the cheese stands alone

Toys

good old Pong

Escaping Letters

Speak Up

Okay, once again a good case of the fidgets has made me bugger around with the colors. I've already gotten one "nay" vote (actually, he said " Makes me want to drive ice picks into my eyes. ")
Never would I want my blogbuddies to go blind, so speak up....
Keep or do-over?

UPDATE: So far we have three six "yes" (albeit one two was were in the "tolerable" category) and one two "no" "nos". We might have four seven yes votes.... is "whale vagina" color a good thing?
UPDATE Subsidiary: The GM1 just got a look at it and said it was PeptoBismol pink. I was thinking more bubble-gummish.
SON OF UPDATE: Alrighty, lightened up the pink a bit but not so much I was giving in. Now it's more of "baby baboon butt pink". Although Anna says:
"The posts on the outside that we can clearly see will be known as the "Majora." And the ones you've hidden that we must open for more will be the "Minora." "
(that was just too damn good to leave sequestered in the comments. )

It Buys Happiness Just Fine If You Know Where To Shop

This week's Friday Five....

You have just won one million dollars:

1. Who do you call first?
The GM1, of course. After that, not a soul. They'll all be coming out of the woodwork as soon as word gets out anyway.

2. What is the first thing you buy for yourself?
Financial freedom, meaning I pay off this mountain of debt that is threatening to avalanche us.

3. What is the first thing you buy for someone else?
My mom has always wanted a Mercedes Benz, which she calls a "circle car". I'd buy her a sparkly white one.

4. Do you give any away? If yes, to whom?
I'd give some to my relatives, even the ones who don't need it. I'd give a big lump to Tonya, so she can hire someone to beat the hell out of her child-custody interfering asshole Michael of an estranged David soon-to-be-ex husband Jackson who shall remain nameless.

5. Do you invest any? If so, how?
Oh yeah, but I let someone who knows how to do it, do it. As long as I get a decent monthly income from it, I'm happy.

Man, am I cranky today or what? Methinks I need some more coffee and a quick watch of "Father Ted" or something.

Over the River and Through the Woods

Since virtually everyone who is anyone (or who likes to do these things, which I do) is doing the "Visited States" map. So I did (see extended version.)
Actually, I could have redded all 48 contiguous states, plus Hawaii. But I chose to just count the states I could remember being in rather than just driving through. I've driven back and forth across and up and down and diagonally this country more times than I can count, between the ages of 25 and 27, because for that brief time I was a driver for North American Van Lines.
And someday, little ones, when I don't have a particularly nasty aquarium to clean, I'll tell you some tales of it.
You think I see some weirdness just hanging out near home? There's a whole country full of freaks out there, and I saw most of them.

create your own visited states map
or write about it on the open travel guide

PS... I didn't drive to Hawaii, in case you wondered and want to borrow my aqua-car. We used to live there via the GM1's shore duty.

One Step Closer To Smelling The Toast

The GM1 just pointed out to me that, when walking around our apartment-in-the-mostly-dark-because-we-don't-want-to-pay-out-the-yin-yang-to-the -electric-company, I will announce quietly what it is I've stumbled into, like a laundry list of klutzhood....
"Desk..... wall.... chair.... dead chia pet...."

I had no idea I did this.
I am Joe's Last Brain Cell.

Made To Be Broken and Then Duct-taped To Within an Inch of Its Life

Da (or is it Der?) Commissar has released an edict on the Ten Rules of Blogging.
You all know what a vast and unceasing respect I have for rules, don't you?
Then let's begin.....

1. Do not apologize for light blogging.
I can't cop to this one, as I rarely apologize for anything. I'll admit my guilt, takes my lumps, and move on, but unless I drew blood or made you question my basic humanity (stop laughing), I don't often need to apologize.
In my case, some would say light blogging would be more of a blessing than something to be sorry for.

2. Do not link every word in sentence to a different post, like this.
Again, can't say I've done this either. Not out of any misplaced aesthetic, or respect for some arcane etiquette, but because I am too damn lazy. Linking is a lot of work, people! Don't I have enough to do cleaning up dead birds and watching crazy people?

3. One topic per post.
I am a big believer in efficiency and time-saving. If I can post about my mom, mad cow disease, and the democratic process as it applies to a thousand monkeys typing Shakespeare, I am damn well going to do it in one fell swoop.
I don't swoop fellishly nearly enough.
And a thousand monkeys... who can beat a thousand monkeys? Because, dammit, monkeys are cool.

4. Keep it short.
Sorry, but size does matter. If I can tell the tale in ten terse tones (and stop the alliteration before I alliterate again) then I will. But if it takes half a page of type and a fifth of Jack to do it properly, then short be damned and the editorial comments take the hindmost.
Yeah, babe, tell Shakespeare to keep it brief. Tell Tolkien putting it all in one book would have done nicely. Tell Mozart it has too many notes.
Sure.

5. No "Free Trackback posts."
To be honest, I have to say I don't have clue one what this means. But I don't like the sound of that "no" business anyway.

6. No false updating,
If this means writing a post and saving it in draft for later publication, then I've happily broken that rule a million times over. (For you anal-retentives keeping score, no, I don't have a million posts. It's a phrase. Don't make me come back there.) Sometimes we all get on a roll, the posts just come flying off our little fingers... but do you want to shoot your wad in one day, when you can have a nice little nest egg to milk if later on the Inspiration Fairy is out sick?
(That was a blenderful of mixed metaphor, wasn't it?).
Sometimes too, we write things in the heat of passionate pissed-offed-ness, and don't get our ducks all in the proverbial row. But after a couple days of research and rethinking, maybe it's best for the post, and the reader of such, that we let it gestate for a while in the draft womb.
I am running out of analogy, so I shall stop here.
(By the way, I wrote this last week... still love me?)

7. Identify your sex.
Sure, and would you like to know what color undies I have on? What my mom's middle name is? What time I go to work so you can case the joint and swipe my teakettle collection?
Good writing doesn't have to show you I.D. Do you read with your balls or your eyes?

8. Maybe give us more than "Hey, I am bright conservative/liberal guy/gal, with news and views of the world."
If a blog is judged by its tagline, then I am so screwed, huh?

9. No quizzes.
At the risk of being indelicate, let me just say: Bullshit.
(was that in keeping with #4 enough for you?)

10. Set Site Meter to "Ignore Own Visits."
I was always of the school of thought that Sitemeter and the like were for keeping your own track of who's come over to visit, not measures of how big one's dick is.

In short, I have broken most of these rules, and will continue to do so. Know why? Because the blogosphere is a big old place, growing bigger by the minute and I sincerely doubt anyone can rein in enough of it to state categorically and definitively that there is an Ultimate Set of Rules for Blogging.
Personal guidelines? Take a shot. Personal preferences? Knock yourself out. Personal choices? That's what it's all about, Bucky.

Rules? Where we're going, we don't need rules.

Confirmation

'Sadistic Bastard'
What Type of Lunatic are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
(stolen from Tiffany, along with that candy I snatched from babies)

Day Late and the Equivalent of Several Small Countries' GNP Short

Tiffany says this week's Tuesday is Chooseday is tailor-made for me because it mentions genitals and cheese.
It sounds like my prom night, actually. But that's another story.... let me do this first.....

Would you rather:
1. be omnipotent OR be omniscient? (thanks deltus)
I'd much rather be omnipotent. I don't have the wardrobe to be everywhere.
Pixy reminds me that I'm thinking of "omnipresent" and not "omniscient". See, if I were really omniscient I would have known that.

2. win the nobel prize for medecine because you invented a pill that will help grow hair back OR work for the peace corps rebuilding a village and help thousands of people?
I'll take fame and fortune over amoebic dysentery every time. Send in the baldies!

3. your genitals glow red whenever you are aroused OR your skin turn lobster red whenever you are frustrated?
Who in their right mind would turn down genital glowage? In fact, I'm glowing right now! You're soaking in it!
Okay, got offtrack for a minute, sorry....

4. in one sitting, eat ten pounds of cheese OR a bucket of peanut butter (with nothing to drink)?
Have these past few months together taught you nothing? How do you think I get my genitals to glow in the first place. It's the cheese, baby!

The Fruit of Our Prawns

Teresa has a blog now! Teresa has a blog now!

You know Teresa... she is the one who leaves such pithy and perfect comments that everyone afterward either won't comment out of comparative performance anxiety or they spend the next dozen comments exhorting Teresa to get a blog of her own so we can read her talent without having to open comment boxes.

I only hope that this doesn't mean Teresa will stop commenting, because when you see her name in your commenting queue, you know you did good. And I am a sad, shallow little pudge of insecurity and need my affirmations, dammit.

Yippee-Ki-Yay....

My current favorite joke....

Three strangers strike up a conversation in the airport passenger lounge in Bozeman, Montana, awaiting their flights. One is an American Indian
passing through from Lame Deer. Another is a Cowboy on his way to Billings for a livestock show and the third passenger is a fundamentalist Arab
student, newly arrived at Montana State University from the Middle East.

Their discussion drifts to their diverse cultures. Soon, the two Westerners learn that the Arab is a devout, radical Muslim and the conversation falls into an uneasy lull.

The cowboy leans back in his chair, crosses his boots on a magazine table and tips his big sweat-stained hat forward over his face. The wind outside is blowing tumbleweeds around, and the old windsock is flapping; but still no plane comes.

Finally, the American Indian clears his throat and softly he speaks,
"At one time here, my people were many, but sadly, now we are few."

The Muslim student raises an eyebrow and leans forward, "Once my people were few," he sneers, "and now we are many. Why do you suppose that is?"

The Montana cowboy shifts his toothpick to one side of his mouth and from the darkness beneath his Stetson says in a drawl, "That's 'cause we ain't played Cowboys and Muslims yet, but I do believe it's a-comin'."

Recipe For Fun

Want to see your beloved spouse make a really funny face? While he is still blissfully asleep, visions of sugarplums and all that, stand by the bed, holding a pillow in both hands and breathing really hard. Hum the music from the shower scene in "Psycho", that's a nice touch.
Wait for him to wake up and realize what the hell he thinks is going on.
Laugh repeatedly about it throughout the rest of the day until he sits on you and farts in retaliation.
And they say romance is dead.

I Always Knew It Would Come To This

You will be smothered under a rug. You're a little
anti-social, and may want to start gaining new
social skills by making prank phone calls.

What horrible Edward Gorey Death will you die?
brought to you by Quizilla
(found for me by "Never Say Die When You Can Say Maim" Anna, who found it on Pork Muffin, a name I covet, and by the way, Anna is my hero. Sorry, Superman-san.)

World Domination Part Two

How would you take over the world?
I, of course, have my own plans, but they don't include blabbery.
Sheesh, you guys, give me some credit, will ya?

How Would YOU Take Over the World?

(unearthed at The Rebelsnail Tyrant Test, a secret location cleverly leaked by Bifurcated Rivets)

Bobo's Choice #10

Ten second animations come from Itching Hands.

Policy Statement

I am not anti-Korean, anti-female, nor homophobic.
I just think Margaret Cho is an unfunny loudmouth kneejerking waste of skin who ceased be entertaining right after her first concert film.
Carry on.

Limited Time Offer

The GM1 has foolishly left me to my own devices tonight and yea verily I hath broken the seal on the icy cold bottle of Grey Goose I was saving for a special occasion.
I got tired of waiting.
So most likely I'll be spending way entirely too much time on this blog tonight, and so I ask a favor of you, my loyal (did you get the check?) readers.
Please, here in the comments, send some suggestions on bloggable topics with which to occupy me tonight. Otherwise I'm going to end up watching reruns of "Queer Eye For The Straight Guy" and I have enough of an inferiority complex.
It's either that or I futz around with my template again. And friends don't let friends drunk-template.
C'mon, you guys. Give me a challenge. I promise to try my dingy darnedest, or at least to let you know how playing quarter bounce with the toaster turns out.
It's a 50/50 deal.

UPDATE: Did I mention that I have the attention span of a gnat? I'm off to watch
"Finding Nemo" again.

Short and Sweet

Just like me. :)
This week's Friday Five.....

At this moment, what is your favorite...

1. ...song?
Hmm, torn between "Army" by Ben Folds Five and "Bad Touch" by Bloodhound Gang.

2. ...food?
Pizza.

3. ...tv show?
Currently (sort of) running: "Survivor". On DVD, "Firefly".

4. ...scent?
I have a body lotion called "Cinnamon Roll". It makes me smell like I just climbed out of the oven, full of sugary goodness.

5. ...quote?
"The Fear had two parts. Number one, you have lost control absolutely. Number two, having done so, the real you emerges and you won't like it." Tom Maddox, "Snake Eyes"

Leakage

1. There is a small Asian man pacing the sidewalk in front of my apartment, muttering to himself and waving a cigar around.
1a. He's wearing a very lovely suit and tie, clutching a fedora in one hand.
1b. He is also barefoot and has a ragged bath towel safety-pinned to his shoulders like a cape.
1c. The ritual taking out of the garbage is postponed until I can figure what Superman-san is up to.
1d. Perhaps he's looking for a turkey.

2. The floor of my balcony is covered with dead bees. Somehow my balcony has become the dreaded Balcony Of Death.
3. I wonder if I could invite Howard Dean to visit my balcony?
4. My mom just called for lyrics clarification. I was forced to tell her that no, it does not go "Don't know what it tastes like, I'm addicted to love". She seemed relieved, actually.
5. Superman-san is back. He has stuffed the fedora down the back of his pants. Bold fashion move, Superman-san.
6. You can make an edible psuedo-Thai-peanut-sauce with peanut butter, vinegar, lime juice and ketchup, but I don't advise it.
7. Superman-san is in the middle of the street studying the manhole cover. He waves politely no matter what motorists forced to swerve yell about his mother.
8. I found seventy-five cents under the toaster. I can only guess I was drunk and playing Vending Machine Fun again.
9. Oh goody, the garbage truck is here.
10. Superman-san is also excited about the garbage truck. He's so overwhelmed with emotion he's dropped his cigar and crawled under a car.
11. Apparently it was just the path he chose to take, as he has wiggled out the other side and run after the garbage truck.
12. I wish I could get that excited about the garbage truck. Perhaps if George Clooney drove a garbage truck....
12a. I like the way "garbage truck" looks.... garbage truck garbage truck garbage truck. Yowsa.
13. Superman-san is a sentimental, holiday-every-day kind of guy. I know this because he is dragging a dried-out Christmas tree down the sidewalk and calling it "darling."
14. I hope they'll be very happy together.
15. Can someone tell me when Tim Burton started scripting my street?

Dear Fox Network:

I never ever thought this would happen. At least, I never thought it would happen to me.
I found a reality show I don't like.

I have watched at least one episode of every reality show out there.
"Survivor"? I would give up my grandmother's left nut to be on that show.
"Big Brother"? I planned my summer vacation so I wouldn't miss any episodes.
"Simple Life"? I never laughed so hard.
"American Idol"? That's engraved on my calendar in the blood of virgins. Or something emphatic like that.

So tonight, when I settled down to watch "My Big Fat Obnoxious Fiance", I figured I was right in my element. It seemed pretty formula... the odd couple thing, big payoff at the end, lots of silly stunts and embarassment in the middle.
I'd expected to cringe as the BFOF went through his routines of being as Big, Fat, and Obnoxious as possible, as per scenario. I expected to pity the delicate little blonde who was the pretend bride.
I did not expect to side with Mr. BFOF and dislike, nay, LOATHE little Miss Priss before the show was half over.
Lady, where did you go wrong? Let me tell you.

First off, if you keep making that bug-eyed, deer in the headlights look, your face is going to freeze that way.

Secondly, please remove that stick from your oh-so-very-proper ass. You are a volunteer on a reality show, the premise of which is to lie to your family and friends about your engagement and fiance. Do you really think repeating over and over how this guy appalls you because he does things that are "inappropriate" gives you the high road?

Thirdly, stop with the bloody PC bullshit of saying "inappropriate." If it's gross, call it gross. If it's nasty, call it nasty.
Let's go over that again: Burping like a foghorn = gross.
Calling the Pope "dude" = inappropriate.

And D, which takes the cue from point #2, cease and desist this judgemental high and mighty tone. You were shocked that he parties at age 29? That he meets girls in bars? That he eats meat?
I would dearly love to hear your squeals of anguish when you discover men have peepees and by the way, there is no Easter Bunny.

With this all in mind, I have had to suspend viewing of "My Big Fat Obnoxious Fiance." I just can't watch a woman who is such a tight-ass that if she farts, dogs three counties away go deaf. You make Queen Victoria look like Paris Hilton.

Let me conclude, Fox Network, by saying if your aim was to sell more advertising space to the Rolaids and Preparation H people, you picked the right cast. But you're going to have to shoulder the burden without this girl.
I'll just be over here, patiently waiting for the new season of "Survivor".

This tribe has spoken.

It's Coming

Less than two weeks until Superbowl.
Excited, although not quite to the pants-wetting level.
Depressed, because then what the hell will I have to look forward to once football season is over?
Re-excited, because I just remembered new "Survivor" starts up then.

And very proud of myself, because I got 9/10 on the Armchair Quarterback quiz.
(found in locker room at Martinis, Persistence, and a Smile)

More Words of Wisdom From the GM1

I just heard the GM1 laughing in the other room and asked him what was so funny.
"You are." he says. "You're watching "Cops", aren't you?"
"How could you tell?"
"Because you're yelling 'Shoot him! Shoot him!' and it's too early for "American Idol."

Sorry

For you frothing multitudes of horny young tossers searchers, you will find no Lee Ann Tweeden here.
Trust me.
This

is apparently what you're looking for.

This

is what you'll get.
If I feel like getting all dolled up, that is.

I Thought I'd Be Dig Dug

I am a Light Cycle. I drive fast, I turn fast, I do everything fast. I even breakfast. I tend to confuse people with my sudden changes of heart. Sometimes I even confuse myself, which tends to cause problems. What Video Game Character Are You?

(scored at Silverblue's place)

What A Pussy

I think this is just freekin' hilarious. I mean, if you're going to open up your blog to guest bloggers while you're on vacation, then don't throw a big "poor me" hissy fit when they prank out on your over-the-top anti-cat stance.
I always thought he was unstable. This is just icing on the crazy cake.
But it's still pretty funny.

First Bigfoot and Now This- Updated

Speaking of politics, which I usually don't because I am biting a hole in my tongue so as not to raise that whole "LeeAnn is a raving lunatic" subject amongst local law enforcement my loved ones again,.... after 15 years of marriage, I have just found out that the GM1 is a Democrap.
I know, and thank you, I have a list of divorce lawyers already.

How the subject came up I don't know. I think it was on the way while taking him to work and traffic and bad radio forced conversation from us before we were properly caffeinated. Tragic circumstances, to be sure.
Since I can't talk without waving my arms, we nearly ran over several unsuspecting commuters (I bet they were Democrats too, in which case they deserved it). In the course of the scream fest discussion, he saved his neck by explaining he wasn't really a Democrat, he was a registered Independent, and that he just was completely brainwashed to a mindless commie drone agreed with some of the Democratic platforms.
At this time, I chose to go into LeeAnn's Fantasy Definition Land and convince myself he means "as in 2x4s". It was the only thing that kept him alive. (Oh and the gate guard at the base was very close to the window, wearing a lovely sidearm, and watching me carefully since I was a bright purple and covered in coffee splatter [see "arm waving"]).
I sent the GM1 off to his day with strict instructions on how to save his tattered travesty of marital union forged under devious half-truths marriage: write me an email listing exactly what he believes (politically, because we already had the important belief discussion early on, and I forgave him for not acknowledging the existance of Nessie, Bigfoot, outer space aliens, and Anna Nicole Smith's humanity).
I am now waiting patiently (stop laughing, you) at the computer for the email that will save our wedded bliss, and possibly the GM1's testicle ownership as well.
Wish him luck.

Update: To the kind gentleman who emailed me quite concerned about the GM1's health and well-being: I can assure you the GM1 knows, as does anyone with two working brain cells, that this post was meant humorously and in no way could be taken as a threat to the GM1, the Democratic Party, or Anna Nicole Smith. Your kind offers to the GM1 to "come over and bust that bitch's ass" have been forwarded to him and given the due consideration they deserve.
Holy shit, people.

The Joys of Procrastination

Once again, I discover that if I linger long enough, someone else will write a post I had been planning to write (but never quite got round to doing it). Not only that, they will be more eloquent and concise about it.
And have a cuter baby picture up at the top too.

Go see what Judi has to say about her political beliefs. They follow my own thinking almost exactly. (Except the New York State local stuff, as I know diddly and his brother squat about that.)

Out In the Halle

This week's Entertainment Weekly has a little feature on an upcoming movie, "Catwoman", with Halle Berry as, well, Catwoman.
Co-star Sharon Stone says:

"There have been other Catwomen who were real actresses, but [none with] the depth of soul and spirit that Halle has."

Depth of soul and spirit
We are talking about a movie here whose main draw is Halle Berry in strategically ripped latex with a lot of cleavage. Not that I'm against cleavage, mind you. Cleavage is a great and wondrous thing that should not be belittled.
But c'mon.... depth of soul and spirit?

Methinks Ms. Stone, who has not made a decent movie since "Basic Instinct" (although "Antz" was pretty good), is trying to drum up some reflected glory for her own blonde self, now that she's kicked her komodo-dragon fodder hubby to the curb.
I'm just sayin'.
Yes, I know she's made plenty of movies since "Basic Instinct"... I just think they sucked. And phrases like "depth of soul and spirit" make my gorge engage. Needless new-age-speak always does that.

The GM1 Speaks Once More

Upon watching me scramble frantically for a large book to squash a spider:
"Yeah, babe, that's just what Guttenberg had in mind."
(I don't know if he meant Johannes or Steve.)

Complete Bollocks

What day are you?

Monday's Child is fair of face
Tuesday Child is full of grace
Wednesday's Child is full of woe
Thursday's Child has far to go
Friday's Child is loving and giving
Saturday's Child works hard for a living
But Sunday's Child is fair and wise, and good and gay

Quite obviously this doesn't hold. How about "Friday's Child is silly, under-caffeinated, and has dead bird carcasses as patio decor"?
(found, appropriately enough, at Days Go By)

And Nothing Says "I Love You" Like Something That Flings

I know what I want for Valentine's Day.
I went to the movies this evening, saw "Timeline". Adequate movie, but I came away with one abiding thought:
I want a trebuchet oh so bad.
Please?

Dribbles and Bits

1. A bird has just committed suicide against my balcony doors.
2. It did not wake up the GM1, although it sounded like a car bomb going off.
3. I will have to Windex this door.
4. As soon as I quit gagging.
5. The carcass is lying a surprising distance from the door.
6. Obviously I did not understand the appropriate bounce factor in bird suicide.
7. It is lying on something that looks odd... oh, I see it now.
8. I had lost a sock betwixt door and laundry shed.
9. There it is.
10. I certainly don't want it now.
11. Also, the previous plans to lunch at KFC are now off.
12. Oh, look, some little friend birds have come to mourn.
13. Is THAT how birds mourn?
14. At least I won't have to fill the bird feeder now.
15. Gag retch urp.
16. Or clean up, apparently.
17. Efficient little buggers.
18. Hungry, too.
19. I am going to go wash out my eyes and go back to bed.
20. *THUMP*
21. Oh bloody hell.

Clean Up on Aisle Seven

I thought I was coming down to the wire on this whole cold situation, until just a minute ago. You know that phrase "coughed up a lung"?
Yep.
On the plus side, I have a nifty new throw rug now. A little bubbly, but a conversation piece.
Going to go lie down and guzzle Nyquil a while.
I'd just like to add that I post this in no way pleading for sympathy, but as a warning that you might want to move back from the monitor a little, as I am probably as contagious as the bubonic plague and about as sticky. So don't cry for me, Argentina, as cherry Nyquil is quite tasty. Now, green Nyquil... that was severely icky. I call it the "gagging retching puking falling wake up on the kitchen floor and not know how you got there medicine."

Friday Fiveishness

This week it's all about me me ME!
The Friday Five gets personal.

1. What does it say in the signature line of your emails?
Funny you should ask.

2. Did you have a senior quote in your high school yearbook? What was it? If you haven't graduated yet, what would you like your quote to be?
That was so long ago I don't truly remember. I don't even have my high school yearbook. Some stinkin' archeologist took it, called it something stupid like "Rosetta Stone". The joke's on him, we didn't have a Rosetta in my class. HA!

3. If you had vanity plates on your car, what would they read? If you already have them, what do they say?
My first car that was entirely all mine was a 1968 baby blue VW bug. I dearly loved that POS. It enabled me to get the most fun job I've ever had, delivering balloons and singing telegrams in costume.
The plate said "OOOOOH".

4. Have you received any gifts with messages engraved upon them? What did the inscription say?
The GM1, a few years ago, gave me a beautiful bracelet, and inside was engraved "Mine". When we first met, he gave me an engraved keychain, with my name on one side and "Picky Picky Picky" on the other.
The GM1 is a man of few words, but always the correct ones.

5. What would you like your epitaph to be?
I have a reputation amongst family that when something riles me, I fire off a letter to whomever is to blame. I once was so eloquent a thieving delivery driver was fired. So I guess my epitaph would have to be my usual phrase at times things don't go my way.... "That's it! I'm writing A Letter!"
(I have few talents but am inordinately proud of them. I am also the queen of parallel parking, and I can tie a cherry stem in a knot with my tongue in 11 seconds.)

It's Hip To Be Square

You are the Low-Fidelity All-Star. You were born
with your cool, and it's totally natural. You
run the gamut from Hipster Supreme (only they
can ingest as much coffee as you) to the geeky
hipster (Mario Kart, anyone?).

What Kind of Hipster Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
(snagged at the very cool Res Ipsa Loquitur)

Thar's A New Meme In Town

I'm not really sure if it's new or just coming around again, but I feel the need to let questions direct my content today.
(delicately tugged away from the underside of Mamageek's table.)

What is the middle name of the first person you ever slept with?
Stephen. Unless you mean actually slept, in which case it was Mr. Gikky.
Mr. Gikky was a spider. Okay, not a real spider, but a piece of lint I carried around for two years without losing once, through three moves and innumerable redecoratings. My mom says when I did finally misplace him, I screamed like I was having a major organ removed with a plastic spork.

What kind of underwear are you wearing and what color?
They're my superhero underwear, therefore invisible to the naked eye.

What is the song you want played at your funeral?
Despite all my flightiness and changeability, this is one thing that's remained constant since I was going through my morbid stage at age 6 and wrote down strict instructions for my funeral. (no roses, ice cream after, and puppies instead of a headstone).
I want "Waltzing Matilda" played on the bagpipes.

What would your last meal be before getting executed?
Tastewise, I'd probably want pizza. But if I were in a vengeful mood, I'd want sauerkraut, broccoli, chili, and beer.
Leave them more than a little something to remember me by.

Beatles or Stones?
Beatles need squishing, and stones need throwing (preferably near glass houses). I'd have to go with Nilsson.

If you had to pick one person on earth who should die, who would it be?
Dang, only one? And do I get to choose how they die? And where?
There are just too many things left open to negotiation in this. Have your people call my people.

The person whose problems you would never want to hear again?
I started to say my exes, and then I thought.... No, those are the exactly the folk you WANT to hear all about their pains, agonies, and troubles. In great, gleeful detail.
Since my best friend Tonya tells me pretty much everything, I'd want to never hear her troubles again, because it would mean she didn't have any.

What is the thing most important to you (as far as physical) about the preferred sex?
Go ahead and get the trampoline ready so you can all jump on me about how shallow I am, but I will not, cannot be attracted to a guy who is greatly overweight. A few pounds, yes. Some love handles, okay. Creates his own tides, no.

Do you secretly hate some of your friendsters but are too nice to reject them?
"Friendsters"? Wtf are "friendsters"? Are they a subset of "friends"?
And why am I caught in this "quotation marks" loop? Is there a "12 step" program for this? Will I have to go to "meetings"? And will the "friendsters" be there?
Because, you know, I secretly hate some of them.

If you could have any super power what would it be?
Instantaneous teleportation.
And invisible underwear, of course.

Favorite hangover cure?
Gingerale, with a lot of mustard on the side. Yes, I said mustard. I find teeny bites of it in between sips of gingerale keeps my head out of the toilet.
It does not help me find my invisible underwear, always a casuality of this behavior.

How many drinks does it take to get you drunk?
And exactly why do you ask? Got plans, do you?
Get yer own invisible undies.

Favorite Outkast lyric?
Must I keep saying wtf?

Hair color you most like someone you're dating to have?
I don't know, I guess whatever color corpses have, because the GM1 takes such a dim view of me dating.

If you had to be blind or deaf? Deaf. If I couldn't read or watch tv or movies, I'd probably be driven mad.
Yes, as if I weren't already in the back seat waiting for the chauffeur.

Do you have any psychiatric problems? Why? What have they been telling you? They're just jealous of my invisible superhero underwear.

Are you going to keep talking about your invisible underwear?
Yes, because it's the only schtick I've got so far. Get away from me.

Siblings that should go to rehab? That depends on the rehab. Is there a facility for people who continually need to prove the viability of their ovarian process? And do you want to buy a couple kids?

Least favorite month? July 6th to August 6th. The fun of Independence Day has worn off, and there's nothing on the horizon to get me the hell out of work look forward to until that far-off Labor Day.

First movie you can remember seeing as a kid? The Wizard of Oz. It was an annual Big Deal. My papaw had the only color television we'd ever seen, and every year when Wizard was on, we'd go to his house to watch it. As favorite grandchild, I got to watch it from his lap. We'd always have to go take a potty break during the flying monkeys' attack in the forest, since neither of us wanted to admit it was scary.
I hated the color green all through my childhood because of the Wicked Witch.

Favorite person in the whole world?
The GM1. No question.

When's the last time you went on a date?
Back when it was possible to drive along and see "dinosaur crossing" signs.

Do you like violent movies or dirty movies?
I love violent movies if there's good fighting, like "Kill Bill" or "The Rundown". Both had some great wire-fu battles. As to dirty movies, again we come to definition. If you mean cursing, I could care less. Someone saying "fuck" and "bitch" is fine and dandy. If you mean sex, I don't find it interesting, just boring. It gives me an opportunity to get more popcorn.
So the short answer is "yes".

Fall or spring? Fall, because the wicked little spawns go back to school and it's a lot quieter around my neighborhood.

Is this a long-ass questionaire or what?
I could have driven to Vegas and back by now, yes.

Person you most wish you hadn't made out with?
As if this thing weren't long enough.....

If you are straight, what person of the same sex would you do it with?
What if you're a little bent?

Where do you want to live when you are old and brittle?
Whadda ya mean, when?

Who is the person you can count on most?
The GM1. Poor sod.

If you could date any celebrity past or present, time and age are not factors?
Someone extremely generous. I need another car.

What books have you pretended you've read?
The Lord of the Rings series. Actually, I did read them way back when, but I've forgotten most of it. Thank goodness for the movies.

What's a word you would use to describe your life?
Under-funded.

Favorite drinking game?
Truth or Dare.

What did you dream last night?
I dreamed if I could only find the exact Hotwheels car in this huge pile of toys, I could trade it for 350 threadcount sheets. Truth.

Favorite bands?
Garbage. Bloodhound Gang. Aerosmith. Cheap Trick. Nilsson. Anyone who plays the "1812 Overture" with true feeling and nuance.

Do you think anyone is still reading this?
Nope, not a chance. I quit reading thirteen questions back. This is my invisible underwear typing.

Do you find it difficult to type, being invisible and all?
Nah, I'm a touch-typist. In fact, I'm a touch-it-all, baby.

That's a bit personal, don't you think?
I'm underwear, whadda ya want from me?

Slightly Elevated Date

I want to thank all of you who sent me encouragement and good voodoo during the trying time of my car's illness. Please know he had surgery yesterday and is resting comfortably.
My wallet also had a money-ectomy; apparently it's unhealthy for me to pay my bills. Of course, now my spiritual health in is danger because I'm going to be coveting my neighbor's food and electricity.
In other news, I have sometime during the night been transmorphed into a cat. I have spent the morning coughing up hairballs.
As to the special way I now clean myself, let's not speak of that.

P.S.

I've found the universal email signature:

IMPORTANT: This email is intended for the use of the individual addressee(s) named above and may contain information that is confidential, privileged or unsuitable for overly sensitive persons with low self-esteem, no sense of humor or irrational religious beliefs. If you are not the intended recipient, any dissemination, distribution or copying of this e-mail is not authorized (either explicitly or implicitly) and constitutes an irritating social faux pas. Unless the word absquatulation has been used in its correct context somewhere other than in this warning, it does not have any legal or grammatical use and may be ignored. No animals were harmed in the transmission of this email, although the chihuahua next door is living on borrowed time, let me tell you. Those of you with an overwhelming fear of the unknown will be gratified to learn that there is no hidden message revealed by reading this warning backwards. However, by pouring a complete circle of salt around yourself and your computer you can ensure that no harm befalls you and your pets. If you have received this email in error, please add some nutmeg and egg whites, whisk and place in a warm oven for 40 minutes.

Forward My Calls, Please

Garage called.
Something to do with hydraulics, transmissions, and clutch things.
Something = $1500+.

I'll be on the Coronado Bay Bridge if anyone wants me.

Huh

Let me just say I did not know I had call waiting.
I thought those random beeping events meant my phone was messed up.

That Will Teach Me

I have been sick all weekend. Sick sick sick.
Now I am feeling better. Better better better.
Of course, the universe cannot allow this and as such, everything this morning, has gone to hell.
Hell hell hell.
And it's only 6:00 in the bloody A of M.

1. Got up. Made lovely coffee after seeing the GM1 off to work.
2. Spilled lovely coffee right into crotch. Not so lovely.
3. While cleaning up, stood up too close to edge of desk and clocked myself crosseyed.
4. Cell phone rings. Cannot find cell phone. Where the hell is cell phone?
5. Cell phone stops ringing.
6. Cell phone begins to ring again, with that nagging sound, like a jilted prom date.
7. Still looking for goddamn cell phone... could I have put it in... oh, when I was cleaning up the lovely coffee... oh yeah, there it is.
8. Make note: Do not put cell phone in cleaning cupboard with wet sponges again.
9. Answer cell phone. It is a very VERY cranky GM1. The car has gone tits up in the MIDDLE of the turn lane.
10. Quickly review ever-present list of bankruptcy lawyers I keep in my head.
11. Get tow company number for the GM1, who can be heard screaming "I KNOW IT'S BROKE DOWN, MOTHERFUCKER! TELL ME SOMETHING I DON'T KNOW!" at people who are helpfully honking at him.
12. Work out details of where to take car, which credit card will bear the burden, and all details to remember to tell the dealership.
13. GM1 perks up immediately when he realizes he can get out of work to take care of this. Surely a day off is worth sending us to the poorhouse via the mechanic.
14. Brazilians want me to experience more porn spam, and someone named Chelsea says my penis can be 20% bigger.
15. Realize I have no more creamer for the coffee and must use ice cream carton scrappings. This is obviously why I so wisely returned an empty container to the freezer. Prescient little me.
16. Look up "prescient" three times because it just looks odd.
17. In taking down the dictionary, knock over the ceramic kitty I have on the shelf above the computer.
18. Watch as it falls down to the desk.
19. Knocking over my coffee cup.
20. Which I just refilled.
21. Clean up again.
47. Completely lose the ability to count properly.
72. Cell phone is ringing again. And I'm still holding the sponge. So at least we have a clue as to where the phone is.

Must go, the GM1 needs to tell me why we are moving to Peru to live in a cardboard box, down by the river, eating government cheese.

As In "House"

You are Painting.
You are one of the most versatile of the arts,
capable of creating nearly anything
(abstraction, realism, even narrative) the
other arts pride themselves in. There is some
aspect of you which every other art form
intimately understands.

What form of art are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
(found at Martinis, Persistence, and a Smile)

Clip Clop

I love finding new stuff.
I love really good comics.
So when I found Clip Clop Comix, imagine my happy dance.
(It was a lot like the Snoopy happy dance, without the lovely flapping ears.)

G'wan, go see a couple of my favorites......

Big thanks to the talented Scott Matthews for allowing me to strut his stuff here.

Too Early For This

I am on the verge of doing something... well, two things... I'd said I wouldn't do.
I am about to dump any and all support I ever gave President George Bush, and I am about to write about a political issue.
Let's wait a moment for the lightning to strike, shall we?

Disclaimer up front: I don't really care about polititcs, or the long-range repercussions of this law or that bill. I care about the small picture, how a certain law or bill or action will directly affect me, my family, and my friends.
And then GWB goes and does something incredibly stupid and insulting like this:

"President Bush on Wednesday proposed legal status -- at least temporarily -- for millions of illegal immigrants working in the United States."

I live in a place where you can't throw a dead dog without some illegal alien rushing out to make street vendor tacos of it. We are overrun by all these criminals, and that's what they are. Criminals. Illegal aliens. Not temporary foreign workers without documentation.
Illegal. Here against the law.
Sucking up the resources and benefits that the government blindly offers to them but that a normal, LEGAL citizen can't avail themselves of unless they are on-the-street poor.
Illegal aliens should be, at the very least, shoved right back across the border. I'd like to see the Border Patrol's budget quadrupled, if it would keep them out. I'd like to see Immigration's budget quadrupled too, if it would help ferret out the illegals and boot their ass out of here.

No, I don't have any ecomonic analysis or pie chart or studies backing this rant up. This is how I feel.
If you want to live and work in this country, get the proper paperwork. Get a greencard. Become a citizen. Stop sneaking in and getting away with defying the laws of the land and sucking off the government tit that you have no right to. Stop whining to the ACLU that you're being persecuted.
You're a criminal if you're here undocumented. You deserve persecution.

I'm pissed. I can't be the only one who's pissed. But I'm a native born citizen. I've paid taxes all my adult life. I've obeyed the laws and supported community efforts.
And the government wants to reward me by turning my country over to illegal entities.
Why doesn't GWB just give the reins to the Crips and Bloods? It would amount to about the same thing.

I apologize to those of you who come here for humor and fun. You know I don't do this often. It has to be something close to my heart.... or a sharp pain in my ass.
Guess what this one is.

And Speaking Of

While we're on the subject of babies, might I just say I agree it was dangerous for Steve Irwin to carry that baby while feeding a crocodile.
If the croc had managed to get hold the child, he might have choked on a morsel that large.
Those beasts are darn expensive to replace, you know.

Hot Off The Pwess

This just in:
Kate Hudson and Chris Robinson have just had a little baby boy.
They obviously want the child to be either a gay rodeo clown or the bane of Elmer Fudd's existance.
They named him Ryder Russell Robinson.
He will also be very unpopular in China Japan.

A Quiz Close To My Heart

"The Mercenary"

Which Firefly character are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
(smuggled away from Pixy)

This is the show of all that have been cancelled that I miss the most. (Yes, even more than "Farscape".) Of course I bought the entire show on DVD, but it would have been heavenly if it were still being produced.

Push The Button, Max**

Pylorns was kind enough to find this report on the capture of Saddam by Joe Cartoon. I don't know why the networks didn't have this footage. It's the most satisfying I've seen.

** Three cheesy points to anyone who can name the movie this is from.

UPDATE: Jim of Snooze Button Dreams was the first to answer correctly. And no, Jim, I have no idea what to do with the cheesy points... I just have so many lying around that I fling them at anyone I can. Hmm, must now think of prize... and point accounting system.

Freudian Lingerie

Just woke up. Dreamed I was trying to coax Randy Quaid out of a tree that was mysteriously growing in my sister's childhood bedroom.
He said he'd come down for Cher but not for me.

Radio Flyin'

There is nothing better than finding a great radio station after a long stretch of mediocre listening.
"Creep" at 6AM? Oh yeah, baby. "Bitchin' Camaro" at lunch? Mmmm. "Big Brown Beaver" for dinner? Yes, please.
Thank you, FM94.9. Please please don't let Clear Channel gobble you up.
They already ruined 91X.

Color Me Flattered

Eric, by way of his lovely spouse, has discovered the music of Tom Waits. He points out this song in particular as one that sounds like something your Cheese might have penned the lyrics to. I only wish I had as much talent in my whole body as Mr. Waits has in his growly little pinky finger.
Here, by the way, is a place to find the lyrics for a singalong.
Now, go enrich your cultural life.
Be nice and right click and "save as" to your own computer, so as not to suck Eric's bandwidth dry.
PS... I always thought if any comparison to my scribbles were made with any songster, it would be Weird Al. Perhaps that's just wishful drinking.

Speaking Of Sharing Diseases

Cast a Virtual Pox on someone.
You know who you are.

If I Was Good Enough For Henry VIII....

I am Syphilis. Don't Screw With Me, Or I'll Give You Dementia.
Take the Affliction Test Today!

Best Of Me Symphony Alert

Jim's weekly collection of submitted cream of the olden-days crop, Best of Me Symphony, is now up. Prithee, go forth and readeth it.

Monday Morons

Thank you, 213.24.42.68, for your meaningless comment on a post written back in the stone age, so that you could advertise your stupid product... whatever the hell it may be. What made you think anyone is going to see the comment except me, and what made you think I am dumb enough to go look at your ad?
I love the smell of comment IP banning in the morning.

And Little Less Than A Month Left

I woke up this morning, looked at the clock, and quite literally said out loud, "Only three more hours to football."

When I was a wee sprout, I wasn't a football person. I was a baseball person, in the sense that it was all I wanted to play. Nowadays, you couldn't pay me to watch televised baseball. Basketball has always slightly disgusted me... I think it was all the naked, sweaty armpits. Hockey's only interesting when they fight.

But football has me locked up tight and has thrown away the key. I once quit a part time job because they insisted I work every single Sunday, instead of Saturday, which is just college ball.
The GM1 does not understand why I don't follow college ball. I tell him college football is the audition. Professional football is the end result.

I have players I hate (Kurt Warner), players I adore (Chad Pennington), players who amuse me (Eddie George's perfectly round head), and players who scare me (Orlando Smith, the homicide waiting to happen). I support a team based on uniform colors and whether or not I like the city. Some coaches are the key to my loyalty.... I used to worship Bobby Ross. On the other hand, I despise Pittsburg because the coach looks like he kicks puppies for fun in his off time.
I will like any team that Vinnie Testaverde is on, because his name is the best name to sing-song. "Vinnie Test-a-ver-DEE!"

Football relaxes me. Sometimes I fall asleep watching it, a little boneless catnap of televised massaging, to spring awake when I hear the commentator exclaim about something.
Howie Long is one hot guy. Howie Long could commentate a tractor pull and make it look good.

And the commercials? The best commercials always show up during football, not counting the Superbowl which is like the senior prom of ad time. The catfight over Tastes Great or Less Filling, the Real Men of Genius, the True Budwiser Tales... beer companies should have their own Academy Award category.

There's a lot about football that irritates me, too. More and more sissy rules.... taunting? How the hell can "taunting" be a foul? Increasingly complex regulations, which I try not to let make me crazy but it's sometimes like taking calculus when all I wanted was a nice, easy shop class. And some vastly ugly uniform choices that are just wrong.

But I do love football. It's been about 10 years since we first met, and with luck we'll outlast that whole "freshman relationship" phase and become that old couple sitting on the porch in rocking chairs, every weekend of the fall and winter.
I only hope the old geezer can keep it up.

Any Telekinetics in the Audience? Raise My Hand

I can make the telephone ring any time I want.

All I have to do is get settled down in the bathroom.

I Shook My Head and These Fell Out

1. If I truly want a cup of tea, I should turn on the burner under the teakettle at some point.

2. I spent 15 minutes sitting in line behind a car while leaving the mall parking lot today, bitching about how snarled the traffic is, until I realized the car in front of me was parked.

3. Hot wax on nipples is a lot more interesting in smudgy typeface than it is in practice.

4. I know a person who is filthy rich. I knew him back when he was sending me twenty emails a day about how terrified he was his car was going to be repo'd and how he was sick of working for this absolute Mafia-wanna-be scumbag. Suddenly he turned some sort of career corner and owns his own business and takes first class flights everywhere.

4a. He once offered me a job... "name the salary, anything you want." I turned him down. My foot is still kicking me in my ass.

4b. He owns several pay-per-view live porn video conferencing websites. Hugely profitable. Perhaps it's just as well I turned him down. I'd be fired by now for smartassery.
And handpuppet abuse.

5. Should I have capitalized "and" in the title of this post?

6. My ex-mother-in-law once cut 3 feet off the little spray hose on the kitchen sink and hooked it back up. When I asked why, she said to save water.

7. I stole a spoon from Cracker Barrel once while lunching with my mom. She said I was going to hell. I told her not to worry, it was just a spoon. She said, well, then you're going to spoon hell.

8. Lifesavers should be renamed if you choke on them.

9. I quote Stephen Wright lines to my mother all the time. She thinks I am the most clever person in the world. I don't have the heart to disabuse her of this.

10. Mistletoe over a public restroom door is just wrong.

Bobo's New Year's Choice #2004

Because auld acquiantance shouldn't be forgot.

Auld your base are belong to us.
warning: rather slow load. Age, you know.

What I Thought All Day Yesterday

Shhhhhhhhh!

How can I possibly find the elephant who crapped on my tongue if you keep setting off nuclear bombs in my skull?
Inconsiderate bastards.