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.