Where in the hell did I go?

Are you still there? Man. Thank you! And ah, who really knows where I go for days at a time sometimes. Well, besides this case of unshakable Spring Fever, Many Festivity and Big-Large Happy Events have ensued:

- had a damn-fine birthday
- went out for some sushi
- with 9 rare people on this green earth
- poked around at some sea urchin
- ate it (not sure why, but it may have been the sake*)

*ok, so it was kind of a self-inflicted dare, what's new.


To encapsulate "Why Sea Urchin is Gross":

Oh alright. If "just trust me" isn't a good enough reason, then I'll see if I can make it short:

Besides the fact that it's the prepared gonads of a sea urchin? Hmmm, well lemme think...mainly it's the consistency. It tastes like how a really old book smells, and how a brain might feel being smashed under the 18th wheel of a semi. The more you chew, the more it spreads. In my list of True Hardcore Sushi That Got Me Good, this one ranks up there as Number One, dethroning its worthy opponent, baby octopus. I love most all sushi and sashimi and even big mama octopus. But baby octopus...that was truly like eating a rubber bug.

But as always for some twisted reason, I am glad I finally glad I put that sea cow out to pasture and tried that dang sea urchin. Gee. Maybe I am all grown up now.

I doubt it. In retrospect, the best part was the right-of-passage and the bonding experience. (Thank you for the piece o' uni, Doug!) Passage into what is yet to be decided. But now I don't have to get that mermaid tattoo I've had my eye on. Whew!


Also in the news:
Congratulations to Michael's head for getting a brand new job at St. Jude. Lunch?



And finally, I may be moving/revamping soon.
I don't know yet. My Blogger has been crapping out lately, has yours? Misbehaving and such. Pukin' posts and draggin' ass around. Gets Many Very Big-Large Annoying to me. Plus, I really want a photoblog. I have tons of pictures haunting me. No really, you know you care. But if and when the time finally comes, I'll leave a link here and a light on for ya.

Because as always, anyone who happens to be reading this is quite possibly one of the greatest people on this fair green earth, totally misunderstood by the General Masses, and that's why you are basically The Shiznit to me. I'd hug you everyday and give you cupcakes if I could. But we'd all go diabetic if I did.

But wouldn't it be worth it?




pic swiped from Domestic Goddess...yummmm...I think she is taking orders, go getcha some!

Damn. Poor BitBit.

Number one, for having been given that name.

And number two, for that hat.

Well, maybe that hat would be number three, and change number two to "for being bred and bought as an accessory." I really am so sorry about that. Please don't let your ancient Chihuahua gods be angered at BritBrit, causing a swarm of angry locusts to descend upon her empty head like a giant straw hat. But it was a toss up between you and a baby.

Gee whiz. That was mean, huh? I don't know what came over me. Oh wait, it's called honesty.

It just makes me wonder what these nutty, rich women do with their chihuahuas after they aren't trendy anymore? Can they be recycled? It's not like they can just be tossed into a drawer with the Digipet...or can they...

Breaking News: Mayor of Peepsville Bites Off Heads.

You love 'em. You hate 'em. Or, you just love to hate 'em. Ah yes, it's at this time of the year that all of our thoughts turn to Peeps. Oh yeah. And the Easter Bunny.

And Peep Jousting...

Peep Research...

Lord of the Peeps...


Do I like Peeps? No.* But for some reason, I really wish I did. I've got the screensaver. It's not like I haven't given Peeps a good try. But to me, it's an eternal mystery...marshmallow is just not a believable candy by itself. I just don't have that kind of faith in marshmallow. To me, marshmallow is an ingredient found inside candy, along with nuts, nougats, caramels and covered in chocolate. Or it's the stuff holding rice crispies together. I'm just sayin'. We all have different beliefs. But I am accepting of Peeps and people who believe in Peeps as a candy. Lord knows people spend $80 million yearly on Peeps. They do, too.

I always felt so ripped off when I got Peeps in my Easter Basket. So empty. Betrayed, as if somehow, this magical Easter Bunny just had no idea who I was and what I liked. "What is wrong with a simple Snickers," I thought. "Or maybe some Peanut M&M's...who is this bunny...and how does he hide everyone's eggs in one night...and how the hell did he get in my room...what is that stain on the carpet...where did this big bruise come from?"

Which only represents bigger problems I have: questioning free candy, and "suspending disbelief" I guess it's called. For example: I wanted to like the 3 Stooges. I really did. Like Peeps, I'm not sure why I wanted to like them, but I did. However, even as a tiny kid watching these three guys rip all the electrical wires out of a wall, or dump flour on each other successively, all I could think of was, "Man. Who in the hell is gonna clean that up?" I didn't care if they beat each other with hammers. I just wanted to know who was going to refinish the water-damaged ground floor.

Anyway, it's all a mystery. Mysteries are good. Whether you really truly believe or doubt Peeps' existence as a candy altogether, Happy Spirit of PeepDay to everyone. Witness the miracle of how they completely resurrect themselves every year here in the little town of Peepsville.



*Hey, I've got it. After all these years, here's my suggestion: Chocolate covered Peeps, preferably Dove chocolate. Ta daa. Oh yeah. And world peace. Almost forgot world peace...

Oh man, I forgot to tell you, I've been at a wedding.

Wait, correction: Been in a wedding. There's a difference, you see. No, I'm not Mormon and marrying Mr. Right v2. It was my friend Katherine who got married. We love you, Katherine! Drink a fruity one on the beach of St. Croix for us!

Anyway, it was a fun thing. I know she'd have rather been on the beach in Belize for the whole thing (We gave it a good try though, didn't we, K?). But the most amazing part of it to me was her friends, and how apparently, I had no idea about Such Women. No idea. Not in high school, not in college, nowhere. Not until Katherine's wedding. Yeah, I got a glimpse of it at Jacquie's pre-wedding festivities, but I thought her group of girlfriends were just some happy, freak accident.

Basically, I figured it out: Until now, I've been robbed.

It's such an extraordinary thing and such a positive relief that Katherine has assembled such an extremely nice group of girlfriends existing in the world today. I was wondering where all the decent girls went, and apparently it was New York city. And New Jersey. And Connecticut, and Boston and Atlanta. And best of all, Tampa. I'm waving atcha now, Dr. Beth, can you see me?

Who knew that there is nothing better than Genuinely Nice Females. I mean it. Mostly, I've liked guys much better because they settle differences easier than girls. They take each other out in the yard, punch each other in the face, and then go have a pizza and a pitcher of beer. Genuinely Nice Females make the world a really good place. It's consumed me.

I wish I'd had more of those kinds around in high school and college. Dammit. In retrospect, being around the Genuinely Nice Females made me realize the kind of females I've run across in my whole lifetime were not the ones I wanted at all. I thought they were all alike. But no. They were just Those Girls. You know what I mean. The ones who not only ruin it for everybody else, but actually enjoy ruining it.

One good thing came about because of Those Girls though. I believe the reason someone decided for the first time in history to run over someone else with an automobile was because of Those Girls. Works as long as you aren't one of Those Girls.

Huh. Well. I'll be damned. It's such a relief to me to realize all this. That in fact, maybe I have been Just Damned for a while. And now, Un...Damned. IT IS TO A WORD. It is now. Anyways...

Genuinely Nice Females are fun because:

They like to go for margaritas. One or two, but maybe not three because three makes them dance.

They like the smell of coconut lipgloss.

They can even make you look forward to sweaty seasons like summer by talking about vacations at the beach.

Not only to they persuade you to buy pink sandals, but they also let you borrow their polish for your nails.

They tell you that you'd make the best mother ever, and they have no idea why they know that for certain except for *female intution,* no questions asked.

They compliment you on your dress, but compliment you even more when you tell them how much you didn't pay for it.

The best part about Genuinely Nice Females is that, even though you are standing under fluorescent lighting that makes even the 2-year olds in the room have bags under their eyes, and you know for certain that you look like a wilted zombie, the Genuinely Nice Females tell you that you look, as they say, absolutely gorgeous.

And, instead of telling you that your hair has gone bad in the back (something which you'd never know unless someone told you), they ask if they could "touch up your curls with a curling iron." And then you feel like a pink kitten with sparkles. Or a tiny, fuzzy chick.

These are the girls I've always heard about who actually sit around and have a good time eating cookie dough while talking about how flabby their arms have gotten. They aren't the ones who try to be the spotlight, or blind you with your own. They just want to hang out and maybe have pizza and definitely a pitcher of beer.

And I figured it out. The reason they do all this is for no real reason except that they hope you would do the same for them. It makes everyone feel good.

Genuinely Nice Girls also get choked up at this point and hug you, but not too hard.

Where the hell have they been all my life? I was wondering where they were. Thank you, God. No, really.

See. Now that's a tagline.


Thank you, Jacquie-Wac, for the Marmite website. Nicely-wicely done. I can't say whether I'd love Marmite or hate it. I actually like brussel sprouts, so I'm not too special for Marmite. But I can only take so much abuse for liking unloved things which are good for me. And since Marmite is spent brewer's yeast and not a strawberry iced vanilla cupcake, odds are I wouldn't get the attraction.

The closest I've ever come to Marmite is unscrewing the lid of ugly cousin vegemite and giving it a sniff. I don't remember much after that. But it reminds me of the time I ordered sea urchin and then just stared at it for the rest of dinner. It looked exactly like a human tongue and smelled like extremely salty fishwater. Not that pretty blue kind. The kind that stands still and has some murk to it. So the waitress finally took it away and said "I was wonderin' why you ordered that. Guys come in here, sit up at th' bar an' get drunk an' dare each other ta eat that."

Shorten that up a little, and it'd make a decent tagline maybe.

...Wow...

I don't even know what to say about this Uco Ice Cream Ball. I bet they sell a million of 'em.

Exercise makes ice cream? That certainly is a novel idea for an average American consumer to swallow. Don't you think? I mean, I don't know whether to laugh or cry. Or both. Exercise makes ice cream. No, machines make exercise, like BowFlex. Blue Bunny makes ice cream. The advertising industry...they...they didn't train us on how to...to accept this one. The ads, the ads they always say, y'know, easy is better, rich is good, money equals more and more equals money. Zoom-zoom-zoom Mazda 4-door coupe.

Pottery Barn/Ikea/Target/Nordstroms/Macys/Kohl/Walmart/KMart
McDonald's I'm Lovin' It
Burger King "the breasts they grow on trees"
Cottonelle Toilet Paper Less is More
MarthaStewartReleased-PepsodentClean-Scope-Listerine
Rembrandt-CrestWhiteningStrips-SuperGripPolident
ICANTBELIEVEITSNOTBUTTERRR---




"No, Madge, it's not really bacon. It's just my brain on fire!"

You have to sign up in the end, but what idiot couldn't figure that out, right?

Ok, so my IQ today was 113. Damn you, Math: The ever-shrinking box on my beer-soaked brain. Seven more points, and I could've squeaked into the "Superior" category and felt good about that for about 11 minutes.

That's right, isn't it? 120 - 113 = 7. Okay. See?

Well, it congratulated me. Which is nice. And good because somedays I can't remember how to open a drawer.

It also spits out a synopsis with each score:

"Your Intellectual Type is Word Warrior. This means you have exceptional verbal skills. You can easily make sense of complex issues and take an unusually creative approach to solving problems. Your strengths also make you a visionary. Even without trying you're able to come up with lots of new and creative ideas. And that's just a small part of what we know about you from your test results."

Word Warrior!! GRAGGGGGG (raging forward) GRAGGGG (whipping sweaty, charging steeds) GRRRA-- (ack...swallowed a bug)

Well, it was fun while it lasted.

What the hell! Try it. You know deep down, you really want to -- it's fun. Besides, THE WORD WARRIOR COMMANDS YOU.

This I love. It looks simple enough, but the content underneath is far from sketchy. How witty of me, huh? Well, I had to at least try to contribute something there. Anyway, I found ten4design from this link from JacquieWacq (thank u, JB!), phamous69.com. Warning: Do not enter if you don't feel strongly about free issues with seriously nice bling.

I forget how much I love zefrank.

Why say more?

Except for "TGIF" and so on. Please partake of some zefrank love.

And I know I have posted this before, but daaaaaaaaamn, I love tokyoplastic. Even though it takes a while to load, and especially because of the "drummachine" when you find it, it's so very worth it.

You don't have to register to play on paperdollheaven.com since they have Free Ones like this stylin' Camilla Parker-Bowles. Look at that girlish glow! Ok, so it's not exactly accurate, but it is fun-n-n-n.

En-n-njoy!

A microscopic view of what's battling in my head.

See the fairy bedonkadonk in the top left? It artistically represents my antibiotics to the rescue. I blame digging in The Yarden for all this, so grow roses, grow!

Enjoy!

"May cause drowsiness or sleeplessness."

How do they get away with that drug warning for antihistamines, I wonder. Someone had to write it.

Writer: "So, like...does it make you sleep or keep you up all night?"

Drug scientist: "Yes."

Writer: "Well? What does that mean?"

Drug scientist: "It means for approximately 1-3 nights, you'll sleep like you're in a Jack Daniel's induced coma state, where you'll wake up dry-mouthed and late for work and wear your pants inside-out for half a day before someone tells you. But after 1-3 days, you'll be poked awake, I'd say about...every 20 minutes so you can watch the clock for a few hours, until very late night becomes very early morning..."

Writer: "And so..."

Drug scientist: "And so then you wonder if you should get up and eat all the Robin's Egg Malted Milk balls. You know, the ones you bought *for Easter*. Then you'll think of many random thoughts. Such as:

a.) 'How did the whole concept of Easter featuring a bunny come into play?'
b.) 'Is he a religious bunny? Did Santa train him in the art of delivering all those eggs, in one dark night, and worldwide?'
c.) 'What is that horrible metallic taste in my mouth?'
d.) 'Is that the dog snoring peacefully, or is someone trying to break into this house with a saw?'
e.) 'Easter. Where Jesus pops his head out and, if he sees his shadow, there's 6 more weeks of winter to go...'

...That thought, however funny it may seem at the time, is usually accompanied by a strong sensation of guilt."

Writer: "So...instead of saying 'It is the best of drugs, it is the worst of drugs' -- "

Drug scientist: "Hoo boy, Judy Blume, that stinks already! (Snort!)"

Writer: "Hmm." (while wondering in his head, which is really better -- monster.com or careerbuilder.com) "So instead of saying 'Enjoy the Russian roulette. We hope the chamber is not loaded, blah blahh, not really our problem'--"

Drug scientist: "Are we going to be here all day? I need to go test this new nicotine lipgloss on a blinded, shaved rabbit."

Writer: "Ok, (chanting 'please forgive me' in his head, over and over to make the moment pass easier) 'May cause drowsiness or sleeplessness.' Can I at least mention the Robin's Eggs Malted Milk Ball thing as a suggestion?"

In my leetle-tiny world, ve have ze leetle-tiny red shrimps.

Man, I want one of these ecospheres.

I want the giant 500$ one. Boy, that'd be one less bad cat in the world if Googie knocked it off the table though.


"For best results:
- Do not shake!
- Supply 6-12 hours of light a day
- Avoid direct sunlight
- Keep temperature at 60-85°F"

Wow! Add the occasional snowfall in and that sounds like a description of me. Maybe I'm more of a shaky snowball person instead. Maybe that's why I have 1.2 billion of them already.

Ok. Maybe it's only 1.2 million. Sheesh, can't I embellish just a little? It's my tiny world!

I've never done good things.

I've never done bad things.

I never did anything out of the blue (to deserve an iPod Mini). Whoa whoa.



So why did Ron give me an engraved iPod Mini for an early birthday? maybe he's trying to kill me with joy. And it's pink, no less. I have no idea how I got so lucky sometimes. Plus, he's stocked the iTunes with figuratively mad chunks of musical happiness. He pointed to the remaining stacks of vinyl over there and said "that's going in next." Man. I love Sir Ron Mix-a-lot.

I wanted to christen shimmery Babycakes the Mini properly with The Buggles' "Video Killed the Radio Star" since that was the first music video I ever saw, which thankfully altered everything in me and around me like so.

But since I couldn't wait really, I had to do the only right thing and play the only other correct choice: Biz Markie's "You Got What I Need." Then some David Bowie. Squeeze. Plimsouls. Psychedelic Furs. OKGo. Police. They Might Be Giants, and so on. And I still have, like, over 3 gigs left to go.

Thank you, Apple in California. Thank you, China.

Ashes to ashes, funk to funky, we know Major Tom's a junkie.

Plus I added in Takako Minekawa's "Fantastic Cat" and (thanks to my new hero in New Jersey), Dragostea Din Tei's "Mi Ya Hee." Which completely fits into the past couple o' days-turned-weeks' theme of how I love good people who don't give one solid rat's ass and Just Do Things, comma and period. Kerpow. Now, everybody dance!

I'm stuck with a valuable friend. I'm happy, hope you're happy, toooo...

Thank you, Rrronnnn xxx ooo xxx

Got-damm.

I forget how much I like people sometimes.

Whoever this kid is, you are my brand new hero. I have no doubt he'd share in my love of Klaus Nomi. And, I bet Lawrence Lessig would smile proudly on this remix of culture.

And superthanks to Jacquie for forwarding this email and making my life a happier place all around.


-----Original Message-----


"this guy was on nbc and has become the hottest viral in the world right now. he's getting about a million hits a day. google search the 'numa numa dance' "

better yet : http://www3.ns.sympatico.ca/lyle_24/myhero.swf

for the story

go to - http://msnbc.msn.com/id/6987134/

One day, I swear, I will be cool and have a website like this. I will, too. Stop laughing!! Why are you laughing at me, I will too have a cool site one day!

*sigh*