Nothing's going on.

It's almost two and all I've done today is watch three episodes of Big Day, two eposides of CSI (Las Vegas, naturally), finished the season finale of the Dead Zone (finally), and I ate a plate of Tater Tots. Then I took a shower and realized I have no business eating a plate of Tater Tots. I think I need to go on that post-holiday diet that SJ was talking about. I've never actually dieted before. (shut up, Jeremy) I've always been a believer that if you stay active you can eat pretty much whatever you want. Apparently though, sitting around for five hours watching TV isn't quite the activity level required for that.

And maybe the lemon-garlic chicken I make with the, you know, stick of melted butter isn't such a good idea either.

Or it could just be all the beer I had last night.

Swim away, swim away!

You guys ever had this stuff? Moose Munch from Harry and David?

Don't do it.

If you ever see a bag of this around, just run away.

Trust me.

The world according to a five year old.

This just in:

Superman is cooler than Santa.

(but have a merry Christmas anyway)

My tree is more lovely than a poem.

So I'm flipping through Rolling Stone magazine (thank you, anonymous Rolling Stone subscription donor) and the kid walks by and catches a glimpse of something that automatically appeals to boys under the age of ten. Butts. Naked butts, to be exact. To make a long story short, take a look at what I saw the next time I walked into the living room.





Yeah, this is what a five year old considers an appropriate Christmas ornament.


Kids are weird.

Friday, finally.

I saw a bumper sticker that said Abortion Stops a Beating Heart and I was all, yeah, but wouldn't it be kind of creepy if it didn't?

In the morning.

You know that great feeling when you turn over in the night and look at your clock and you realize you have like, two more hours before you have to get up? You look at the clock hoping it doesn't say you have to get up in twenty minutes, and when you see it's only four AM you're all happy and you roll back over with a smile on your face.

Well, you know what feels even better? When you wake up and look at the clock and notice that you would have left ten minutes ago if you actually had to go to work today. Then you still get to roll over and go back to sleep.

That's right, bitches, I have the day off. Nice.

Frumpy day.

Those of you who have been reading this sorry excuse for a blog a while may remember what the rain does to my hair.

Well, this morning I had on a jacket with no hood and my day was ruined.

All because of my hair.

Actually, all because the jacket I should have had on was at the drycleaners and when I went to pick it up yesterday I had this whole freak out because I thought I left my wallet at DSW but found it in my car a little later incident and couldn't get the jacket because I had no money on me. Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm a gay retard. Who uses run on sentences.

Sundays always suck

I jut stepped in cat puke. I swear, I don't know why I bother feeding that cat sometimes. I would save time by just dumping the can of food right on the floor. The only fun part is when I hear her making the "I'm about to puke" noise and I see if I can get her off the carpet and to the tile in time. It's kind of like that game Perfection.

I put up a little comedy for you. Enjoy!

My own math problem

A box of See's candy + being alone in the office = bad combination.

Slave driver.

I'm so mean.

My kid is home sick today and I have him doing worksheets.

No slacking off here!

Well, I mean, after we finished watching Superman Returns and Fat Albert.

Hey

Want to hear something gross?

I use the pocket on the back of the passenger seat in my car as a garbage can, and I've been sick so right now it's stuffed full of used Kleenex.

Gross, huh?

Sometimes I wish I had an automatic

So, Turkeyblog likes to bitch about his forty minute commute, well how about my hour and a half drive home today for NO FUCKING REASON AT ALL?

No accident.
No death, no carnage.
Not a single cop or tow truck in sight.

Just fifty thousand fuckers crammed into three lanes.

And FYI, when you call 511 and you say "Are you fucking kidding me?" because they have nothing about highway 85, they respond with "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that."

Don't even bother saying it again, he still won't catch it.

It's a Jungle Out There

I don't care what anyone says, I love the show Monk. I love Tony Shalhoub. I loved him in Wings and I love him as Monk. I love the theme song. (which I don't have, but I would love...)

Some may say I love the show because I have certain things in common with the main character.

Those people lie.




I even love the chick who replaced Sharona, even though her name is Traylor. I figure she was trying to do something unique, and didn't realize that she named herself after something that gets blown away by a tornado.

And I can even forgive her for Son of the Mask.

Barely.

Maybe next time.

I wish New York & Company would stop sending me emails. I keep thinking I have real email.

Be honest.

If there was a $5 rebate offer on your beer, would you send for it?

(much too) lazy morning

I really need to get moving. But this chair is so comfortable.

I saw a Miata with the license plate BVRTRNR yesterday.

Does that say what I think it does?

Oddest thing I've seen in a while:

A sweatshirt that said "I Unicycle for Christ"

But the chick who was wearing it didn't even unicycle! Not for you, not for me, and certainly not for Christ.

Slang

A woman on the radio today called in and said she was "juiced" to have gotten through. I've never heard juiced. I don't like it much. Then again, I don't like much of the slang the young kids are using these days. Or, you know, ten years ago.

I say totally all the time.
I say dude, but only for emphasis. (I won't call you dude)
Never much liked tight.
Hated sick.

I remember when someone said those words to me for the first time. I was wearing a shirt kind of like this:


Only it was cooler, and didn't say "TAG THIS", and it was from Gap Kids so it was actually much smaller. Anyway, some guy tells me "the fish are sick!"

I was confused.

Then he said my shirt was tight and I'm all, duh, it's a kid's shirt.

Turns out, he was complimenting me. Who knew?

This morning on the KFOG morning show they were talking about how cold it’s been in the mornings lately. Irish Greg says “It was so cold in the city that when I was waiting for my train I could see my breath!”
It makes me laugh how spoiled we are here in the bay area. I’m complaining when the temperature falls below 60. God forbid it rains, that just ruins my mood all day long. If it’s not sunny and 80 it’s like the end of the world.

I bet the other states think we’re pansies.

But you know what?

They can go ahead and stand in the snow while calling me a pansy. I’ll be laughing all the way to the beach.

So there.

The three words that best describe you are as follows, and I quote: Stink, Stank, Stunk.

How the Grinch Stole Christmas is on right now. I think this is the earliest I've seen it. Usually they wait until after Thanksgiving, don't they?

I suppose it doesn't matter. Caden watches this in the middle of summer. Which isn't right, or so I've been told.

I still want to know why the Who's have antennas.

When the reality just isn't as good as the fantasy.

I've been wanting a cream colored sweater for so long. I'm picky though, I'd see them everywhere but get annoyed because the collar was to high or the knit was too thick or it was too long or it was too short. I finally found one that I liked. It's really cute and soft and comfortable and cozy and it's shedding cream colored fuzz all over my pants and in my hair and in my throat and all over my desk and it's driving me fucking insane.

I hate this sweater.

5:23pm

Is it too early to put on my sleep pants?



Please say no.

We're all pink on the inside.

On the sign in front of my son's school they have notices for the Asian Parents meeting, the Hispanic Parents meeting, and the African-American Kaffee Klatch. This causes me to wonder:

1. Where's the White Parents meeting?

2. What do these groups discuss in their meetings?

3. What the hell is a Kaffee Klatch?

Tell me, Alanis. Is this ironic?

I'm sure you've all heard about Ted Haggard, right? I'm not going to comment on the story because frankly, I just don't care enough, but today when I walked into the back room the newspaper was open to a big story about him. The quote said "I am a deciever and a liar" and I thought to myself "well, at least the guy's honest."

Then I stopped and laughed at myself.


Also, the quote bothered me because it's so redundant.

And so, the hunter becomes the prey...

There's this man that I see in the parking garage sometimes, and we do the usual hello, how ya doin' bullshit that you always do with strangers that you see often. The other day he mentioned that I was there early. Then he mentioned something about the place I work. A few days later he asked me something about the building I work in.

I started wondering, what if I'm his Fudgelover? Maybe he's stalking me. Maybe he's over there writing on his blog about the girl with the retarded license plate. (because, honestly, my license plate is retarded, but it does help me identify my car in a crowded parking lot, as I've mentioned before) Maybe he peeks into my car to find out more about me.

You can't tell much about me by my car either. Other than the carseat in the back giving away the fact that I'm a mom, it's pretty typical. CD's, Altoids, Kleenex. FM transmitter for my iPod which I hatehatehate. He might wonder about the passenger seatbelt always being buckled. But nothing else would stand out.

Well, maybe the empty beer cans and used syringes.
But everyone has those in their cars, right?

The Halloween Drop-Out

The day before Halloween and I just bought my candy. The pumpkins on the porch remain un-carved. I didn't even consider buying a costume this year and I didn't have a party or even go to one. I'm totally half-assing Halloween this year and I don't even care.

Because at least I have a Halloween squirrel to share with you.

Is one beer ever enough?

It gathers no moss.

Ok, who signed me up for Rolling Stone magazine?

Seriously, it's kind of creeping me out.

Here in CA

it's sunny and 80.

Time

Caden lost his first tooth last night. All I had was fives in my wallet so I told him I heard that the tooth fairy gives you more for your first tooth. I don't want him thinking he's getting five bucks for every tooth.

The hands rubbing together guess was the right answer. I was putting lotion on him after his bath and I was rubbing my hands together Miyagi-style. It sounded so wrong coming from his little mouth.

It seems like I never get anything done these days.

three guesses.

Last night my son said to me:

The faster you go, the hotter it gets.
That's how I like it.

Anyone care to take a stab at what he might have been talking about?

What happened here?

I was looking through my archives, trying to find that post that Ty asked me about and I noticed something.

I suck.*

I used to write so much more. I used to write about all kinds of different stuff, interesting stuff*, even. I'd post more than once a day, and I'd be kind of funny sometimes*. What the hell.

Maybe this is coming to an end. Maybe, after two years, I've finally run out of things to say.

I guess I could always tell you what's in my Tivo.

*Yeah, Jeremy. I know. Go for it.

I love George W Bush.

(I don't want to get in trouble)

**How about this, Scooter**


And will someone tell Gavin to behave himself, please? Damn.

I love a fudge lover and there's nothing you can do about it.

Dude, I saw the fucking Fudge Lover today! I can't believe it. I was walking up to my car and there was the Fudge-mobile, driving away. It was actually quite anticlimactic since I only saw her profile and it was across the parking garage, but hey, I know now that the Fudge Lover is indeed a woman. I'm one step closer to becoming, uh, I mean, knowing the Fudge Lover.

She will be mine.

Oh yes.

She will be mine.

Would You Rather...

Since nobody is getting the point (suicide joke) of my last post, I'll throw this out here. They were asking people this morning on Live 105, would you rather kick a kid or shoot a dog. The response was like 83% for kicking the kid. The girl on the show was getting kind of indignant, saying people value dogs over kids, but I think that people value life over a bruise. I mean, if the question was would you rather shoot a kid or shoot a dog, I'm sure it would be overwhelmingly for shooting the dog. Maybe not 100%, but close, right? I would shoot a dog over shooting a kid, but I wouldn't shoot a dog over kicking a kid. I'd even kick my own kid before I'd shoot a dog. But I wouldn't kick him very hard.

This is how I know Terra loves me.

Email from Cindy to Terra: 6 o'clock is good. But I may be dead in the bathtub.

Email from Terra to Cindy: So you'll be naked then?

Body parts on the freeway.

There's a shoe on the side of 280 that I see every day on my way home. It must have a red sock in it, because it at first glance it looks like it has a bloody foot in it. But that can't be true, right? They wouldn't leave a shoe with a bloody stump in it on the side of the freeway, right? If there was like an accident there or something, they would have taken the foot with them. They would have.

But that doesn't stop me from looking at it and thinking "there's that shoe with the bloody stump in it" every day on my way home from work.

And what if it really was a shoe with a bloody stump in it? What if the cops thought the EMT's grabbed it, and the EMT's thought the coroner took it and the victim was dead, or maybe just unconscious, but I think dead and the shoe just stayed there? Oh, and the other shoe is several yards past the bloody one, but this one's clean. I think a hobo was wandering the freeway at night and was hit. Hit and run, probably. A drunk driver wouldn't stop for a hobo. I think.

It's been there for a couple of weeks, and I always see it, I look for it now. I'm way too into this shoe. I wish they would take it away.

I hate seeing that bloody stump.

(but god damn, I love saying "bloody stump", or did you not catch that?)

I screwed up.

My son has a loose tooth. I want it to fall out, so I told him not to wiggle it because it grosses me out. I know that telling him that will make him play with it more.

The thing is.

It really does gross me out.

Seeing it wiggle in there and remembering what it feels like makes me feel like throwing up.

And now I've handed him all the power.

A poem and some other stuff on a Monday.

In fourteen hundred and forty two
Columbus sailed the ocean blue.
And because he found his way
I do not have to work today.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Dude, these fucking talking dolls are creepy as hell. Amazing Amanda. Yeah, she's amazing all right. Just sleep with one eye open because I can easily see Amazing Amanda standing over you with a knife in her little rubber hand. When little Amanda says no, you better fucking listen. But seriously, do kids really want a doll that says no and poops? What kind of fun is that?

You want to know the sad truth?

Whatever you ground your kid from, you're grounded from, too. That sucks big time.

Be careful what you ground your kid from.

One more day

You know what really pisses me off?

When Ticketmaster sends me an email that says

"Don't miss Guns n' Roses".

That really pisses me off.

Death rides the uh...freeway.

I saw some roadkill this morning, oh man this was some disgusting shit, I tell you. All spread out and bloody. One of those things where you drive through some blood and guts and you're all "gross" then you drive through some more and you're all "oh man" then you drive through even more, and you're weaving all over trying to dodge the carnage and you wonder if it will ever end? And you're trying to figure out what the hell kind of animal it was that would make such a big mess but you can't make out any distinguishing characteristics of any kind of animal you've ever seen before because basically every feature has been demolished and spread all over the road like peanut butter. Crunchy peanut butter.

It was nasty.

I may even go as far as to triple dog dare you.

I want everyone to post a picture of themselves. I'm tired of these half faces, just lips, faces hidden by beer, pictures of necks, all that shit. I want real pictures, a cheesy smile for the camera and everything. And it has to be within the last year, I know some of you assholes will be all "hey, you said it had to be me, you didn't say anything about it not being me at age two."

I dare you.

I snoop. So what.

Today the Fudgelover has a McDonalds cup in her cupholder. (Yeah, I'm going with her, I just don't think a man would have a heart in his license plate) I wonder what happened to the Propel Fitness Water?

It's one of those days.

I just noticed I'm wearing my underwear inside out.

I like manly men.

I found these at the candy shop on Pier 39 a while ago. I couldn't resist them. It was a toss up between these and the ones that said "Just like dad!" but these won.

They make me think of Latigo Flint.

I think he'd go for these. After killing twelve men. With a revolver.

To the lady at the McDonald's Playland:

If you don't like the fact that I tied your kid's shoes then get your fat ass outside and do it yourself. The ground is wet, his socks are soaked, and he needs his (awesome) brown Converse high tops. So instead of glaring at me maybe you could step away from your super sized #3 and pay attention to him.

Stupid.

Love, Cindy

T.G.I.F., huh?

Well, the week is finally over. I had a very hectic week, but the only thing I have to do this weekend is lay around. And, you know, stuff.

I'm putting L.A. County by Lyle Lovett up for Amy. She made me think of it today, and now it's stuck in my head.

Have I ever told you how much I hate Jeremy?

Wednesday driving...?

I've been a sucky blogger.

My dad is in town, I've been busy. Busy watching the O'Reilly Factor and the History Channel. Did you ever want to know how the concept of horsepower was developed? Well, I can't tell you because I wasn't paying attention but I bet my dad could explain it word for word, if you ask nicely. Oh, and use correct grammar, he's a stickler.

Great, now he's watching Benny Hill. I just don't get Brittish humor. I mean humour. I'm going to bed.

Sunday driving.

I noticed something today when I was out. People put the most retarded things on their cars. I saw a Buick with a license plate frame that had fake bullet holes all the way around it. Why would someone put that on their car? What kind of person sees that in the Harriet Carter catalog (I'm guessing) and says "holy cow, this is so cool! I'm totally getting one"? Another license plate frame had dog heads in rainbow colors across the bottom. Kind of like this one, only dog heads instead of paws. That's a total two-for-one deal there. You're like "I'm gay and proud" but you're also telling people "and I really like my dog", right? (topic change) When I did the search for this plate I came across this gay pride website that has pet products. I think it's kind of mean to put gay pride things on your pet because really, what if he's not gay? Don't you think he might be kind of embarrassed to go to the dog park with a rainbow leash or a rainbow tag? Do you think the other dogs hit on him because they think he's gay? I feel sorry for those dogs. I bet they never get any ass. Or uh, maybe they do. Oops.

Another useless tidbit.

Peeked into Fudge Lover's car again. Saw a couple bananas and some Propel fitness water. The travel mug was gone, as was the Ikea tupperware. I think Fudge Lover may be trying to lose the fudge chub. I still have no idea what gender the Fudge Lover is, but I know that he/she works out. Or does aerobics. Or lifts weights. Or plays softball. Or simply likes Propel water and is thirsty for no reason other than liquid has not touched his/her lips in some time.



God damn it all, I love Mitch Hedberg.

P.S. Fudge chub sounds funny to me.

What's up with people who don't think I'm funny?
Seriously, I don't get it.

Come on and lie to me.

I lie to myself about coffee. How sad is that? I know I make my coffee too strong, I have a problem. There, I said it. I have a caffeine problem.

So I tell myself I'm only going to use three scoops this time.
Just three scoops.

But I make two of those scoops big, huge, heaping scoops.

But still, I only used three.

Am I right?

Nothing like Back to School Night to make you feel inadequate.

I'm so altruistic.

A woman apparently collapsed on the sidewalk outside. The firemen and EMT's came to help her and as they were loading her into the ambulance I'm looking for my friend, because he drives an ambulance in this city.

Is that wrong? Yeah. I know.

But I do wonder why the firemen drove their truck. The firehouse is like twelve feet away from where she fell. The end of the fire truck was probably blocking the driveway to the fire station. Why didn't they just run on over? I wonder.

I think the sensei at the Cobra Kai dojo gave his students crank.

This made me laugh.











Is it just me or does it look like Mr. Miyagi is molesting Daniel? Kind of gives a new perspective to the whole "wax on, wax off" thing, huh?

Nonsense

Have you guys watched that show Weeds on Showtime? It's about a suburban mom who sells pot to support her family since her husband died. They just started the second season, but I'm still working on the first season on DVD right now. It's pretty good, you should check it out. It has good music, too; Blue Eyed Son, Sufjan Stevens, The Mountain Goats. They're doing this cool thing with this season, they get a different artist to sing the theme song each week. Elvis Costello, Death Cab for Cutie, etc. Which is great because the woman who sang the song for the first season has a really annoying voice. Really annoying.

The brother in law is the best, he has the funniest conversations. He had this whole discussion about the "taint" which made me think of YoJ, naturally.

Billboards and words.

I know you've all seen the Snickers ads like Peanutopolis and Hungerectomy. Some are cool, some are lame. Nougatocity is lame. Not a lot of words can pull off the -ocity at the end. Travelocity can get away with it, I guess because of the L. But after a T? No. No, Snickers, no.
Substantialiscious is my favorite. I like the way it sounds. I love words that end in -scious though, like:

pervicacious
extremely willful; obstinate; stubborn.

I especially love the ones that end in -iscious, like:

pernicious
1. causing insidious harm or ruin; ruinous; injurious; hurtful
2. deadly; fatal: a pernicious disease.
3. Obsolete. evil; wicked.

and my all time favorite:

lubricious
1. arousing or expressive of sexual desire; lustful; lecherous.

But speaking of the Word of the Day, what the fuck is up with today's word:

small beer \small beer\, noun:

1. Weak beer.
2. Insignificant matters; something of little importance.
3. Unimportant; trivial.

They even put the pronunciation on there? Now, that's lame.

Same to you, pal.

You know that "Blog This!" button at the top of this window? I don't like it. It sounds like an insult. Like if someone said to you "I'm going to eat the last piece of pie" and you replied "yeah? well, eat this!" and grabbed your dick or something. That's how I feel about it anyway.

And on a side note, when I eat these:









I'm not hungry for a long, long time.

Cartoons

Remember that Tom and Jerry episode when they're at a construction site and Jerry starts walking around in a glove and he shakes Tom's hand and then slams him down onto the ground?

That's funny.

See, I do know how to quit you.

I quit the Peevery because I really just can't keep up with two blogs anymore. (read: lazy) I can't even keep my own up anymore, as you can see. So, just a warning, you might see more bitching over here from now on. Like this:

What's with the stupid Sleeptrain Mattress Center? They sponsor EVERYTHING IN THE WORLD. My morning radio show, all shows on TV, even the traffic report is sponsored by Sleeptrain Mattress Center. Are they going to sponsor this blog next? I sure hope so. Because as you all know, they are your ticket to a better night's sleep.

I'm going to lunch. See ya.

Do you want to know what happened yesterday?

I went to pick up Caden from after school care. This was only his second day of school ever, and his first day of the after school care at the YMCA, which is right there on campus. Anyway, I walked into the class and the YMCA girl asks me who I was there to pick up. I say Caden, she immediately tells me that he's not there.

What do you mean he's not here?

She says no, he's not here, someone picked him up already.

Hm. Heart starting to pound now.

She gets on her little walkie-talkie to ask the other girl, the one that goes to collect the Kindergarteners when school lets out. No, she says, the teacher said someone picked him up after class, he hasn't been here.

My hands are shaking as I call his dad to see if he picked him up early. My mind was racing, my sister? His dad? No, they would have called me. They would have called me.

Then the girl says

"I'm sorry, he IS here. I got his name confused with another boy."

Fuck you, you stupid fucking twit. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. If you don't know the kid's names maybe you should verify information before telling a mom that her kid is not there. Do you have any idea how many awful scenarios can cross a parent's mind in a fraction of a second? I hate you, you stupid fucking brainless asshole. Fuck you.

and fuck your stupid walkie-talkie, too.

Ok, here's the 411.

My son is sick. He's got a fever and may be delirious. He's repeating lines from That 70's Show and laughing every time Fez talks.

I might have to get rid of the music thing over there. Streamload/Mediamax isn't working so well. I suppose I could leave Gary Jules up there forever. That would hardly be worth the $10 or whatever I spend on that.

Now he wants to watch Cops because he's never seen anyone get arrested and he wants to see what it's like. I don't know if this is such a great idea. We'll see, I guess.

(oooo, the post already says 8:00. exciting)

For the record...

Butter Pecan ice cream is not good. I realize now (too late) that it's Pralines and Cream that I like. Good thing I didn't buy the big one.

Damn.

Sure wish I had some Pralines and Cream.

Seriously, who takes a picture like that?

So I'm flipping through the Sunday paper, reading the ads and the comics (several days too late) and I see an interview with Ashton Kutcher in the Parade. I'm not finished with my soup so I start reading it. He says he's happy now, doing what he wants to do. He says he was (or is, I guess) the middle child in his family so he spent most of his life trying not to cause trouble. And I'm all, did I just identify with Ashton Kutcher? Fuck.

haha!

I was totally going to update but when I went to choose a song I found Streamload doing an update or some shit. I always change my song when I post so obviously I can't post, right?

I bought an 18 pack of Tecate last week and there are only two gone. I'm slipping in my old age, I think. I had planned on having a few more over the weekend but never got around to it. Have I told you that I don't like to drink beer when I eat? Have I told you that I don't like to drink beer and walk at the same time? Well, drink anything and walk, really. Ok, I really just don't like to walk. Especially all the way across fucking BERKELEY.

So, no song this time. Sorry.

Keeping it real.

I just told my son that my neck hurts and he replied "well, Mom, you're just going to have to deal with that."

How do you think he'll like it when I say that to him next time he falls off his scooter? "Mom! My femur is sticking out of my skin!" "Well, Son, you're just going to have to deal with that." Maybe I'll offer him a bandaid, but that's it.

My kid is an ass.

Obsessed with myself.

Remember when I told you guys about the Fudge Lover? I have become increasingly consumed by finding out something, anything, about the Fudge Lover. I mean, that was over a year ago. I park near the Fudge Lover every day and I have yet to even catch a glimpse of the Fudge Lover. I don't even know if the Fudge Lover is a man or a woman. I've had some ideas thrown at me: she's a white woman who likes black men, he's a gay man, she's a really fat lady who really just loves fudge. I'm starting to think that I will never know.

The other day I took a peek into the car and saw a black and silver travel mug and a tupperware dish from Ikea. This tells me NOTHING. Then I started thinking, I use a black and silver travel mug and I have that same set of tupperware from Ikea. (It was $2, dude, I couldn't resist) So I wonder. Am I the Fudge Lover? I do love fudge. Who doesn't love fudge, you know what I mean? And the similarities don't end there. I will say I've never slept with a black man, but even though it's technically impossible for me to be a gay man, I have taken it up the ass on quite a number of occasions.

That's not true, I've actually never taken it up the ass. I just thought it would be funny to say that. It was funny, right? You were shocked and you covered your mouth. Admit it.

We've got to pray just to make it today.

Yesterday I saw a car with a license plate frame that said

Can't Accept Jesus?

then the plate itself said

DOWNUGO

That dude's not beating around the bush. That's a pretty clear message right there. It was on a brand new E55 though, so I'm thinking I should look into this Jesus thing. Seems like a pretty good deal. Plus, I already have an advantage because the other day I saw a bumper sticker that said Jesus loves me. Imagine that. He loves me. And I've never even met the guy.

I seriously can't post.

I keep starting posts and when I think too much about what I've written I imagine reading it on someone else's blog and rolling my eyes because it's so lame and boring.

Lame and boring.

That is my life.

You don't really want me to post. Trust me. You don't want to read about my cat's birthday, right? You don't want to read about my kid being a smartass. You definitely don't want to read about my masturbation exploits or my penis tattoo.

So just sit back and listen to some comedy.
Laugh for me. I need a good laugh today.

And you wonder why I don't return calls.

It's never ok to begin a voicemail with "I'm glad you didn't pick up..."
and not explain why.

We're American. We always change things to suit ourselves, right?

I say we officially change the spelling of

would to woudl

your to yoru

it's to it;s

the to teh (this one's already in motion, tahnks hax0rs)

oh yeah, and thanks to tahnks.


This woudl greatly improve my typing skills. I appreciate yoru support.

I hate my FM transmitter.

I was zoning out on my way home from work, listening to the radio and not really paying attention to it. Suddenly I realized I was tapping my fingers to Stayin' Alive. Really. Isn't that gross? I hate that song. I don't know how in the world a man can sing in a higher pitched voice than I can.

(Stuff it, Turkeyblog, I don't want to hear any comments about my "operation", ok?)

Hey, show of hands here, when you hear Stayin' Alive do you automatically think of the movie Airplane? I do.

You are SO not my peer.

I have to go to jury duty today. Aren't I the lucky one? So when I don't answer any emails today, don't be offended. Sure, I hate you, but that's not why I won't reply.

I hope I'm on the jury for a person who reminds me of someone I hate. I'll be like "Yeah, she's guilty. Guilty of sleeping with my boyfriend senior year! That bitch is going to prison."

That would be fun.

I was looking at the website, checking my jury status (since we all know I don't need directions to the courthouse, right?) and did you know that you can't even bring your knitting needles in with you? God damn! What am I supposed to do all day?

I'm going to be bored and my cat is going to be cold.

This made me think of Terra.

Music all over the place. Not just in the park.

I went to see Xavier Rudd on Friday. (No Yoj, that wasn't a dream)
It was very cool, of course. A little different this time, since I was driving, but still cool. He even amazes me when I'm sober. I'm putting up one of the live tracks for you to listen to. I'm actually still listening to them, trying to decide which one to use. AS WE SPEAK! We're not speaking, are we? Oh, on the live CD he just said "Thanks for all the good energy guys, it feels great up here" and he said that same thing to us on Friday. What a dick. He's a total liar. I didn't feel any energy there at all. I did, however, smell a lot of pot and sweat. That was gross. They don't blend well.

I'm going to see G Love tonight. Fuck yeah.

and speaking of spiders...

I killed a huge spider this morning. It was huge, and black, and thick. I was walking by and saw it on the baseboard by the front door. I stood there and stared at it for a while, knowing I had to get it but not wanting to make a move. It was like The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly; I could imagine the camera on my eyes, squinting, then cutting to the spider’s thousand eyes, all evil. (come on, whistle the music now) So, I sprayed some Fantastic on a paper towel, which made me feel like I was trying to kidnap the spider instead of kill it. I went a little closer and stared at the spider for another minute. I just couldn’t bring myself to reach my hand out, so I sprayed it with the Fantastic and when it fell to the floor I threw the paper towel on top if it and started pounding it with the Fantastic bottle. It worked. I persevered and the little fucker died. I even dislodged a leg. Which sucked because then I had to make sure I wiped up the body and the limb.

I fucking hate spiders.

It pays to advertise.

So, I keep getting these advertisements from the La-Z-Boy Gallery with their weekly specials and what-not. Stuff like “Hey, buy two chairs and we’ll give them to you for only fourteen thousand dollars, instead of the usual nine thousand dollars apiece” and gibberish like that.

You know, because they’re so expensive.

Anyway, what makes me raise an eyebrow is the flyer that says “Come in now and we’ll give you an extra 10% everything in stock, excluding chairs.”

Excluding chairs? What the fuck. Isn’t that what they’re known for? The chairs?

That’s like The Shane Company saying “Hey, come on in and we’ll give you 20% off everything in our store, except diamonds.” Lame.

Oh, and Tom Shane? You might want to look into a new spokesperson for your company. I know people who practically sprain their fingers trying to change the radio station every time your commercial comes on. We hate your voice. Get off the radio.

I'm such a tease.

I thought about posting but decided just to change my song instead.

Jehro is what would happen if Bob Marley and Jack Johnson had a kid.

Monday, right?

My power went out this morning. I had to leave for work so I don't know how long it was out and I'm scared to drink my milk.

I also tried to take a splinter out of my son's hand this morning but was unsuccessful. He acted like I was trying to amputate. It this just my kid being a pansy or are all kids weird about splinters?

Someone in Fremont loves to look at my blog and has an awful lot of time on their hands. That's all I have to say about that.

Boris the Spider (creepy crawly creepy crawly)

You ever get the feeling that something is crawling on you, so you look at your leg to see what it is, but there's nothing there? And even as you're looking at your spider-free leg you still feel something crawling on you, as if the spider is invisible? You feel it, but you can't see it, so your eyes and your skin are at odds.

What's that about?

Uninspired post

As Duckie so nicely pointed out, I've been lazy about posting. I don't know why, I just haven't been in a place to post lately. Like, my chair, or in front of a computer.
I have been listening to so much Mitch Hedberg lately that I'm starting to think in his voice. Thoughts go through my head and I find myself emphasizing like him. Like, the back of the Lays bag says "Nothing compliments a sandwich like Lays." and I'm thinking "They ain't said shit to me." And anyone who knows me will tell you that I hate the word ain't. Well, anyone who knows me might not actually tell you that. Unless maybe you asked.

I came home from work today and changed from khaki pants and a black shirt into khaki shorts and a black tank top. I'm living on the fucking edge right there, boy.

Living up to my heritage.

Here it is, Sunday evening, and the one thing I hoped to accomplish this weekend (mop the kitchen floor) is still waiting to be finished. Or started.

Things I did accomplish this weekend:

Consumed several beers
Went to see Monster House
Started a small fire in my kitchen
Had a banana split
Watched about four hours of TV

All in all, I have to say it was a pretty successful weekend.
What did you do?

Listen.

People who say 'rita instead of margarita are gay.

Bonus: I can keep the same song up for this post.

I realized two things today.

1. Mitch Hedberg is funnier than I originally thought.

2. When you're alone, watching your kid's gymnastics class, and you listen to Mitch Hedberg on your iPod you look like a fucking idiot.

Let's see if I can make this happen. Try downloading him.

Attempt #1

Attempt #2

Kids are weird.

Tell me something.

What would possess a person to hang a sword from a tiny bottle of Sunny Delight? Then be completely shocked when the bottle tips over and spills all over the kitchen floor?

I mean, it's enough to not be aware that a four foot sword will not be supported by an eight ounce bottle of juice, but why on earth would you want to do this? When did hanging things from beverages become entertainment?

Seriously.

Last night...

She said...

No. She said nothing.

I didn't turn on my alarm clock last night. I checked it to make sure it was set for the correct time, which I do every night even though I know I haven't changed it. Hm. Apparently, just checking to see what time it's set for doesn't actually make it go off in the morning. You'd think so, but you'd be wrong. I mean, the alarm clock should know that you don't check it if you're sleeping in the next day, right?

My hands smell like tuna.

Good god, that sounded so wrong.

The California DMV website states that you cannot order a personalized license plate with the number "69" in it unless you have a 1969 vehicle.

That's a bunch of crap.

I totally want it now, simply because I can't have it.

I wonder how much trouble they had with it that they had to make it a rule? I would love to see how sneaky people tried to be, hiding a 69 reference in their license plates.

Give it a try.

Would you rather be a bullfrog?

I have a question.

Would you rather have a friend think of you as a dick or a pussy?

For example:

Let us say you have a friend who is a member of the opposite sex. Your new girlfriend/boyfriend comes along and demands that you no longer be friends with this person. Do you

a. Dump this friend of four years without a word of explanation, leading them to believe you are a complete dick, or do you

b. Tell this friend what’s going on and risk the friend thinking of you as a total pussy?


**Just to clarify, nobody has asked me to get rid of anybody.

10:25 on a Monday night

So, there's nothing going on in my life.
But for some reason, I feel the need to post about the nothingness that is my existence. As if anyone wants to read about that.

I'm mocking you.

You know who you are.

Trash by the road

On the way home today I saw a garbage can
smashed on the side of the freeway.

I stopped and pondered the irony for a moment.

And then I moved on.

News

UC Santa Cruz approved a new major.

Gaming.

Because that's what Santa Cruz needs.

More stoners.

Sorry I called you Fatty, Fatty.

I just ate my peanut butter and jelly sandwich that I brought for lunch.
Because I'm a big fat cow.

It was good.

Hi ladies.

Sorry I was gone so long, I've been very busy. I had a great birthday weekend, just awesome. Thank you all for the birthday wishes, even if some of you only did it because I said to. It worked anyway. Then I went to Disneyland with my son. I'm so not about Disneyland. I still had fun, but it's going to be a while before I go back. I'd rather go to Yosemite.

LA is weird. It takes a certain breed to be able to live there, I think. Certain things drive me crazy, like the lack of left turn lights. Also, where else can you be sitting in gridlock at noon on a weekday, on a freeway that has like seventeen lanes? Also, the McDonalds across the street from Disneyland is full of white trash after 9pm. Also, it's fucking hot there.

I noticed that a lot of people are ugly. I noticed also that a lot of ugly people have cute kids. How does that happen? It's like the kids take only the good features of each parent. Or something. Since there are some parents with no good features. Milkman's baby? It's possible.

I noticed that a lot of people who shouldn't be showing their feet to anyone but a podiatrist wear sandals. Don't they know? Don't they ever look at their own feet? Haven't they ever heard of lotion?

I noticed that a lot of women wear clothes that shouldn't see the light of day. And show body parts that shouldn't see the light of day.

And hello, my kid is useless. We were in line near this guy who was holding his girlfriend's purse, this small lime green thing. I tried to get Caden to tell him "Your purse is cute" but he wouldn't do it. What good is that kid anyway?

Vacation, all I ever wanted.

I'm leaving here at two and I'm not coming back until July 10th!
Fuck yeah.

I got a cake today. It said "happy birthday Cindy" and everything. So pretty.
I took a picture.

Yes, that was my way of saying "it's my birthday, so tell me happy birthday"...

I'm getting a new water heater today, too. Not for my birthday. Just because.
That's so cute.

Have a great weekend, everyone. Have fun celebrating my birthday and the birthday of this great country of ours.

Have a drink or two. But be safe. For me.

You totally wish this was your birthday party.

I'm alive, see, here I am. Sorry I've been missing for so long, I was busy with my son's 5th birthday party. Doesn't it look like fun?

And no, I didn't go on the water slide. I decided to be old and tired.

Yeah, yeah, I know I suck.


I have nothing interesting to say right now though. Hm, let's see....

I caught a bit of Passions while I was getting a pedicure. That show is rediculous even by soap opera standards. And soap opera standards are pretty low.

Congratulations to Grrrace on the successful expellation of her beautiful daughter.

Whew, this has been tiring. I have to nap now.

So what?

I don't care what anyone says, I totally liked Herbie: Fully Loaded, and I'm not afraid to admit it. It was funny, it was really cute, and yeah, so I got a little choked up when her dad made it out to the race to cheer her on. I'm ok with that. It was a "feel good" movie. And I'm not even saying that in the sarcastic way that I usually do, like, "Have you seen Life is Beautiful? It's a real "feel good" movie." Yeah, if by "feel good" you mean "want to slit your wrists".


And yeah, I realize she's um, lost a little weight, but still.
Lindsay Lohan is cute!

I'm such a child.

I was talking to a customer about our equity loans and how we only do 80% loan to value. Some places will do 100% LTV, and I brought that up to her like this:

"Some places do do..."

(and here, I actually paused, said "do do. heh heh" then continued)

Some places will do 100% loan to value, etc..."

I can't believe I said that to a customer. What am I, seven years old?



(OMG, I didn't have to change the time. I started this post at exactly 3pm. That's so awesome)

Incest is best

I saw a car with a license plate that said "Love our daughter". That's cute, right? Like, they bought their daughter a car and put that plate on it because they love her so much?

At least, that's what I hope happened, not that she got the plate herself. Nobody would really choose that plate for themselves, right?

Anyway, the funny part is this. They used the heart symbol for the word love, so it looked like it said "Harder daughter".

Which is gross. Really, really gross.

Fuck off, Today!

Today is a bad day. Come to think of it, yesterday was a bad day too.

I haven't been to work this week until today, so today is like my Monday. Yeah, I know Cat, it's your Friday. Blah blah. Shut up.

I was home with my son who was sick, so it's not even like I had a vacation. You know how when you spend too much time with someone you get sick of them and you start not getting along? That's what happened with Caden and me. Of course, as soon as I drop him off at school I get all sad.

Hey, I have an idea! How about today goes even slower!

fu
uh
uck.

I don't like stupid movies, but my kid does...

You know what's cool about having a kid? You can put movies like Eight Below on your Netflix list and say it's for him. And no, I won't cry when I watch it.

Even though the preview made me well up a little bit.

We also put Homeward Bound and Free Willy on the list.
Those don't make me cry either.

Pretty much the only funny quote from "Date Movie"

"Just thinking about the honeymoon makes my sack all tingly and shit."


Ok, if I have to be perfectly honest, two other lines made me laugh also. I didn't want to admit that. But I don't want to be a liar either.

Are you threatening me?

I just told my co-worker:

Don't make me blog about you.

Ha. That was the first time I've ever used that threat, and I have to tell you.
It felt good.

It shook my bed.

We had a small earthquake this morning. I just read here that it was only 4.7 on that scale thing they use to measure quakes. I wouldn't have guessed that high, I would have thought maybe a 2 or 3 at the most. I suppose I'm just too used to them? I thought for a minute that it was just my cat jumping on the bed; she's so fat that sometimes when she jumps up it feels like an earthquake. I know, I know, she's not that fat. Whatever. You don't know.

I just want to go on record that I'm posting under pressure. I realize that this post is lame, but hey, I never claimed to be a literary genius. This is so Cat will stop worrying about me. Love you, Cat!

What a man, what a man.

I saw X-Men 3: The Last Stand last night. By the way, that's a bunch of crap because I know that wasn't the last stand. No way they're going to lay this cash cow to rest. Anyway, they ended the movie in such a way as to leave me assuming there would be another one. I'm hoping. I'm not ready to let Wolverine go quite yet. Are you?
After we left, my friend says "oh, no, my friend told me to wait until after the credits because something happens". Thanks, asshole, now you tell me? So, if anyone knows what that is, please tell me. I can't see it again until it comes out on DVD. Not a big movie theater fan, even when we bring beers with us, which we did.


Today I'm watching Brokeback Mountain. Funny, but can you imagine two movies further apart on the manliness spectrum as X-Men and Brokeback? It made me laugh when Heath Ledger said "I'm not a queer" and Jake Gyllenhaal says "Me neither". I'm like, you just had your dick in his ass, how does that make you not gay?

I saw the preview for Superman Returns, too. I think any time you see a trailer at the movie theater it's more exciting. At any rate, a movie I formerly couldn't care less about is now on my must see list. That's funny, like I have a must see list. I also saw a trailer for a movie with Dwight from The Office in it. I love Dwight. (and if you haven't seen them, I watched all the fake The More You Know commercials from The Office, and they're pretty funny. I like this one)

Ryan started the fire...

She's nice, really.

On 6/9/06, Terra T wrote:
why can't you post something about my liver failing? that's so much cooler

On 6/9/06, Cindy wrote:
"Terra's liver is failing because she has ringworm and scabies"

On 6/9/06, Terra T wrote:
i'm going to stab you in the face one day... perhaps tomorrow

On 6/9/06, Cindy wrote:
don't mess up my beautiful face.

On 6/9/06, Terra T wrote:
true, it would be sad. but on the other hand maybe you need to learn a lesson.

Seeing people

I saw a little girl, maybe seven years old, at the park the other day. She was wearing a pink mini-skirt and a t-shirt that said Buy Me Something. She was walking away to talk on her lime green cell phone and carrying a sparkly purse. Is anyone else disturbed by this?

I'll have to make sure my daughter is a tomboy.

Also, a little while ago I head a man talking behind me, he sounded exactly like Ray Romano. I turned to look at him and he was this tiny little Phillipino guy. It was strange because in my head he was Ray Romano. It's hard to un-see something you've already decided is true.

Cat = Cartman

My cat was out pretty late last night, I thought she was never going to come home. I started thinking about how I never say nice things to her and I don't pet her as much as I should. I don't tell her she's a good cat, probably because she isn't, but still. That's not nice. It's always:

Fatty, get the hell out of my way
Fatty, shut up
Fatty, get off my lap, you're cutting off the circulation in my legs
You're such a fat fuck, Fatty, that when you walk down the street people say "God damn it, that cat's a big, fat fuck!"

No, that's not true, the last line is from a really old South Park episode. I haven't said that to her in years. It's true though, she really is a fat fuck. (warning: tangent) And if you're interested in watching the episode I'm referring to, you can see it here. It was the first time I had ever seen South Park and damn, did I laugh. I like it much better when they swear. But who doesn't, right? Swearing is funny, especially in cartoons. The friend who introduced me to this South Park (he brought it over on VHS, that's how long ago it was) was named Swinger, that was his last name, or so I believed. Turns out his last name is Singer, I found that out after about a year or so. What a dork I am.

So, back to my cat.

Nah, on second thought I'm finished with that subject. On with my day.

You look like a monkey and you smell like one, too.

I went to the San Francisco zoo today. It was kind of cold and very overcast and it made my hair quite curly. Fourteen degrees colder than it was in SJ, or so they say. I heard they don't have any elephants there because it's too cold in the city for them. What are they, divas? Come on, now. They're elephants, don't they have thick skin? Bastards. I totally wanted an elephant ride, too. That sounds dirty, doesn't it? Anyway, the lions were sleepy, the penguins were cute. These bears were having fun in the bathtub. We saw a couple of monkeys having sex, that was surprising. Is it wrong that I wanted to cover my son's eyes? Also surprising was the zoo itself. I remember it as bigger, somehow. Maybe because I was smaller. Anyway, it's been years and years since I've been there and it will hopefully be years and years before I go back. Last time I was there I was like twelve or something and a bird shit on my french fries. I was smarter this time and ate my french fries indoors. They sucked. But at least they didn't have bird shit on them. Am I right?

Hello, my friend. Hello.

It's been a while, huh? I've been wanting to post but I really don't have much to say. I still don't have anything exciting to talk about but I figure, what the fuck. Why not.

For dinner tonight I had a bowl of cereal, a piece of chocolate cake, and a beer. Obviously, I had only myself to feed tonight, so I went with the deliciousness.
Then.
I smoked a clove.

Because that's when a smoke tasts best. After supper.

(name that movie, anyone?)

I still don't get the whole wheelchair thing. Probably because I refuse to click it. But if it's for someone who's, say, color blind, wouldn't it make more sense to have it say something like "Hey! If you're color blind and you can't see the verification letters, CLICK HERE!"? I mean, why the wheelchair? Wouldn't that be offensive to someone who needs to click the wheelchair? Like, "Oh, what are you saying, just because I can't read I'm handicapped?" Never underestimate the power of the handicapped. Ah, good old Jim Carrey. My sister used to love that.

Not because she's handicapped or anything.

I've never seen anyone address this subject so here goes.

Why is there a little wheel chair symbol next to the word verification box? I recently noticed it, I don't know if it's always been there. I want to click on it but I don't want Blogger to think I'm handicapped.

Oh no.

What if it's just there for me?

Tell me you guys see it too.
You do, right?

(Hey Grace, I'm posting 2 minutes before 12:30, shhh)

I luv my job.

My brain must not be working well right now because I just made the weakest pot of coffee ever. I went to pour myself a cup and I'm thinking, this is entirely too clear. I'm blaming my cold, on which I also blame my inability to type this morning, as well as my random blabbering about nothing. It's a good thing there's nobody else here who drinks coffee or they would be sorely disappointed in me. I'm disappointed in myself.

I work for a very small company, so when someone comes into the office, chances are I know the person. Just now a currier guy came in that I've never seen and scared the heck out of me. He walks in all fast, heads straight towards me, instead of the counter. Why am I such a pansy? Seriously?

Outlook gave me the greatest tip of the day today:

When you compose a new message, briefly summarize what the message is about in the subject line. That way, the recipient will know what your message is about before they even open it up.

Can you believe how helpful that is? Thanks, Bill.

And now I'm going to eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I brought it for lunch but I want it now. You can't stop me.


**Edit
Then I answered the phone and said my name was Sydney, not Cindy. Maybe it's the lack of caffeine.

Hi, Wednesday

I may have made a huge mistake last night.

I cut my bangs.

I can't decide if they look cute or if I cut them too short and they look stupid. Fortunately, I have enough on my mind to prevent me from worrying about it too much. I'll let you worry about it.

Ok, I'm done talking shit about TT.

I spent the weekend having fun with my kid. I know you all want to hear about it. I just know it. You want to know the cool things about kids?

They don't care how you look
You can totally double dip in the ranch and they won't even notice
All you have to do is make a silly face and they laugh
You can spend twenty minutes throwing a ball back and forth down the hallway and it's fun

We watched Sky High a couple of times. Yeah, kids like to watch the same thing over and over. Kind of like men.


You know, Linda Carter is in that movie and she's still looking pretty hot. I was impressed.

Why do you think she's holding her finger up like that? She obviously wants one, but one what?


One Kelly Preston, maybe?

I take it back.

Terra hates humanity.

Breaking news:

Terra is nice.

Now back to your regular programming.

Tuesday Morning

My son is walking around the house singing Jingle Bells. I don't know if I should laugh or smack him until he stops.

I'm putting a new song up today by Belle & Sebastian. It's my new favorite song and will probably remain my favorite song for at least a week, so check it out. It makes me feel good and it makes me dance in my car.

I'm going to meet Ian for lunch in San Francisco today. If I don't come back, please call 911.

Thanks.

Never give your camera to TT when she's been hitting the bottle.

This picture was on my camera this morning, and I can't figure out what the hell it is.

Any ideas?

There were also several pictures of us doing retard impressions. We're so going to hell.

I can't change my song because Streamload is apparently doing an "upgrade". Fuckers.

I wish I was the moon tonight.

Do you remember believing in wishes? Do you remember the power that came with blowing out the candles or getting the bigger half of the wishbone?

I walked past a water fountain with my son yesterday and he asked for a penny. I gave him two and he stood there with his eyes shut and whispered "I wish I had a dog!" and threw the penny as if it held the secrets of the universe. Then he did the same thing for his second wish; "I wish I was a grown up!"

On the way back I gave him a few more pennies. He was so excited; he said "you're giving me a lot of wishes!" and ran over to the fountain. These were his wishes:

I wish I had a pool
I wish I was a super hero
I wish I had one hundred friends
I wish I had a water fountain (talk about easily influenced...)


(I wish I could believe in magic again.)

(hey Ty, you see that period inside the parenthesis?)

I bought a three dollar brownie.

It was a fucking good brownie.

I don't know if it was worth three dollars but it was pretty fucking good.

Someone tell me

Who is this Sam Hill and why does everybody want to know just what the Sam Hill is going on here?

It's mime time.

Help! I'm stuck inside this invisible box! Look at me, there are invisible walls all around me and I can't get out. I have no alcohol and it's Cinco de Mayo! Someone please help me!









Oh no wait, I suppose it's meme time. I was tagged for this a few weeks ago by Catheroo and I've managed to avoid it with the usual excuses, I'm too busy, I'll do it next time, maybe if I wait long enough she'll forget, etc. Then I was tagged again by Yankee Bob. I figure there's no getting out of it this time since
1. god hates me because I don't believe in him/her/it, and
b. at least I'm not reviewing sappy chick flicks like some other hard ass turned mush pot that we know, and f-u-r-t-h-e-r-m-o-r-e...
I'm too excited to sleep!

So I guess I'm supposed to list six or ten or twelve odd facts about myself. I don't know really, it looks like the people chosen keep trying to one up each other. But since we all know that I've never been what you'd call an over-achiever, I'm just going to start a list and see where I get. And since I'm not at all odd, this list may be very short. The other reason it could be short is because I will lose interest in about six minutes and just post this sucker. Also, I don't like to talk about myself. Ha.

1. I refuse to discuss bodily functions. Don't even try it.

2. My worst fear is dying naked. Well, I guess that's my second worst fear. At least I'm dead at that point, which would be better than being injured naked and having to be rescued by the fire department or something. I have no doubt that my leg could be severed and I'd still drag my bleeding self to get some clothes on before calling 911.

3. I have dislocated my knee in the following ways:

a. spinning in circles
b. playing badminton
c. turning a cartwheel
d. walking backwards (broke my arm at the same time, I'm so graceful)
e. kicking a ball (a big ball)
f. taking a street dancing class (apparently I suck at it)
g. I think that's all?

4. I can't remember my childhood.

5. If you ask me something there's a good chance I just won't answer you. Not because I'm trying to be difficult but because I don't know. If you ask me what I want for dinner and I don't know what I want, I won't tell you I don't know, I just won't answer the question. It's frustrating, I'm told.

6. I don't hold grudges. Mostly because I just don't want to, but also because I will eventually forget I'm supposed to be mad at you.

7. Blood and guts doesn't bother me at all, but that dog come in the eclair scene from Van Wilder made me want to vomit.

8. For some reason Freddie Krueger scares the living hell out of me. Jason I can handle, the Exorcist I can handle, but Freddie Krueger, no way. Scares me.

Yeah, I'm done now. I got to eight and I'm pretty proud of that.
So, just to be a bitch, I choose Cat, Amy, and Triman to do this next.
(#9. I cannot do an evil laugh to save my life. I've actually been told that my evil laugh may be the least evil thing ever heard)
Oh yeah, here's #10. I have to change the time I publish my posts. I prefer it to be right on the hour, like right now it's five minutes to ten but I'm making it say 10 anyway. Runner up is a half hour, 10:30 would be acceptable. Occasionally I will have to make it :45, but only because I don't want to be a liar. But that's it. You will not see my posts at 10:07 or 4:52. If you ever see that call the cops because someone murdered me and is impersonating me on my blog. I don't want to point any fingers but you might take a close look at TerraT...

I forgot to tell you

The other day I saw this blond chick wearing a T-shirt that said "I had a nightmare I was a brunette".

Ew.

I don't know much about this sort of thing.

So maybe you can help.
I went to Triman's blog today and was greeted by a slut with messy hair, right? (pause, while you click the link and check her out)
Ok, ready to move on?
Fine, I'll wait...
...
...
Ready now?
Great.
So, what I don't understand is why the porn girls think that a stoned look is a sexy look. They seem to have those stoned looking eyes, at least from what I've seen on Ty's blog. I don't look at a lot of pictures like these other than what the bloggers leave out there for us. Maybe I'm wrong, or maybe it's just Ty who prefers his girls drugged because they're less resistant.
Or are they really all just stoned?

I don't know these things. Maybe I should do a little more research.

And here's where I dared my sister to peek into the mannequin's pants.

What's your definition of dirty, baby?
What do you call pornography?

Tequila Friday...?

I love my IT department.

Also, there was a beer on my desk when I got to work today. (this is in no way connected to my IT department)
I've never heard of Dead Guy Ale, but the bottle is pretty freaking cool.

Megan would have loved this. She likes pirates. She doesn't work here anymore though, so she's dead to me now.
Just kidding, Megan.

I'm in love with her and I feel fine.

So, I threw away 13 eggs. Cat was right on. I guess she knows me. Interestingly enough, it just so happens that I picked up a little something for Cat in San Francisco yesterday. So, Cat, I guess you DO get a prize! I would have sent it to you anyway, but now I can say it's for the egg thing. I like to pretend I have follow through.

Have you ever thought about the emotions you feel at any given moment? Ever thought about how many different things you can be feeling all at the same time? I like the phrase "conflicting emotions". You should make a list right now of all the different emotions you're feeling. If you can. It's tough. It's also hard to describe your emotions without using non-emotion words. Like "stress" or "defeat", I don't think those are emotions, exactly, but they can be what you're feeling. Or what I'm feeling.

overwhelmed
ineffective
lonely
impatient
excited
lucky
restless
love
hate
sad
happy
is anticipation an emotion?

I think that may be about half of what I'm currently feeling, and I think the majority of those aren't even emotions. It's harder than you'd think. Go try it if you don't believe me.

I'm concerned.

I don't know what I was dreaming about but somehow I removed my sleep pants in the middle of the night.

Sure wish I could remember the dream.

I bet it was good.

Oh, hello.

My son said the other day that he wished he had a rewind button for life. Like we have for the TV. I want that too. I want Tivo for my life. I think I would use the pause button the most. Or rewind. Yeah, I'd like a do-over right about now.

Also, I have some advice for you. If you're out of the office running a really annoying errand on a beautiful, gorgeous, warm sunny day but you know you absolutely have to go back to the office, do not, under any circumstances, listen to Cold Beverages by G Love. When he says "two six-packs and a big bag of ice" you just might lose it. I almost did. Because we all know that t here is nothing better than a cold beer from a cooler full of ice.

Oh shit, I think I just figured out my plans for this weekend.
Me, the sun, and a cooler full of beer.

Join me?

We don't need no stinking bunny.

Caden and I are hunting eggs. I hide them for him and he hides them for me. He likes to point out where he hid them though. It's not much fun for me. I like a little bit more of a challenge.

I wonder how many hard boiled eggs I'm going to throw away. Anyone want to guess? Maybe I'll offer a prize if someone guesses right. I may never follow through though, so don't get your hopes up.

Long live Easter.

I sucked too hard and the tip of my popsicle broke off.

Sitting in the sun, painting my toes, watching the kid run around in the sprinklers. The sleeves of my t-shirt are pushed up on my shoulders and my jeans (yes, my dirty jeans) are pulled up over my knees. Because I can't get any shorts out of the drawer, you know. We're enjoying a break from the rain so I've been outside pretty much all day. I can't really see the screen on my laptop though.

I saw this little bird running along the top of the fence with this big piece of string in his mouth. In his beak? Right. I laughed thinking of him finding this string and being all "SCORE! " He ran really fast and I wondered why he didn't fly. Maybe it was too heavy.

It's nice to have something to look forward to.

*I came back to add something*

Hey, TerraT, remember when you said if we lived next door to each other we'd be alcoholics? Today is the kind of day I'd call you at work and make you tell them you were sick so you could come home and drink beer with me in the back yard.

Easy now

I'm going to tell you something now, I don't want you to be shocked or scared; I don't want you to think less of me. You see, I've been wearing the same pair of jeans all week. I know, I'm disgusting. I know this. But listen, it's not my fault! I haven't been able to get to my jeans. Oh, you think this is a feeble excuse? Whatever.

Right now, my armoire is up against the back of my dresser in the middle of my bedroom. I keep my jeans in the drawer at the bottom of the armoire. I'd have to be much stronger than I actually am to be able to move that shit out of the way. You all know I can barely open the drawer to get the jeans, much less move a dresser. Yes, I really am that weak. I have so little muscle that I belong in one of Triman's cartoons. I've been lucky to be able to get any clean underwear and socks out of the dresser! God forbid I have to put a pair of socks back on that I've already worn, right? Then they're all stretched out and baggy. Makes me ill just thinking about it. I haven't been too upset about the jeans thing because I keep thinking that the next day will be the last. Oh, the painters are coming Monday, I should be able to get my stuff out Tuesday. No, they're coming back Tuesday, ok well I can wait until Wednesday. Ok, they didn't quite finish but they're not coming until Thursday. All of the sudden I realized I'm going to be wearing these jeans forever. (I wish I could put Forever in Blue Jeans on my music thing, but I recently used it, damn)

Anyway, I just felt I should get that off my chest. I feel better now.
Don't you?

Monday

I'm feeling very bitchy today.

Note to self: Use tripod

Here it is already the ninth and I don't even have a picture folder for April. Granted, it's been raining the whole month but that's no excuse. It makes me happy, I should do it more.

Um, and by "it" I mean taking pictures.

Sheesh. You guys have dirty minds.

Funniest thing ever

My four year old playing the air guitar to Alan Jackson's Chattahootchie.

This is the lamest thing I've ever seen.

Word of the Day for Sunday April 2, 2006

defenestrate \dee-FEN-uh-strayt\, transitive verb:
To throw out of a window.


Yeah, stupid. Why wouldn't you just say you threw him out the window?
Blah blah blah.
Show off.

Dinner music

So I'm putting dinner together tonight and the TV is on, unwatched as usual. The Brady Bunch comes on, I'm like oh that's cool, the Brady Bunch. I'm listening to it, going on with my cooking. Cindy Brady is running around chanting "I've got a secret", ok that's annoying. Then Mike Brady invites Carol to sing along with him while he plays the ukulele. Oh no please no oh god not that anything but...
Fuck.
Now I've got the very annoying

I want to be loved by you
by you and nobody else but you
I want to be loved by you
alone

stuck in my head.

Fuck you, Florence Henderson. Take that fucking ukulele and shove it up your
Wait, that isn't very Christian-like.

Oh yeah, I'm not Christian.

I wondered how confused people would be if I left a suicide note that said "FUCK YOU, CAROL BRADY" and blew my brains out. I bet my sister would become plagued by it, she'd spend the rest of her life trying to figure out how and why the Brady Bunch drove me to suicide.
Consider the irony in this:
She obsessively watches every episode of the Brady Bunch, forwards and backwards, trying to decipher the meaning of my suicide note. She comes across the vile ukulele episode, watches it several times, sensing that this episode was somehow responsible for my death. She wearily switches off the TV, resigned to never unveiling the truth. Two hours later, with "I want to be loved by you" running endlessly through her head she writes the following note:

I understand now.
Cindy, I will be with you soon.
FUCK YOU, CAROL BRADY

and blows her brains out.

Two lives destroyed by the evil combination of the ukulele and Florence Henderson's voice.

(and believe me, I toyed with the idea of putting that song up to go with this post but I thought that would just be too mean. So this one goes out to you, Florence, with all the love in my heart)

Cowboy up

I just saw a man wearing a sarape and a cowboy hat walking down the street in Redwood City.
Oh yeah.

No Cliffs Notes this time

I finished One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest the other day. Believe me when I say it's much more enjoyable when you don't have a test in three hours.

Now I feel like I should watch the movie. I heard it's one of Jack's best.

Margarita Wednesday.

Frozen alcoholic beverage, anyone?

(guess what I'm doing tonight)

Monday night

Am I a dick because I won't let my son win at Candyland?

I saw a werewolf drinking a pina colada at Trader Vic's.
And his hair was perfect.

Self control

The copy machine repair guy just took off his sweatshirt and I had such a hard time keeping myself from saying

bow-chicka-bow-bow.

I didn't wash my hair all weekend.

So I have this shampoo that has all the instructions written in six different languages. I think that's pretty pretentious for a shampoo. I'm used to seeing two, maybe three, but do I really need to see "lather, rinse, repeat if desired" written in six different languages? I mean, they don't really expect me to believe that they use the same bottle in six different countries. Because I'll tell you, if I'm in Italy and I see my language is the third one down, I'm not going to be happy.

I'll be honest though, the word "farbpflege" makes me giggle every morning.

Pop Rocks on a frog king

Remember like six years ago when I was promised some art from YoJ? Way back when there was a YoJ?
I finally got it, a painting called Pop Rocks. I put it up on my favorite shelf to admire all day long.

"Balls, balls, said the Queen. If I had two I'd be the King"

No reason at all for that.
Happy Tuesday.

Pressing issues.

Cadbury creme eggs.
We either love or hate them.
Tell me how you feel.

wish, dish, swish

If I found a genie I'd wish for health, intelligence, and wealth. Then I'd think it would be cool to wish for something else that rhymed, and maybe wish for stealth just to make them the same.


**This post brought to you by the letters T and L, and by generous contributions from viewers like Triman. Who's bird flu post you should all go check out. Now.

Just wondering

Does anyone know how much heroin costs?

What decade is this

I finally looked into the 90's music playlist that showed up randomly on my iPod. (Does everyone have this, I wonder?) Amazingly enough, it had all the 90's music from my iPod on it. I know, weird, huh?

Anyway, it started me thinking. There's 90's music, there's 80's music, there's 70's, 60's, 50's, all the way down to the 20's. Do the Charlston, I dare you.

But what do we call this decade? What will they say in the year 2025 for the music of this decade? All the indie rock, the sound of the times, what will we say? The music of the tens?

I don't think so.

P.S.
I usually try to match my song to my post but Ana Ng came on while I was typing this and I just felt like sharing.

I still hate Sundays

I looked and looked but I could not find a single song sung blue growing in my garden. Neil Diamond is a god damned liar.

Doesn't anyone do HNT anymore?

Mercy killing

I'm on my way home from the mall the other day and I see this on the car in front of me:

BLCURAH

(I'll give you a second to try to figure it out)

Yes, this was on the back of a black Acura. I felt like I was being mocked. My first instinct was to jam my foot into the accelerator, smash into the back of the car, throw it in reverse, smash into it again, over and over until the license plate was crushed beyond recognition. It would so be worth totalling my car to kill it. And the cop showing up at the scene would probably let me off because he/she too would feel mocked, maybe even make the other guy pay for the damage. Especially since some other Californian with bad taste got to BLACURA first and this poor asshole had to use an "H" on the end, which makes it even more pathetic.

It was a good plan except for one thing. I forgot about the plate on the front of the car.
Crap.

I need a lobotomy now

I had a dream about Eva Longoria last night. It was kind of a dirty dream. I'm very disturbed by this and I don't think I can watch Desperate Housewives ever again.

I am not a lesbian!

Take it back

For a limited time only, the Peevery is going old school.
Apparently the tech guys at Movable Type do not respond to Michelle's threats of bodily harm. Maybe they have a zero tolerance policy, like not negotiating with terrorists or something.
Anyway, to prevent several bloggers from spontaneously exploding from pent up peeves, we're re-opening the old Peevishness and Botheration.

I'll keep you updated.

There's more...

I started the Elvis glasses blog.
I haven't put them all up yet, but at least it's started.

Ladies and gentlemen:

The Elvis Glasses Project

I added a link on my sidebar, it will be updated as the pictures come in.
(or as I get off my ass to put them up)

Dude

I just watched a pot and it totally boiled.

Next thing you know I'll be teaching an old dog new tricks.

That's right, I'm a fucking revolutionary.
Follow me into the light.

Houston, we have a problem

Just an FYI, the Peevery is having some technical issues right now. This should be resolved soon, if only because the tech support crew is probably already sick of hearing Michelle swear like a sailor.

Cindy The Lou

I want to cancel my AOL account. They're charging me $25.90 a month now. $300 a year to use AOL? No thanks. That's too rich for my blood.
Isn't that a weird phrase?
Anyway, I think I'll start using my gmail account that's been sitting unused for months. I like free stuff.

I've just been too lazy to switch until now. How the hell do you get your whole address book over there?
What a pain in the ass.
It might very well be worth the money to just stay and not have to deal with it.

Oh shit.
I don't like the way that sounds.

I'm switching.

Nightlights

Do you know that when I stand next to a bed I'm worried that someone's going to reach out and grab my ankle? And I still leap on and off the bed when the light's off. When I reach into a dark room to switch on the light I'm convinced something is going to grab my hand and pull me into the room before I get the light on. If the power goes out at night you very well may find me curled up in the corner when the lights come back on. And if I'm walking across a dark room I need you to talk me to the bed. I start to feel panicked.

I have no idea why this is.

What's this?

Oh, do I have a blog or something?
Am I supposed to like, write on it?
Update every so often, something like that?

Oh yeah. I forgot all about that.

Lunch and nothing to talk about

Stupid KFC gave me a spork. How am I supposed to eat a salad with a spork? I guess that's what I get for trying to eat a little healthier. Maybe that's their plan, make it so annoying to eat your salad that you end up throwing it away.

Haha, I showed them.


(I know. Lame. But I have nothing to say today)

(shut up, Ty)

Rated PG-13

Remember on Monday when I said I just ate the biggest banana ever? I was serious, look at the size of this banana. I bought three, three of the hugest bananas I've ever seen.








Look how big it is compared to these apples.

Is that not the biggest banana you've ever seen?

Settle this.

Tell me, smart people, is this

<3

supposed to be a heart or boobs?

Always bet on black. Or red. Always bet on either black or red.

I'm sorry for leaving you, my pretties. I had to make an impromptu trip to Vegas. I know, poor me, right? Ha, yeah, poor me NOW since I lost all my money. I just don't know when to walk away. Actually, that's not true. I know exactly when to walk away. I just don't do it. I had a lot of fun losing all that money though. It's worth it. Right? I also left my pants in the hotel room. I'm more upset about losing my Old Navy khakis than I am about losing $500.

I came up with some good phrases though, inspired by the losing of my pants.

"I lost my pants in Las Vegas"

"What you wear to Vegas stays in Vegas"

"CSI: Las Vegas couldn't find my pants"

"Leaving (my pants in) Las Vegas"

Ok, I admit those are lame. But seriously, it's pretty amusing to think that I actually lost my pants in Las Vegas. And not even in a good way.

I'm a little evil

My phone rings this morning at 9am and I see TT's # on the caller ID.
My first thought?

"Why would Terra be calling me at 9am? Maybe she needs me to pick her up from jail."

I'm a terrible friend.

Although, I would have picked her up if she needed me to. I would have laughed and pointed, but I would have done it. I like to have dirt on my friends.

Apparently she was sitting on her phone or something, because she didn't talk and I think I heard the radio in the background.

Or maybe it was her new cell mate.

Lunchbox

I had a sandwich from Erik's Deli Cafe for lunch today. It was called the R.E.O. Speedwagon. So, guess what I've had stuck in my head all day.

Yeah.

I just got back from having pizza. Sure hope the same thing doesn't happen. I mean, I like the song That's Amore and all, but I sure don't want to be singing it all night.

Impression Tuesday

Words, words, words. We all know I like the writers.

Don't worry though, it's ok if you can't write. I'll still read your posts as long as you send me naked jpegs or talk dirty to me on the IM. If you're reallysuperhot I'll even let you post on my blog.

But listen.

If you can't entertain me, I need to know. What's your excuse?

Because...it's all about me.

Isn't it?

(lyrics to)
Love Hungry Man

You're the one I've waited for
I needed love more and more
I don't know what your name is
I don't know what your game is
I'm gonna take you tonight, animal appetite

I'm a love hungry man

I don't need a conversation
I just want sweet sensation
I tell you what I'm gonna do
I'll make a meal outta you

I'm a love hungry man

Sorry, but we have certain expectations.

Stupid Terra.

You take a girl out, you buy her drinks, you drive her home.
She still doesn't put out.

WTF?

I think I should have received something in return, don't you?

So, what does the "G" stand for?

My friend says it stands for "Good". Good Love.
My sister thinks it means he gives the g-spot plenty of love.
Whatever it stands for, this guy rocks. He played so many good songs, although I didn't get to hear Booty Call which disappoints me greatly. He sat and played Blackbird, that made me happy. He also threw Take a Walk on the Wild Side into the mix. It was cool. He is an amazing musician. Plus, I'm kind of a sucker for the harmonica.

Unfortunately there wasn't nearly enough light to get a good picture. This will have to do.

Now I must go try to get this stupid W stamp off my hand.

Sorry, can't talk now.

I'm drowning myself in books and music.

This is important.

Will somebody please tell me why people like Journey?

Vans make cool shoe prints in the sand.

I went to the beach by myself today. It was a beautiful, sunny day. The water sparkled. The sun warmed my hair.

And for the first time in my life

I didn't want to be alone.

Friday 10

Well, this is it. I'm going to bed. I got to ten, but at what cost?

I would like to thank Deryke for his invaluable support through this day. He has been my biggest cheerleader and for that he will always have a special place in my heart.

Well, that and the fact that he named me DJ Funky Lou.

Friday 9

Ok, I've calmed down a little bit.

Friday 8

You stupid son of a fucking bitch.

Friday 7

When was the last time you watched The Dark Crystal?

You might remember it fondly, but it really sucks.

Friday 6

We ordered pie for dessert tonight.
Caden took a bite and said "That's what I'm talking about".