I may not buy the best marbles, Furious Ball, but I sure can use them!

How much fun can you have with an empty room and a bag of marbles?



No furniture means you can throw them all over the place.









That clear one bounced straight into my camera just after I snapped this picture.







Starting to get bored....







So, the answer is:

A lot! But clean up sucks and you will find marbles all over the house for the next week or so.

I knew it was coming.

But I still wasn't prepared for it.

My son figured out that there is no tooth fairy. I know he's at that age, and I know it's normal, maybe even a good thing, but it's still sad to me. I love that he's getting older and we have great conversations now (and sometimes really odd conversations, such as the other day when he asked me what I would do if I had someone in my life who could make things out of duct tape) but sometimes I wonder where my baby went.

And I know this means that the whole Santa thing will be coming up soon, and I'm so not ready for that. I might have to ask him to fake it for me, just for one more year. I'm not above that. I'll promise extra special presents if he goes along with it and everything.

Maybe even cash if he agrees to wearing feety pajamas.

Damn you, Michael Ian Black!

Damn you for challenging Tucker Max to a fight. Damn you for telling me that Tucker Max's book is the #1 seller in the humor category on Amazon, which led me to believe it's funny. Damn you for making me finish this book even though I really, REALLY don't want to. Ok, that last one is my own issue, but I'm happier blaming Michael Ian Black for my problems.

Seriously, if there are any 19 year old frat boys reading this who want me to send them the book, please let me know. Because you are definitely the target audience for this book. It is page after page of "Dude, my friends and I got really drunk, and then we acted like complete assholes, and then I fucked some random chick. The end." Sure, there's stories about blow jobs in there, and some arrests, and more vomit/shit/piss than anyone could be (or should be) comfortable with. This is one blog-turned-book that never should have happened. And what kind of a name is Tucker? Your parents really wanted to drive home the importance of making your bed, Tucker?

I hate myself for wasting my time on this. But I can't give in. If I stop reading this book before the end then the terrorists win.

Def Leppard: Love Bites is on the radio right now.

I saw a license plate this weekend that stated "I love doves."

Weird, that one.

And one this morning that simply said "oregano."

People around here have odd interests.

Not that I don't dig oregano. I do. I just wouldn't proclaim it on my license plate. And sure, doves make a cute cooing sound, but even that gets old after a while.

Hard core.

I saw a lady at Longs a little while ago that you wouldn't believe. She was about 70 years old and her cart was filled with vodka and adult diapers. I swear. Three big old gallon jugs of cheap vodka and like six packs of adult diapers. I guess there's something to be said for knowing yourself. If I knew I was going to drink myself into oblivion and pee the bed, I might be inclined to make the same purchases, I don't know. I'd at least have a little shame though, and not be holding up the line to have the stock boy check for more vodka in the back. That's just plain greedy, grandma.

You know what?

I had a really good weekend.

What I should have said was nothing.

So this guy calls me yesterday from the Chamber of Commerce. We get our labor law posters/books/pamphlets from them and he was calling to let me know about a new product that they have for the human resources department. I explained that we don't have an HR department, exactly, because we only have four employees here. Ah, yes, no need for this interactive website then, I see. I let him know that we make sure we have the correct posters displayed and that we hand out the correct pamphlets once a year, but beyond that we don't really have any HR issues wth the staff. Then I said "We're over here..." and I trailed off because I realized I was about to tell a representative from the Chamber of Commerce that "We're over here sexually harrassing each other all the time." and I didn't think he would find that funny at all. For once in my life my filter worked. Great success.

You know what I was just thinking?

I was just thinking that I'm kind of stupid. Every year I go see Lyle Lovett in concert. And every year he talks about hanging around Saratoga, going to the restaurants, meeting the people. And never before has it even occurred to me that I should go down there and look for him. Not until today, when I was driving home from work and Creeps Like Me came on my ipod. He's already gone, but maybe next year I'll remember.

Maybe next year.

I have something to say.

What was it again?

Um, I forgot.

Not because of acid reflux, either.

I was thinking today, as I drove home, what if you went to a karaoke place and went up on stage but instead of singing you just moved your mouth like you were lip synching? Would anybody get the joke?

And don't ask me why I think of such things. I just do.

never,

ever buy mentos from the liquor store over by the crack hotel on Broadway.

because fruity mentos should never, ever crack in two when you bite into them.

mentos don't crack.

people crack.

I'm all hopped up on the Sudafed...

And I can't tell if I like it or I hate it.

I'm a little shaky. I'm clenching my jaw like the tweakers do. I talk without knowing what I'm going to say until the words actually leave my mouth, which led me into a weird conversation with my co-worker about teabagging. I think I'm hungry, but I'm not exactly sure. I can't finish anything I start.

But hey! My nose isn't running!

No wonder they keep this shit locked up, huh?

I just needed some lactobacillus rhamnosus!

I stopped by Whole Foods today for a minute, and as I was waiting in line I saw one of those hippie mom magazines proclaiming "Circumcision does not prevent HIV."

And I think: Really? This was up for debate? I sure hope they didn't waste a bunch of my tax money on that study. I'm pretty sure every third grader in America knows that.

Because honestly, how could circumcision prevent HIV? Before I started this post I looked into the whole thing (a little bit) and saw that some people believe it can reduce the risk of HIV. But reduce the risk and prevent are two completely different stories. Also, I think Africa should take all the help it can get when it comes to HIV. That goes for you too, Haiti. If it helps, awesome. But how are they going to prove it? Seems like a really difficult study to keep under control. Seriously, like, I'm talking about the actual control group. Sucks to be them, am I right?

Anyway, my point is not whether or not circumcision can prevent/reduce the risk of HIV. My point is this:

Stay the hell away from Whole Foods market. All that hemp clothing and unwashed hair and Birkenstocks. I barely survived. And my kid wouldn't eat the damn yogurt anyway.

Addition.

My house number is 1827.

The 1 and the 8 add up to 9.
The 2 and the 7 add up to 9.

This makes me happy.

Is that weird?

Children's Cancer Research.

How do they know? How do they know that if they send me something I'll feel guilty and send them money? I don't really need seventy thousand return address labels, but sometimes they're actually cute. I prefer the ones that don't say Ms. before my name. I sent in some money a month or two ago for some cute summery labels, but they said Ms. Then a couple weeks ago I get some new ones with no Ms. and I feel bad using them without donating, so I did. Then yesterday they sent me a fucking calendar! A calendar! Sure it's got birds on it and I'd never use it, and never mind that fact that it's July, so by January it will be lost. I think it's just plain rude, guilt tripping me into sending money to save children from cancer.

Selfish bastards.

I walked into a door, fell down some stairs, anything!

Don't you think that if you go to a social function with a big bandage across the side of your face that you're morally obligated to tell people why you have a big bandage across the side of your face? I mean, you know people are looking at it, you know people are coming up with their own ideas which are probably way worse than the actual story. Just tell the reason and be done with it. It's your duty.

I'm not saying I want to hear the story behind every band-aid, but when it's something on your face or your neck, basically anything above the shoulders, I think you have to tell people how it happened. You just have to.

And if you don't...

I'm going to blog about it.

Mondays

Don't you hate it when you go downstairs to get that first glorious cup of coffee only to find that all you have made yourself is a nice hot pot of water because you forgot to put the coffee in the coffee maker?

I finished my book today and had a mild panic attack when I got home and saw that my Barnes and Noble order hadn't been delivered. I usually have back-up books. This time I was unprepared. I hated me for a little while. Because:

I actually read a Maxim magazine at lunch because I had nothing else to read. I read the magazine from USAA for crying out loud. That's how desperate I was. Then I head it. The gate opened. The doorbell rang. I praised the lord. Really, I praised him. Hallelujah.

Not really. But I may have praised UPS a little bit. Then I started a new book.

Happy.

Where is the love?

You know, I'm kind of pissed off that nobody told me about the tomato issue. I love tomatoes. Everybody knows I love tomatoes. Yet nobody told me I shouldn't be eating tomatoes because I might get salmonella. I just found out today.

Real nice, guys.

Cliffhanger.

I'm going to tell you this story, but you have to guess the end.

Don't worry, it's easy.

So, I'm at Michael's (the arts and crafts store, this is an important point to the story) and I'm picking out some scented candles for a baby shower prize. My son and I are smelling them one by one and we get to one called Tea Rose. I asked my son how it smelled and he said ok, so I smelled it and promptly made a face and said (quite loudly, I'm ashamed to say) "Ew, that smells like old lady."

I immediately clapped my hand over my mouth and turned around to see...

I was there, I promise.

The only proof I'm going to have that I actually did things with my son while he was growing up is the fact that I took the pictures of the activities.

Check IMDB, seriously.

I saw a license plate frame today that said: We have god to thank for a wonderful life.

And I'm all, I thought it was Frank Capra...

Pete and Repeat sat on a fence...

1. Putting your left arm out doesn't give you the right of way. Especially if you're on a bicycle, because you really won't win.

2. Do you think snails get really frustrated when they try to run away from people? Like in their heads they're screaming "COME ON! COME ON! WHY CAN'T I RUN FASTER?? SHE'S GOING TO STEP ON M..."

3. Whenever I hear a really loud, obnoxious motorcycle (yeah, I'm talking to you Harley Davidson) I have a quick fantasy of shooting the person riding it.

4. I saw a car with the license plate "ROTARD" and I've adopted it as my new favorite word.

5. Does this picture make you laugh as much as it makes me laugh?

I'm doing just fine on my own, but thanks.

Today I was invited to a Penetration Webinar.

And I'm all like, woah, Visa, back the hell up.

I'm not that kind of girl.

It is free, but still.

No doubt.

I like how open minded we are in our dreams. We accept everything as real, no matter how far fetched or ridiculous it may be. We don't stop to consider that the beautiful flying monkey couldn't possibly be real, we just enjoy it as it happens. We don't stop running just because vampires don't exist, we know in our hearts that if we stop running we will die.

When I found out that the twins I had aborted had survived and my boyfriend's mom (who performed the abortion) was raising them as her own I didn't stop to consider how exactly a four month old fetus could survive, I just knew I wanted my children back. And when that big ghost man was playing his music box to lure children out of their rooms so he could steal them I didn't say to myself "that's not possible", no. I crawled into bed with my son to make sure he didn't go outside. But when I woke up from that dream, convinced I had just heard that same song, I talked myself out of actually getting into bed with him because that would be crazy.

After I went to check on him and make sure he was still in his bed, of course.

Made me laugh.

Revisiting personalized license plates.

You know how here in California you can put a symbol on your license plate? You can chose from a hand, a star, and a heart. Well, a lot of people (girls, I assume) put their initials and then the heart and then the initials of their husband, to flaunt their love, you know? Like CDH heart MKH, or something like that. I saw one today that said HPY heart TOY, and I'm guessing these people have a last name that starts with Y but it looks like it says happy love toy.

Which is way better.

Not even Chopsticks.

Listen guys. I hate to be mean, but I have to put my foot down. I'm making a new house rule. If you don't know how to play the piano you cannot touch my piano. I know it's tempting. I know it's fun. But don't break the rule. Rule #1 might be Respect (or no TV before school, I'm not sure which) at other people's houses, but here it's going to be If You Don't Know How To Play The Piano You Cannot Touch My Piano. I'm not going to put up a sign or anything, because that would be rude.

Right? That would be rude?

Damn. I thought so.

Ok, no sign. But I am going to leave the piano closed from now on. It's not because I don't trust you guys, it's because...well...ok, I don't trust you guys. No offense. But it really, really grates my nerves to hear someone almost playing Heart And Soul right, but not quite.

Can we also agree that knowing the pattern to Mary Had A Little Lamb, but not knowing which key to start with does not constitute knowing how to play the piano?

Thanks.

Tick-tock, Fatty.

So, I'm cleaning out the litter box and the phone rings. I go answer it and two minutes later when I get back to the bathroom my fucking cat is shitting in the half-cleaned litter box. I told her "You're an asshole, Fatty" but did she care? No. It's bad enough that I have to go sifting through the litter for her shit, now I have to pick it up still warm from her furry little ass. Oh, and don't worry about covering it up, Fatty, oh no, I'll take care of it! You just go eat some more food, fat ass. And please puke this time, spread the love. It smells great.

Isn't she supposed to be dying? When is that happening, again?

Hypothetical question...

How many drinks does it take for you to start thinking that Swedish Fish shots are a good idea?

I will tell you this only because I care about you: The alcohol makes them even harder.







(that's what she said)

Captain Backfire

The worst part about intentionally trying to get a bad song stuck in someone else's head is when you get it stuck in your own head as a result.

Never gonna give you up
Never gonna let you down
Never gonna run around and desert you

Never gonna make you cry
Never gonna say good-bye
Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you

**Edit. Must add link to be a proper Rick Roll. Thanks for the education guys!

Scarred.

I love the Dresden Files books. Love love love. I want to sleep on the books and wear the books for clothing and eat dinner with the books and possibly marry them and have baby books.

Have I told you how much I love these books?

The characters are interesting, the stories are full of action, the main guy is as sarcastic as they come. They make me laugh. Plus the whole wizard thing? I really do not want to put this book down.

The past books I read were special editions that came with a special book jacket and they all match and look so pretty together on my bookshelf. The latest book was just released so I got the regular hardback with the regular jacket (thank you!) and for the first time I was subjected to a picture of the author.


I don't know if I'm ever going to get over this.

Don't tell Terra. She'd be so disappointed in me.

Who wins?









VS

Kissing trees

These trees in my yard have grown together in two places.

This is the kissy part.

You don't even want to see the other part.

Dear The Dixie Chicks:

I hate to be the one to tell you this, but "think" and "Hank" do not rhyme.

Please re-write.

Thanks.

Personally, I always thought the devil played better than Johnnie.

But that's just my opinion.

I'm sitting outside in the sun right now.

And one of my neighbors is blasting Moonshadow by Cat Stevens. I mean blasting it. I could hear it even when I was inside the house.

If you're going to play it loud at least make it a worthy song. Now, I'm not saying I don't like that song, I do. But is it really one of those turn-up-your-stereo-and-rock-out kind of songs?

The yellow jackets are circling. I have to go inside.

Just in time for Easter.

Stigmata.

(or a binder-related incident at work, if you're more comfortable with that.)

So. How are you guys celebrating the resurrection of our lord and savior jesu...

Ok, I can't do that with a straight face. Sorry.

Want another one, Joel?

How about the guy I saw today, with the royal blue sweater and jeans, and the fuchsia socks. Yeah, fuchsia socks and guess what else? A fuchsia t-shirt peeking out from under the royal blue sweater.

I could post every day about the freaks in Redwood City.

Like the guy with the cheetah bike. It had a tail and everything.

The pole-circler, who walks circles around the light post non-stop as she's waiting for the light to change.

The guy who runs in the short shorts, reminiscent of Jack Tripper.

There's a never-ending stream of weirdos parading past my building. And we get to see them all. Even the midgets and the crippled hobos.

Another one.

I just saw a girl wearing red velour sweat pants and a pink turtleneck sweater. I wonder about the thought process behind that outfit. Was it just a matter of what was closest to her on the bedroom floor or did she really think to herself "wow, this would look great on me!"?

Totally 80's

I saw a guy wearing neon green Wayfarers today. Not even real ones. They were the fake, rubbery ones.

What's that all about?

Nice try.

Ebony and Ivory.
Good message.
Retarded song.

It's like Paul and Stevie wanted to do this meaningful song together and change the way people think, but they didn't have a lot of time to spend on it. So they decided to take a poem written by a sixth grader on the back of her Trapper-Keeper and put it to music.

And you know that sixth grader didn't even write it because she believed in it. She just wanted to get her poem in the school paper and knew that writing something with a "powerful message" increased her chances.

Hope can drive a man insane.

I had a narrated dream last night. I think that’s a first for me. It was quite the boring dream, but the narration was impeccable. I wish I could tell you that it was Morgan Freeman who narrated the dream.

I wish I could tell you that.

But it was more like the voice from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Still good, but he’s no Morgan Freeman.

Paul Simon.

Is it even possible to be in a bad mood when You Can Call Me Al comes on the radio? Seriously. Can you hear that song and not smile? If you're in a bad mood and you want to remain in your bad mood you should not listen to KFOG.

Same goes for Me And Julio Down By The School Yard and Diamonds On The Soles Of Her Shoes.

And to a lesser degree Kodachrome and The Boxer.




(Just kidding about The Boxer.)

Body part slang...

...gives new meaning to that Soft Cell song...


touch me baby
tainted love
touch me baby
tainted love

Important Notice:

I will be AFK all day.**




**Sung to the tune of The KKK Took My Baby Away by The Ramones.

Seriously?

It's only 1:30?

WTF?

Random sentences.

I saw a bubblegum pink Corolla on the freeway today while I was listening to the Cure song Lullaby.


(actually it was yesterday, but that sentence doesn't sound as good)

Who died?

Yesterday I wore a black sweater with gray pants and today I have on a gray sweater with black pants. You'd think I'm in mourning or something.

Mondays are awesome, right?

I saw this bumper sticker today:

Would somebody give Bush a blowjob so we can impeach him?

It gave me a little giggle.

I was thinking about Joan Cusack the other day. Sounds weird, but it's true. I heard the song Edge of Seventeen on KFOX and it started me thinking about her performance in School of Rock. Wasn't she perfect? When they went out for "coffee" and she ended up at the bar with a beer. The way she lowered her head to sip the beer instead of lifting it to her mouth. Genius.

John may have received the lion's share of the looks in that family (not that there was much to spread around) but she's the real talent.

Don't get all offended. You know it's true. I love John Cusack as much as the next guy. You can't have grown up in the 80's and not. But I love Joan Cusack, too. She's a great actress, and she's got a sort of weird hotness about her as well.













Do you think I should cut my hair like this?

No, I'm kidding. I'm not cutting my hair. My hair looks amazing right now. It should be illegal for hair to look as good as mine did today.

Seriously.

I burned my pinkie last night

On myself because I'm so fucking hot.

Not really, it was on a pan while making dinner but I thought that whole on myself because I'm so fucking hot thing would be kind of funny.

Anyway, so it wasn't a big burn but it did blister. And today I gave myself a paper cut right on the blister.

Gross, huh?

Fuck you, Santa.

Just bring the toys and fly away, leaving us parents to put together the mother fucking TRANSFORMERS that suck ass, you stupid fuck.


You were right, J. This is fucked up. I set it aside after a while so as not to throw it off the balcony.

It's still unfinished. It's 98% Death Star, 2% Vader. Close enough.

So...

How was everyone's New Years?

I want to get really drunk tonight.

Has this ever happened to you?

You're sitting at work and it's so mind-numbingly slow that you start stabbing yourself in the neck with your scissors? Then the EMTs come and they want to take you to the psych ward because they think you actually tried to commit suicide due to the holiday blues because more people commit suicide this time of year, you know, and you try to convince them that you weren't trying to kill yourself that you were just trying to pass the time faster? But they don't believe you so you have to lie and say it was a tragic accident, that your mother never told you not to run with scissors but now you know and you won't ever do it again?

No? Just me, then?

TV

It finally hit me how this writer's strike is affecting my TV viewing. It's killed my half-hour shows. I naively thought I was immune, seeing as I have roughly 26 hours of programs stored on my Tivo. However, most of the shows I watch are an hour, and sometimes I just don't want to commit. So I've been forced to watch uh, other shows. I've watched two episodes of The Big Bang Theory. I know. I know. I left it on last week because that guy from Roseanne is on it. I don't have an excuse for this week. I will say though, that I giggled at least twice, and I think I chuckled at some point. Which is more than I got from the last two episodes of Earl.

Yeah. I totally went there.

We're all god's creatures.

I wanted to tell you about the bee.

The poor bee died in the parking garage. It was stuck in the window. I didn't quite understand that part because it shouldn't have been difficult to get out. Basically, you fly one way you hit glass, you fly the other way and you're FREE! But he couldn't do it because he was stupid so he died.

I first saw him on a Monday. I don't know how long he had been there but he was on his way to that big flower patch in the sky already. I felt like I should step on him and put him out of his misery, but he was huge. Huge. The size of a walnut. Ok, maybe the size of a grape, but whatever, he was really big and I didn't want his guts all over my shoe. Then I saw him Wednesday, still struggling to get through the glass. He was moving a lot slower, and I felt really bad about not killing him. But again, the guts thing, you know? So I let him slowly die. Looking through the glass at freedom, not knowing how to attain it. I could have ended it quickly. But I chose not to because I didn't want bee guts on my shoe. Also, the popping noise would have creeped me out.

The end.

I realized this morning...

My cat hasn't puked in like 3 weeks. Way to go, Fatness! Good job keeping your food inside. Of course, now that I've jinxed myself I so don't want to go home.

What's with me not having anything to say lately?

I think it's the Christmas Blues.

Man, those Kirby guys really want to clean my carpets.

What do you guys have for Christmas music?

Want to share?

Just five more minutes?

That Sunday let-down is even worse after a 4 day weekend, isn't it? I can't even imagine how awful the alarm clock is going to sound tomorrow. I do appreciate the fact that this 4 day weekend has seemed so long to me. Probably because I didn't have much to do. When you have a bunch of things you absolutely have to get done you end up spending your weekend too fast.

Tom and Jerry is still a funny cartoon, you know? Stuff like this:
"What's cookin'?"
"You are, stupid."

They don't call each other stupid enough in cartoons these days. New cartoons aren't as funny. But there is a commercial for some cartoon called Chowder that makes me laugh every time I see it. Which is like 6 times a day. The main character is a moron, and he says "Pepper spray! That sounds delicious! *spray* Ahhhh! I was wrong! I was horribly wrong!" I have no idea why, but that cracks me up. Apparently I like idiots, because Ed, Edd, and Eddy makes me laugh sometimes, too.

See? Cartoons. I really haven't had much to do this weekend.

Pain in the neck.

This year I'm thankful for 800mg Motrin.

I hate Craigslist...

because I just can't stop looking for things I can't have.

Have a great Thanksgiving, guys. And remember: Only 34 shopping days left until Christmas!

The

Longest




Day




Ever.

Why does this make me laugh so hard?

A restaurant called The Pie Hole? Awesome!

As if I needed another reason to love the show Pushing Daisies, they used a They Might Be Giants song in one episode.
If you haven't given this one a try, go for it. It's great. Did you see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory with Johnny Depp? If you liked that, you'll like this. It's very similar.

Kind of Tim Burton-ish, too.


Is Depp his real last name, you think? It sounds fake. Just wondering.

Clearing out Tivo.

What's worse than a summer cold?

An indian summer cold.

The last few sunny, wonderful days to enjoy and I'm stuck on the couch feeling like crap.

Hey, you work out?

I was walking up to my building the other day and some guy leans out his car window to make kissy noises at me. So sexy. I was wondering if he believes this is an effective way to pick up chicks. Does this person think that one day some girl somewhere is going to turn around and say "Oh my gosh! Come back here and let me give you my number because that was so hot!"

And this isn't the first time I've received this treatment. I mean, let's be honest here. There's a certain ethnic group that is very fond of the smoochy-smoochy noise pick-up method. (Shhh, I just so happen to be a part of that ethnic group, so I have a pass.) Anyway, I figure it must work sometimes, or they'd get rid of it, right? And they're certainly not getting rid of it.

Lucky for me.

I need Dwight.

As my cat gets more and more annoying, what with the constant crying for food, her insistence for fresh water twice a day, the vomiting on the carpet, and her refusal to cover her shit in the litter box, I start wondering how fine the line is between killing and mercy killing.

I mean, she's already dying, right?

I was wrong.

I thought I wanted Fleetwood Mac's greatest hits but it turns out I just wanted Rumors. I don't know who's idea it was to record Little Lies but they should be shot.

Spade.

Sometimes I think I should rename this blog "Link List."

If I could say shitballs to the principal I'd be so happy.

How many days later, and I still can't get Cartman's voice out of my head.

"I've got a golden ticket..."

Late night visitor.

That black cat keeps trying to get into my bedroom. He even opens the screen door. I thought he had a collar, but last night I noticed he was without. I wonder if he lost it. Or maybe the owner is tired of him being such a slut.

Trying to get at my poor, innocent Fatty.

I already took in one stray black cat. I'm not taking another. Soon I'd have five. And who wants that much bad luck?

Now I guess I'll have to tell 'em that I got no cerebellum.

I put in a Ramones CD today, Their Toughest Hits. Which is kind of like listening to one really long Ramones song.

Oh, and what about those people who can't switch lanes without breaking? How do you feel about them?

Overkill.

I wrote "C shampoo" on my running grocery list today, to remind myself to buy shampoo for my son. Which is pretty lame because:

a. My son and I both have names that start with C, and

b. Like I'd use shampoo from a grocery store. Come on, now.

Ow! Quit it! Ow! Quit it!

Which one of you fuckers has the voodoo doll of me and would you please stop jabbing me in the ear with a pin?

Thanks.

Born to rock.

Last week, as I left my son's school, I saw a woman getting into her car near mine. She had on sweatpants that said "Rock Star" across the butt. In rhinestones. Like it was BeDazzled.

The way I see it, you're not a rock star if:

1. You're getting into your Honda CRV after dropping your kid off at school, and

2. You advertise it on your ass. In sweatpants.

Knock it off, lady. You're past your prime. Face it.

I like him, but...

Does anyone else think James Blunt kind of blew his wad with the first album?

I'm almost out of ice cream.

Skool.

My son came home with a book report that started:

Toy Story 2 is about toys that cum to life.

Smell it?

I went down to the corner store (market, if you prefer) today during my lunch. I walked in and vaguely noticed a smell, a chemical-ish smell, but didn't pay much attention to it. After I grabbed a box of just one calorie Tic-Tacs, I went to the counter. There I was assaulted, yes, assaulted, by the smell. It immediately entered my nose and mouth. I saw a Windex bottle tipped on it's side on the counter. (but even then, I knew somewhere in my head that it was all wrong for Windex) I made a noise that was a cross between "blech" and "yuck", which I'm sure you'll agree is impossible to type. Then an "ew" sound, which was one of those very annoyed "ew"s, not a cutesy, uptalk "ew". You know. With the extended "w" part. The Red Bull girl started laughing and I turned to her and said "I think I can taste it!" and she agreed. Of course, it was half a second after that exchange that I realized the smell was not the Windex at all, but the woman standing three feet from me. Which sucked, because I don't like to insult people. To their face. I much prefer doing it behind their back.

(if you're giggling, you're childish. yes, I said "doing it")

But half an hour later when I could still smell and taste the perfume, I didn't feel quite as bad. Because I'm sure every person she came into contact with thought the same thing as me, but I was the only one who voiced it. I sure hope she learned a lesson today. Inflicting asthma upon countless innocent souls with your excessive perfume usage is a bad way to get into heaven.

Animal Cruelty.

All day my cat has been crying for food. I keep feeding her, she keeps crying for more. She's been crying for food when there's still food in her bowl.

She just wants the attention, I think. Because she's dying of kidney disease, you know.

Despite the whole dying thing, I get a little crazy after four hours of meow-meow. I finally snapped and yelled "Fatty, if you don't shut up I'm going to kick you and throw you outside!"

And I hear my son from the other room yell "Mom, let ME kick her! Can I kick her?"

Which scares me and makes me laugh really hard at the same time.

I like to read a murder mystery. I like to know the killer isn't me.

When was the last time you had a random Erasure song stuck in your head?

It's physics.

I hate bitches with super long, French manicured nails in maroon Mitsubishis who think that if I'm not tailgating the car in front of me that I'm not going as fast as they are.

Bitch, back off.

Your insurance is way more expensive than mine.

Reading.

I am thoroughly addicted to Augusten Burroughs. I can't stop reading his book, even though a part of me wants to read slowly so it will last longer.

I read Running With Scissors and Dry. I'm almost through with Magical Thinking. I just ordered Sellevision and his latest book, Possible Side Effects. I highly recommend getting at least Running With Scissors. But you may as well get Dry while you're at it. Trust me.

Is it irony to be addicted to an alcoholic?

Sounds like Lydia got an A on the math test.

You know that song Jump in the Line by Harry Belafonte? Sure, you know the one, they played it at the end of Beetlejuice? Yeah, that one.

So, am I the only one who hears the line:

Senora's dance has no title
You jump in the saddle, hold onto the bridle

and thinks that sounds kind of dirty?

And yeah, the little hand motion Winona does during that part doesn't help at all.

I'm not dead, Cat!

I was driving behind some Honda today; the stupid chick was going like four miles an hour!
I say "Come on, fuckface, let's go!"
Then she goes to turn on the same street I was going to turn on.
I say "Oh great, because that's what I wanted to do, follow your slow ass all the way down Cox."

And then I giggled.

Because.

You know.

Cox.

It's funny, because, um...

Sitting with my dad and his cousin and her husband in the back yard after dinner in Idaho:

My dad tells a story about this one time he was at his neighbor's house and there was a commercial for Viagra or Levitra or some damn thing, and the commercial gets to that part where it says "if you have an erection lasting more than four hours contact your doctor."

(side note: hearing your dad say "erection" is weird)

So the neighbor turns to his wife and says "heck, if I had a four hour erection I'd call your sister!"

Laughter ensues.

Then I start giggling to myself and say "If you have an erection lasting more than four hours, get her some lessons."

But nobody laughs. Except me.

The Blog

There is a building at the corner of Hamilton and Leigh and it's called...get this...The Hamilton-Leigh Building. Really? They couldn't come up with anything better than that?

I suppose Building With Walls, Windows, and Doors would have been more obvious. Or The Big Building. I want to meet the guys who named that place. They must have huge imaginations.

"What should we name the new building?"

"Well, where is it?"

"It's at the corner of Hamilton Avenue and Leigh Avenue, sir."

"How about the Hamilton-Leigh Building?"

"Brilliant!"

"Uh, sir? What about the one at the corner of Olive Road and Dick Street?"

Self entertainment.

Sometimes I think I should have a t-shirt made that says

I'm so funny

because I am. I really just am.

"I did something illegal."

I think I have a crush on Zooey Deschanel. I couldn't help but like her in Elf, even though I tried not to, and she was so awesome in season 2 of Weeds.

I just wish I knew how to pronounce her name.

No kidding.

I heard this on Animal Planet yesterday:

These days, the cougar is showing up in suburban backyards.

Yeah. They're all over the club scene, too.

Ooh, and I saw one at the pool the other day. Rawr.

Sorry I haven't posted.

I've been a little, uh...

busy.

gamma fuck jesus?

I saw this scratched into the side of a minivan the other day.

It gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling.

I'm invited!

Anyone want to go to the party with me?

resurrected.

If I was rich, really rich, like Bill Gates rich, I would run into people with my car(s) all the time. Anyone that pissed me off, I'd hit them. That guy who changes lanes but doesn't have enough room to move all the way over so the back end of his car is blocking your lane? Yeah, I'd hit him. The chick on her cell phone who stops at a green light because she's distracted? I'd hit her so hard. I wouldn't even care, I would totally tell them why, too. "I ran into you because you were in my way" sounds great to me. I'd even hit that disgusting creature who was shoving her fat face full of muffin yesterday. She took a drink of coffee without even swallowing her mouthful of food. That is so gross. I would totally hit her. Just because she annoyed me.

I'm dead.

I have.

You ever wake up with a Bryan Adams song in your head and a strong desire to shove something long and pointy into your eardrum?

Smell me.

I used a new perfume today and I gotta tell ya, I'm kind of turning myself on right now.

Happy 4th of July, everyone!

Yeah, I watch America's Got Talent. So what?

Call me cynical, but when Lazy Legs Luca (um) walked on stage I was thinking "well sure, who can say no to the crippled guy?"