What I did...
...in honor of America's HEROES who DIED for ME PERSONALLY in every war since the Peloponessian so that I could SUCKLE at the TEAT of LIBERTY and SUP on the BOUNTY of FREEDOM unllike those Commies in France and, like, Ethiopia.
ABSTRACT
That's a really long title. So long, in fact, that it didn't fit entirely within the box so I expanded it for you. You're welcome. STRIPPING! Yay. Only, it's my bed. I shaved really well this morning. TOUCH MY FACE. White Shirt mayeb went to the Zoo, and I am jealous because The Lion King sucked and I way overthink the plot of everything, but I still deserve a goddamn Nobel, but not for that, for my unification of science and entertainment using astrology and Tom Cruise. It's--I mean, you have to read it. It makes total sense. Joan Jett gives me her opinion of rock and roll. I finally get around to telling you about my weekend, which involved drinking and eating and sleeping and movies. That's the upshot, basically. I took my car in for service! I am Audi's bitch. John Lennon wants me to the point of inarticulateness. I should do some work. Also, I should buy some new CDs and I am reading a book or two and I TOTALLY used my internal filter in this post!!! Aren't you lucky? And then I am unaccountably bitchy to Nell Carter who, just to remind you all, is still dead.
------------------
I stripped (WOO HOO!! Don't you love stories that begin with stripping??!@?! I know I do, unless it's about stripping beds) my bed (DAMN) so as to wash my sheets. Yes, you may all kiss my feet now, if you wish. I did a really good job shaving this morning, I want you all to know apropos of nothing other than the fact that I'm all touching my face all the time. Like last year when I went to the place and got a facial and I was all I CAN'T STOP TOUCHING MY FACE!! It's not quite that nice because hi, no facial, although it's totally time for one of those again because I deserve to feel pretty, damnit, but in any event, I invite you all to come touch my face, although you're going to have to do it within the day, pretty much, because otherwise I will have like regrown hair and then I will have to shave it again and there's just no guarantee that I will do as good a job. Shaving is like an art, only a really dumb one that I wish I didn't have to deal with all the time, although I really have no desire to get my face blasted with LASERs so I for real don't have to deal with it because sometimes stubble can be sexy, you know? I know darthfox does, although she like more scruff than I do. And yesterday one of my coworkers came in and was all, I LIKE YOUR NON-SHAVEDNESS only, not in capital letters and not with those words but that was the gist, as my old Czech professor used to say, Cutehead Paní (I know there's a way to make this letter but I forget how)(Sh)kopková! And I was like Thank You! But you are like 50 and obsessed with Kenya! Here is your spreadsheet go away now plzkthx. THE END. Of that digression.
Because I was going to be packing all this week, right, with all the moving and the blah and the whatever, so I wanted to do laundry and so I did! And it was all fine and that's what I did on Friday but I didn't actually end up making the bed until last night, since ever other night was spent over with White Shirt at his place, since his roommates were out of town and, you know, his bed was made. White Shirt, incidentally, took the day off today and said he might go to the zoo, and I am JEALOUS because I love the zoo. AMINALS!!! I heart them, especially when they not bugs and when they are behind bars and can't eat me, which is ALL I wanted someone to do last night in The Lion King which I watched last night with indydc. SHUT UP YOU WHINY CAT. Why won't someone just eat you and put you out of your misery, and me out of mine? Also I hate the new song they added for the DVD. Also also, I was thinking (DANGER! DANGER!), okay, even if the stupid whiny brat hadn't run away the whole thing would have gone basically the same because Scar (also, WTF? The good guys get names like "Mufasa" and "Simba," but the bad guy gets "Scar"? Why not something like "Mobutu" or "Amin" or something that isn't, you know, AN ENGLISH WORD) would have been regent for the time of Simba's minority, and would have done the same thing anyways. Anyway that's less dramatic and requires explaining the concept of "regent" to a bunch of five year olds, and worse, their parents, but it would have been a way smarter way of going about it. If I were Scar. You are all very lucky that I am not a blood relation of any living monarch, incidentally.
I am told that I have a retrograde Mercury somewhere in my gestures vaguely heavens-ward and that for those of you who know about astrology that should come as no kind of shock at all. I don't know a damn thing about it (I think it's silly but harmless fun) but I'm told this by people who should know. Anyway I thought that a retrograde Mercury was a bad thing since back when all the badness of 2004 was happening (although, hi, most of 2004 was pretty much badness, actually; it had its high points but as a whole it's fine by me if we just forget about it) everyone was all, MERCURY! RETROGRADE!! And then like hiding in their astrology-proof bunkers, but apparently it can't be all bad if it causes me to write like this! Which is what I'm told it does. Although, really, the whole concept of a retrograde Mercury presupposes a geocentric Solar System, which isn't the case, obviously, but I've already been told once today that I'm bad a suspending disbelief simply because I think and have always thought that it's ridiculous that the aliens in War of the Worlds come here with their DEATH RAYS and their ZAP-KAPOW and their Tom Cruise-killing ways and then die of the common cold? And I have all kinds of like actual reasons why I believe this, but I also just think it's desperately unsexy. Kind of like herpetic Katie Holmes, which, actually, might explain that whole thing entirely. There we go, I have just unified the world of Hollywood with the world of science. This is way more important than relativity. Give me a goddamn Nobel. But anyway I shouldn't have to suspend disbelief for something that's supposed to tell me all about myself, right? I didn't for that PBS show we had to watch in 5th Grade with the woman in the bodysuit with the organs all printed on it so we could learn about our kidneys and things. (All About You, it was called. That was a creepy show.) Although maybe I just kind of defy conventional measures of belief.
Joan Jett? Loves rock and roll. Presumably the Blackhearts do, too.
So anyway this weekend I did...stuff? Laundry on Friday. Oh, and then dinner with White Shirt at McCormick & Schmick's, which I LOVE because yay seafood, and then for drinks at Freddie's which we eventually ended up closing down (after White Shirt was all, "No more than two drinks." HAHAHA. Whatever.) And then we woke up Saturday and he was hung over and I was not (I'd only had three drinks, what with the driving) and I don't even know what we did that day. Did we do anything at all? I think that was the day we finally managed to struggle out of bed at about 12:30 and then managed to get out of the house for lunch at like 2:00 (YUM TACO BELL) and then went back and watched crappy movies all day. Oh that was totally the day he watched Alias while I took a little nap and then I woke up and one of the characters was all, "This must be the C-4, because it has C-4 written all over it," and I just laughed and laughed and laughed because earlier I had said, "Oh, that must be the C-4 because it has C-4 written all over it." Maybe some of you don't know this, but I actually write for television. And then there was Galaxy Quest and pork chops and Eraser, which was reTARded, and then it was Sunday! So he made breakfast (YUM! He spoils me) and then we went over to my place where we commenced packing. Boo packing. I had the Indy 500 on in the background. Yay for Danica Patrick--that was a pretty effing rad race, actually, as far as crappy IRL races go, and then we went with jgesteve to drinks at Chili's and then met up with esti626 for more drinks at Freddie's (I KNOW. The staff is getting to know us. SCARY.) and then they left and it was just White Shirt and I and then girlfromsouth called and she came over and we all drank more and then we went to Ziegfeld's again and had to get money out of the SCARY-ASS ATM next door and the drag show was good and the stripping (MORE STRIPPING) was I don't know, we didn't actually go there very much. Drinks! And fun and dancing and then Bob & Edith's! As always, it seems. And then it was 5:00 and we were home and then it was Monday and White Shirt was hung over AGAIN and swore off drinking for the second time in as many days plus one, and I was like, OH I BELIEVE YOU. Anyway he vegged out on the couch all day and I went back and forth from getting lunch and doing something at my place like cleaning up or something, I forget, and then we watched the Miss Universe pageant which was unspeakably stupid, and no one's surprised that the only (semi-)native anglophone of the top five won, and the male host was SO UNSPEAKABLY IRRITATING I COULD NOT STAND HIM. And then it was Tuesday!
So I took my car in to the dealership for an oil change and to get the headlight replaced and to look at the reason why my "AIR BAG" light flickers when the engine is cold. The light was replaced (so now White Shirt won't yell at me when I go 5 mph over the limit at night near his place where the cops like to hang out) and the oil was replaced (yay, since I don't know when the last change was. NOTE TO SELF: This change was at 112,200), and it was never explained to me what was up with the Air Bag light, but the invoice showed that it was recall work, so whatever it was, it was free! Yay for free. I assume this was just a loose wire. I'm happy thinking that, even if it's not true. And then food and The Lion King. This is all territory we have walked before.
Also the Audi service department had a picture of what I'm pretty sure was a Type-A (1934), Type-B (1935) or Type-C (1936) driven by Hans Stuck on the wall, and I was all, THAT IS SO HOT. Only internally, so the service people weren't all, why are you such a freak? Since I'm sure none of them would have had any idea what or whom I was talking about. Also also I got to wander around the lot and look at the new cars. SEXAY. I saw a GORGEOUS S4 which I totally want NOW, even though it costs $55k and only gets 15/22, but it was blue and SO SO SEXAY. And there was also the new A3 already on the lot and they were ALSO sexay, and a slightly more reasonable $33k and 22/30. I AM AUDI'S BITCH. Buy me one whynot?
John Lennon wants me. He wants me so baaaaaaaad it's driving him mad, it's driving him mad. So I'm told.
Okay. It's getting late enough in the day now (12:30! That's like afternoon and crap) that I should actually consider doing some of the work I have to get done today as much as I don't want to, but I really do want to keep this job, so there's that. And it is quite a bit of work, too. I'm getting kind of hungry, though, so maybe I will go get lunch. OR MAYBE I will go eat some of that salt water taffy that someone went all the way to Virginia Beach to get and then brought it here to leave it in the kitchen for everyone. Why would you do that? I mean, I like my coworkers and all but I'm not going to actually spend money on them, other than the couple of times I went to Prague and wrote postcards back, but that was funny because I would always get back before the postcards, and they would always say things like HI! I'm in Prague and you're not. There is pollution here! The end. I really wish I was at work right now! Which is of course a complete and total lie. I mean, I never actually wrote that but if I had it would have been a complete and total lie.
I have to go to Best Buy some time in the near future because there's a new Better Than Ezra album out and apparently also a Best of Birtney Spears which it horrifies me to admit I must own, because hi. I am, after all, a pop trash culture whore, like I said to that guy from the Washington Times that one time long ago on my birthday. (Confidential to girlfromsouth: WE HAVE MASTERS DEGREES). Also I recently started re-reading Gravity's Rainbow which I ADORE and which is one of my favorite books of all time ever, but which I have no hope of actually finishing in the two weeks and change until the new Harry Potter comes out, but which I will return to after the two days, tops, it takes me to read the new Harry Potter book. Unless I'm laid up by something those days and for whatever reason can not spend that much time reading the book those two days. I was about to say something silly and kind of gooshy then but I stopped myself. You have no idea how lucky you all are. That's TWICE now this post that I have applied a filter to the stuff coming out of my head. TWICE! This is like, a record. A good record, like, Thriller or longest fingernails, not a crappy record like most eyeballs swallowed or that crappy single that Joey Lawrence put out back when he was on that show he was on that wasn't Gimme a Break! with Nell Carter who, several years after her death, is probably finally down to a healthy weight.
mrow
ABSTRACT
That's a really long title. So long, in fact, that it didn't fit entirely within the box so I expanded it for you. You're welcome. STRIPPING! Yay. Only, it's my bed. I shaved really well this morning. TOUCH MY FACE. White Shirt mayeb went to the Zoo, and I am jealous because The Lion King sucked and I way overthink the plot of everything, but I still deserve a goddamn Nobel, but not for that, for my unification of science and entertainment using astrology and Tom Cruise. It's--I mean, you have to read it. It makes total sense. Joan Jett gives me her opinion of rock and roll. I finally get around to telling you about my weekend, which involved drinking and eating and sleeping and movies. That's the upshot, basically. I took my car in for service! I am Audi's bitch. John Lennon wants me to the point of inarticulateness. I should do some work. Also, I should buy some new CDs and I am reading a book or two and I TOTALLY used my internal filter in this post!!! Aren't you lucky? And then I am unaccountably bitchy to Nell Carter who, just to remind you all, is still dead.
------------------
I stripped (WOO HOO!! Don't you love stories that begin with stripping??!@?! I know I do, unless it's about stripping beds) my bed (DAMN) so as to wash my sheets. Yes, you may all kiss my feet now, if you wish. I did a really good job shaving this morning, I want you all to know apropos of nothing other than the fact that I'm all touching my face all the time. Like last year when I went to the place and got a facial and I was all I CAN'T STOP TOUCHING MY FACE!! It's not quite that nice because hi, no facial, although it's totally time for one of those again because I deserve to feel pretty, damnit, but in any event, I invite you all to come touch my face, although you're going to have to do it within the day, pretty much, because otherwise I will have like regrown hair and then I will have to shave it again and there's just no guarantee that I will do as good a job. Shaving is like an art, only a really dumb one that I wish I didn't have to deal with all the time, although I really have no desire to get my face blasted with LASERs so I for real don't have to deal with it because sometimes stubble can be sexy, you know? I know darthfox does, although she like more scruff than I do. And yesterday one of my coworkers came in and was all, I LIKE YOUR NON-SHAVEDNESS only, not in capital letters and not with those words but that was the gist, as my old Czech professor used to say, Cutehead Paní (I know there's a way to make this letter but I forget how)(Sh)kopková! And I was like Thank You! But you are like 50 and obsessed with Kenya! Here is your spreadsheet go away now plzkthx. THE END. Of that digression.
Because I was going to be packing all this week, right, with all the moving and the blah and the whatever, so I wanted to do laundry and so I did! And it was all fine and that's what I did on Friday but I didn't actually end up making the bed until last night, since ever other night was spent over with White Shirt at his place, since his roommates were out of town and, you know, his bed was made. White Shirt, incidentally, took the day off today and said he might go to the zoo, and I am JEALOUS because I love the zoo. AMINALS!!! I heart them, especially when they not bugs and when they are behind bars and can't eat me, which is ALL I wanted someone to do last night in The Lion King which I watched last night with indydc. SHUT UP YOU WHINY CAT. Why won't someone just eat you and put you out of your misery, and me out of mine? Also I hate the new song they added for the DVD. Also also, I was thinking (DANGER! DANGER!), okay, even if the stupid whiny brat hadn't run away the whole thing would have gone basically the same because Scar (also, WTF? The good guys get names like "Mufasa" and "Simba," but the bad guy gets "Scar"? Why not something like "Mobutu" or "Amin" or something that isn't, you know, AN ENGLISH WORD) would have been regent for the time of Simba's minority, and would have done the same thing anyways. Anyway that's less dramatic and requires explaining the concept of "regent" to a bunch of five year olds, and worse, their parents, but it would have been a way smarter way of going about it. If I were Scar. You are all very lucky that I am not a blood relation of any living monarch, incidentally.
I am told that I have a retrograde Mercury somewhere in my gestures vaguely heavens-ward and that for those of you who know about astrology that should come as no kind of shock at all. I don't know a damn thing about it (I think it's silly but harmless fun) but I'm told this by people who should know. Anyway I thought that a retrograde Mercury was a bad thing since back when all the badness of 2004 was happening (although, hi, most of 2004 was pretty much badness, actually; it had its high points but as a whole it's fine by me if we just forget about it) everyone was all, MERCURY! RETROGRADE!! And then like hiding in their astrology-proof bunkers, but apparently it can't be all bad if it causes me to write like this! Which is what I'm told it does. Although, really, the whole concept of a retrograde Mercury presupposes a geocentric Solar System, which isn't the case, obviously, but I've already been told once today that I'm bad a suspending disbelief simply because I think and have always thought that it's ridiculous that the aliens in War of the Worlds come here with their DEATH RAYS and their ZAP-KAPOW and their Tom Cruise-killing ways and then die of the common cold? And I have all kinds of like actual reasons why I believe this, but I also just think it's desperately unsexy. Kind of like herpetic Katie Holmes, which, actually, might explain that whole thing entirely. There we go, I have just unified the world of Hollywood with the world of science. This is way more important than relativity. Give me a goddamn Nobel. But anyway I shouldn't have to suspend disbelief for something that's supposed to tell me all about myself, right? I didn't for that PBS show we had to watch in 5th Grade with the woman in the bodysuit with the organs all printed on it so we could learn about our kidneys and things. (All About You, it was called. That was a creepy show.) Although maybe I just kind of defy conventional measures of belief.
Joan Jett? Loves rock and roll. Presumably the Blackhearts do, too.
So anyway this weekend I did...stuff? Laundry on Friday. Oh, and then dinner with White Shirt at McCormick & Schmick's, which I LOVE because yay seafood, and then for drinks at Freddie's which we eventually ended up closing down (after White Shirt was all, "No more than two drinks." HAHAHA. Whatever.) And then we woke up Saturday and he was hung over and I was not (I'd only had three drinks, what with the driving) and I don't even know what we did that day. Did we do anything at all? I think that was the day we finally managed to struggle out of bed at about 12:30 and then managed to get out of the house for lunch at like 2:00 (YUM TACO BELL) and then went back and watched crappy movies all day. Oh that was totally the day he watched Alias while I took a little nap and then I woke up and one of the characters was all, "This must be the C-4, because it has C-4 written all over it," and I just laughed and laughed and laughed because earlier I had said, "Oh, that must be the C-4 because it has C-4 written all over it." Maybe some of you don't know this, but I actually write for television. And then there was Galaxy Quest and pork chops and Eraser, which was reTARded, and then it was Sunday! So he made breakfast (YUM! He spoils me) and then we went over to my place where we commenced packing. Boo packing. I had the Indy 500 on in the background. Yay for Danica Patrick--that was a pretty effing rad race, actually, as far as crappy IRL races go, and then we went with jgesteve to drinks at Chili's and then met up with esti626 for more drinks at Freddie's (I KNOW. The staff is getting to know us. SCARY.) and then they left and it was just White Shirt and I and then girlfromsouth called and she came over and we all drank more and then we went to Ziegfeld's again and had to get money out of the SCARY-ASS ATM next door and the drag show was good and the stripping (MORE STRIPPING) was I don't know, we didn't actually go there very much. Drinks! And fun and dancing and then Bob & Edith's! As always, it seems. And then it was 5:00 and we were home and then it was Monday and White Shirt was hung over AGAIN and swore off drinking for the second time in as many days plus one, and I was like, OH I BELIEVE YOU. Anyway he vegged out on the couch all day and I went back and forth from getting lunch and doing something at my place like cleaning up or something, I forget, and then we watched the Miss Universe pageant which was unspeakably stupid, and no one's surprised that the only (semi-)native anglophone of the top five won, and the male host was SO UNSPEAKABLY IRRITATING I COULD NOT STAND HIM. And then it was Tuesday!
So I took my car in to the dealership for an oil change and to get the headlight replaced and to look at the reason why my "AIR BAG" light flickers when the engine is cold. The light was replaced (so now White Shirt won't yell at me when I go 5 mph over the limit at night near his place where the cops like to hang out) and the oil was replaced (yay, since I don't know when the last change was. NOTE TO SELF: This change was at 112,200), and it was never explained to me what was up with the Air Bag light, but the invoice showed that it was recall work, so whatever it was, it was free! Yay for free. I assume this was just a loose wire. I'm happy thinking that, even if it's not true. And then food and The Lion King. This is all territory we have walked before.
Also the Audi service department had a picture of what I'm pretty sure was a Type-A (1934), Type-B (1935) or Type-C (1936) driven by Hans Stuck on the wall, and I was all, THAT IS SO HOT. Only internally, so the service people weren't all, why are you such a freak? Since I'm sure none of them would have had any idea what or whom I was talking about. Also also I got to wander around the lot and look at the new cars. SEXAY. I saw a GORGEOUS S4 which I totally want NOW, even though it costs $55k and only gets 15/22, but it was blue and SO SO SEXAY. And there was also the new A3 already on the lot and they were ALSO sexay, and a slightly more reasonable $33k and 22/30. I AM AUDI'S BITCH. Buy me one whynot?
John Lennon wants me. He wants me so baaaaaaaad it's driving him mad, it's driving him mad. So I'm told.
Okay. It's getting late enough in the day now (12:30! That's like afternoon and crap) that I should actually consider doing some of the work I have to get done today as much as I don't want to, but I really do want to keep this job, so there's that. And it is quite a bit of work, too. I'm getting kind of hungry, though, so maybe I will go get lunch. OR MAYBE I will go eat some of that salt water taffy that someone went all the way to Virginia Beach to get and then brought it here to leave it in the kitchen for everyone. Why would you do that? I mean, I like my coworkers and all but I'm not going to actually spend money on them, other than the couple of times I went to Prague and wrote postcards back, but that was funny because I would always get back before the postcards, and they would always say things like HI! I'm in Prague and you're not. There is pollution here! The end. I really wish I was at work right now! Which is of course a complete and total lie. I mean, I never actually wrote that but if I had it would have been a complete and total lie.
I have to go to Best Buy some time in the near future because there's a new Better Than Ezra album out and apparently also a Best of Birtney Spears which it horrifies me to admit I must own, because hi. I am, after all, a pop trash culture whore, like I said to that guy from the Washington Times that one time long ago on my birthday. (Confidential to girlfromsouth: WE HAVE MASTERS DEGREES). Also I recently started re-reading Gravity's Rainbow which I ADORE and which is one of my favorite books of all time ever, but which I have no hope of actually finishing in the two weeks and change until the new Harry Potter comes out, but which I will return to after the two days, tops, it takes me to read the new Harry Potter book. Unless I'm laid up by something those days and for whatever reason can not spend that much time reading the book those two days. I was about to say something silly and kind of gooshy then but I stopped myself. You have no idea how lucky you all are. That's TWICE now this post that I have applied a filter to the stuff coming out of my head. TWICE! This is like, a record. A good record, like, Thriller or longest fingernails, not a crappy record like most eyeballs swallowed or that crappy single that Joey Lawrence put out back when he was on that show he was on that wasn't Gimme a Break! with Nell Carter who, several years after her death, is probably finally down to a healthy weight.
mrow