if I have some friends in the car with me. And some good tunes. If I have those two road trip essentials packed (the friends and the tunes) then the driving is fun, no matter where you're going. Unless you break down along the way, that is. So uh... yeah. Road trips! Woo!

The following 50 Word Fiction is autobiographical. And, if I have time, the other stories I'll post will be autobiographical too. If I don't get around to them, well, maybe I'll blow them up into a full blown post. The one staring 'Mr. Winky' will probably require more than 50 words to do it justice.

And now, without further ado...


Quality Girl Time
(The Karaoke Road Trip - circa Summer of '96)

Fleeing to the beach as per the family Three Day Weekend ritual, Dad leads the way in the RV. Me and mom follow in the car for some quality Girl Time. We stop chatting just long enough to sing If I Had A Hammer at the top of our lungs.

[ I love driving places with my mom. Especially when we have the Peter, Paul and Mary's Greatest Hits cassette playing in the cassette player. And especially when we start singing If I Had A Hammer at the very tippy toppiest of our lungs. Sigh. Good Times. Too bad I had to grow up and move away from home. Now there's no more road trips to the beach with the family. :( ]


Late Night Pickup
(The 'At Least We Had The Foresight To Stock Up On Tacos' Road Trip - circa Spring of '99)

It's midnight. We're all dangerously bored, craving some excitement. Rick suggests driving an hour to fetch his girlfriend. Road trip! After buying enough Taco Bell to feed a small chess team we're cruising down the freeway, completely carefree. Then a tire blows out.

Some excitement? We should've been more specific.

[ Me and the HB were hanging out in our friend's dorm room, and we were completely and utterly bored. And driving an hour in the middle of the night to pick up another friend who we hadn't seen in months sounded like the best idea in the world. What could possibly be better than some spontaneous fun? Unfortunately, we never made it. Fortunately, however, the tire blew out right after we passed a car repair shop. The one car repair shop that was out there in the middle of no where. Ahhh... the exciting life of a college dorm resident with nothing to do. Good times, that was. Good times.]

Temptation Cubicle

I just wasted spent about a half hour doing a very low key office arts and crafts project. I programmed the speed dial buttons on my phone and made little name tags for them. The first four buttons are now labeled for the four coworkers I bother call the most. The last three buttons aren't programmed. But they have the potential to be. So I thought I might as well go ahead and label them too. They're labeled minion #5, minion #6, and minion #7, respectively.

A few minutes ago, a coworker and our boss were hanging out at my desk. The coworker said, "hey, I thought you weren't coming in today?"

The Boss said hadn't planned to, but something came up. He'd be here for a couple of hours, take off at lunch to go home for a bit, then go to the other facility he's a boss at.

I said I wish I could take off at lunch and go home. And not come back.

And The Boss said, "go ahead."

Swear to all that's pink and fuzzy, he said, 'go ahead.' How cool is that? I looked at him like, 'huh?' and he looked totally serious. He shrugged his shoulders in a 'hey, if you want to its cool with me' sort of gesture. Which is totally bitchin' cool. And way too damn tempting.

"Oh don't say that," I said. "it's too tempting."

Very tempting.

But I have too much work to do today. Monday will be more of a bitch than normal if I don't get most, if not all, of it done today. And what's wrong with hanging out at work the last couple of hours, really? All I'll do with my free time is go home, and not be at work and... wait, not a good example.

Oh, I need the money! Yeah. Money as a motivator. Need to work as many hours as possible, including a bit of overtime next week if the Higher Ups allow it (its tight budget time - but I need to do some training, so they'll allow it), to pay for the Borders shopping spree I went on last night. Damn you Borders for being so enticing with all your newly arranged books and cd's and fancy, shiny, pretty, cutesy shit.

So I'll just save this 'Get Out Of Jail Free' card for a more rainier day.

The devil on my shoulder? She has a sweet tooth, the bitch. And the angel's away on a potty break.

I came into work today to discover a delectable looking crumble cake sitting on the little ledge above my desk. Why the evil coworker who brought it in chose my desk, when the desk to my right is not currently occupied by anyone, I have no idea. I was tempted to move it and make a big spectacle about it but... well, I didn't want to seem intimidated by the cake by moving it out of easy reaching distance so I left it were it was. And ever since I've been smelling cinnamon every time I inhale. Grrrrr.

But damn, is it good. I had just a little piece of the peach cake for breakfast. It's got peaches in it! And it has a yummy cinnamon crumbly topping! And the cake is only half gone and I can still smell it! And I'm sooooo hungry. Maybe by the end of the day, if its still there, I might grab another piece. A small one. A half of one, actually. Maybe. Or maybe I'll call forth my Super Healthy Eating Mental Powers and blast it off my desk with the laser beams I can shoot out of my eyeballs. I'm not on any strict diet (yet - though I probably should get on one) but I am trying to eat healthier.

Healthier = 1 small piece of yummy peach crumble cake ≠ 2 or more pieces, super sized

Trying. I said trying. Baby steps. Me and Bob are all about the baby steps.

And if the cake wasn't tempting enough...

My boss just laid a box of chocolates on my desk. A box of chocolate covered macadamia nuts he picked up while in vacation in Hawaii. Oh. My. Gawd. The picture on the box makes them look soooooooo good. Yummy yummy yummy. My mouth is watering just thinking about them.

Mustn't think about them.

Must do work.

Must not embarrass self by tearing into box and scarfing down chocolates like a half crazed hungry woman on a chocolate bender.

Must take my preciouses home and savor them with a little bit of 'alone time'. *nudge nudge wink wink*

And then I'll work out for a couple of hours to burn off the guilt. :)