I'm down with OCD.

It's not that I actually believe in reincarnation or not, but I swear if there's such a thing, I was a little girl who lived somewhere simpler and stark with clean frosty air. And just barely grew up but loved tiny pink and white frosted cakes and silky soft kittens and all things that sparkled. Nice and clean, sharp and focused, with shining rhinestoned hi-rise buildings in the dark and electronic video game noises following everywhere she went.

Shirt origami made me late to work this morning. No, really.

Enter now. You could win. No, really!

Go to

http://www.fineliving.com/fine/home/

and click the image for sweepstakes info. Aren't the headers superfly? (Say yes because I slaved over them!) Awww, thank you! (APPLAUSE SIGN here).

Time for a nice red wine. Or two. Three, four.

Has your long week just gotten longer? Take the sting out of it. Put your feet up, toss another log on the fire and accidentally set the cat ablaze. The elections are over, and does it really matter? Put your differences aside and have another drink. "To your beautiful eyes, Ralph Nader"...

redwoodcreekwine.com

Neato screensaver. Heck yeah I downloaded it. I ain't afraid of no virus attack. Hiiii-YAH!!

Very cool:

Five links down on this page, behold the many accolades for a co-workers' project here chosen by How Design!

A cryptic speech from me:
"Yallun's go'headd an' rock it like a fin muhfuh wifout yer crackberries, aiighmain: listen all that, speakin in cooode: BECRE8IV. maki maki. Hollah. YEUUHH."

Don't ask, I have no idea. But it's from the heart.

Which reminds me -- please peruse the super-dandy, spit-polished, hand-tossed, thin-and-crispy brand new ihatemike.com. I can't speak the jive without thinking about D.J. Jazzy Mike, now can I? You guys, if you want some work from him, you best get in line and bring a book. He's in demand.




Anyway....

Herro again.

Ok, so what I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted by "Life and The Evil Virii Produced by Terrible Nerds" was...oh, see that is so typical. Now I can't remember. Gone. And nothing on my pda about it. So typical. And just this useless note of scribble that I left myself as a reminder...







Wait, maybe if I walk in the next room, I will remember what it was I was saying...

Nope. No luck. However, in that next room (pause) there is candy. Tiny, evil candy. Ok. Calm. I won't walk in that room again until January, I think. Because here comes the Double-O-Cee* holiday onslaught. I vow not to badmouth the holiday season though. Not yet anyway.

So, I went to a great Halloween party last night. It's always alarming to me that I can walk into my closet and make a perfectly acceptable costume in less that 7 minutes, but I can stand in that same closet every morning for 32 minutes and just stare blankly at the lack of professional options, and end up wearing "something black, something denim" yet again. Very scary, indeed.

Therefore, I've finally decided that I should either make the proverbial effort and care more, or just go ahead and dress like one of the Go-Go's for the next 10 years and be done with it.**

So. I ended up with a short pleated skirt (black) with a punk silkscreened tank (black) with fishnets (yes, black) that I ripped up and topped off with my camo fake-combat boots (yes with black and more delicate than they sound, no really). Finish it off with a cat-ear headband, rhinestoned (YES! of course black, implied from now on) collar with a bell, and crushed velvet gloves.

Then I colored one eye blue in a cat-eye fashion and colored the other a maroon-and-green variety like I got popped in the eye good for smarting off to some fellow anarchist, I suppose. Or maybe it was the establishment. Who knows. I tried to apply some fake eyelashes (why of course we all have those lying around), but that was just ridiculously hard so nevermind. Finishing touch was red hairpaint (don't ask) applied to the four fingertips and scratched at random on the neck and arms. Oh and then I added a little splatter of blood from one nostril (imagining the fight started with the bloody nose then to black eye) with a trickle of blood from the corner of my mouth (I might choose to bite, you never know). This costume I deemed as The Cat Fight.

Ron pointed out that I also looked like a brunette Courtney Love on a good day. Instead of over-thinking it, I took it as a compliment and I decided on another name that I could deem the costume: Kitney Love.

I guess the costume was somewhat effective. I had a quick yet eternal conversation with a girl there that, if I could boil down my life and keep the good bones, all taken out of context, this would be one of my favorites:

"You were in a Subteens' video, right? A zombie, right?"
"Yeah. The one eating a foot."
"Yeah! I thought that was you!"

See, in a perfect world, that's really all anybody should want out of life: For someone to recognize them as a zombie who chewed on a rubber foot covered with Hershey's chocolate syrup. No, really. I mean it. It's certainly good enough for me.

Which only reminds me of, like, 1.2 billion things I was going to tell you, but I gotta huge laundry monster on the bathroom floor that I gotta kill.







*Double-O-Cee = OOC = Out Of Control. Cee? Si.

**Actually, I really decided to just flake out instead and go with my current wardrobe choice for the rest of my life until they plant my body in the cold, hard ground like a black-and-denim seed. Why? Less effort, more retirement funds. Yes, I'm motivated and therefore accessorized by fear. I'm afraid I'll live longer than financially anticipated and ironically enough be forced to exits on an All-Catfood Diet. Unless of course it's sushi. Then nevermind. In fact, just stop reading this sentence -- are you still reading this sentence? Stop that! Go chew on a rubber foot -- it's liberating and more inspirational and recommended by 9 out of 10 dentists. Go fly, my children, be free!

Not dead yet: Only a computer virus.

And doing way too much stuff after work, too. What's that all about.

Basically, a stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid computer virus hijacked my computer at work and the dog ate my homework. No, really. So this is me checking in with absolutely nothing to say. Except boomshanka, I am addicted to computers and I know why they are called "a virus" because I'm not feeling so well myself after all this.

I feel my brain going on a vacation for some reason. It's definitely stunned from the void of electronic stimulation. Maybe it's the full moon. Or the eclipse. Or that I've woken up for the past five days in a row thinking it's Saturday, only to slowly realize it's not. How nice that'll be after tomorrow night. And after Daylight Savings time change.

Lots of things have gone down: Automusik won the Best of Show at the Memphis Indie Festival (yaaayyyyy). I met a guy named Pritchard who is a genuine crackhead and apparently I don't like genuine crackheads since they scare me and bore me at the same time. But it was fun screaming and/or watching people scream at him, especially Ron. I think he needed to scream at someone. Very cleansing. I kind of wish he'd show up right now so I could scream at him more. My voice cracks to remind me that it wasn't just a bad dream. Actually, it was a good time in retrospect.

Let's see...I'll be back soon with something to talk about...I miss you guys AW!!

Damn funny:

http://www.nike.com/usa/nikesphere/

Things I've Been Thinking About = You Haven't Missed Much Outta Me


http://www.blavod.com/

some type of glow-in-the-dark liqueur I read about in Star Magazine that I can't find online

Britney Spears is still married and looks like a bulldog and is easy to make fun of

East Side Story was a good movie

The Surreal Life 2 starring Eric Estrada, Tammy Faye, two drunk girls -- one with regular boobs and another with giant-sized ones, and Vanilla Ice*

http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/tv/aptv_story.asp?category=1401&slug=TV+O

http://www.thesmokinggun.com/archive/1013043mackris1.html

http://www2.foxsearchlight.com/huckabees/

http://film.guardian.co.uk/news/story/0,,1320095,00.html

http://www.enquirer.com/editions/2004/02/18/tem_people18badu.html

http://www.adcritic.com/gfx/print/pdf/archerbeck-exhib041014.pdf
(In my exasperatingly small product-of-my-environment type of life, it's always bothered me that there are only two guys to vote for [or against] in an American Presidential election. Although this topic can be hotly debated easily, I'm not trying to start a debate, I promise. I am as useless as an ice tray in hell when it comes to political debates, I'll admit that anyday. Unless you want to debate which is funnier, Yosemite Sam or Bugs Bunny, I am almost totally useless, but for the most part fun to be around...

But it just seems to me like we should treat Presidential elections more like American Idol or Survivor or some other painful reality show. You like how I announce that with such confidence -- as if I watch those two shows in particular? No. But as a warped American overdosed on fake reality, I say we should make them take tests -- of faith, courage and old-fashioned wits -- and see who's got the actual nurtz to eat a wriggling handful of grubs covered with cow's blood. Honestly, sit about 5 to 7 candidates out in a hot car in Alabama in July and see who does what. Seems like it would solve itself and narrow down the odds in the first show at least...

I like this thought...

I also want to know who can sing Disney's "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" the best...

underwater...

Anyway, yes, it's the free country part where you can write in your own candidate. But it's not the same. If I wrote in Ron as a candidate, will the FBI start a file on him? Or maybe I should say, would they start another file on him...

Although if Ron did become President, he would issue better looking banknotes with more colors and watermarks and maybe even use that cool untearable Tyvek stuff. Also, he'd make it a law that if you are attending an athletic event and you are even one minute late, you'd be locked out because getting there late is just rude...

Do I have a point? I like sparkly objects like diamonds and more diamonds. And that's all I know.)


Mystery solved: Patty is coming out in a gay marriage on The Simpsons. I'm always the last to know and the first to care. Patty is the one with the big round afro and Selma is the one with the triangle-shaped frodoo, right? Just checking.




*Since Ron has been out of town (his dad had a heart attack but is much better now), I have been staying up like a vampire watching marathons -- this one just happened to be VH1's Surreal Life 2. You know how I feel about *real* reality shows, but this -- this is actual entertainment to me. Of course, I am fascinated by people who were once big stars and now, just coping with it.


OoooOoooOooOOOOOOoooooo....me want thissss...sparklyyy an' pinnkkk..."hello there, Kitty, would you like to be our new President?"

Yay! Thanks for the good news, Jersh.

Office' politics return for holiday party
David Brent is back, but seriously humbled.

Acclaimed British mockumentary The Office returns with a final two-hour episode that revisits the crew of Slough paper company Wernham Hogg and offers — for once — a happy ending.
"We wanted some closure," says Golden Globe winner Ricky Gervais, who plays the cringe-worthy Brent and wrote and directed the series with Stephen Merchant. "We thought we tortured people enough with the existential bleakness of life."

When we last left The Office after two six-episode seasons, Brent had been fired, Gareth promoted, and Tim ditched by receptionist Lucy. The Office Special , due Oct. 21 on BBC America (9 p.m. ET/PT) and Nov. 16 on DVD, picks up three years later.
"It's the worst of both worlds," Gervais says. Brent's "shot at fame went wrong; he's now infamous, and he's worming his way back into a job he lost" by hanging around with his former employees.

The special revolves around plans for an office Christmas party that reunites the group, for the last time. But NBC plans its own faithful version of the series* starring Steve Carell, due next year, and Gervais is working on new BBC sitcom Extras , playing a struggling bit-part actor.

*Ugh. This will never be as funny as the original. Just give me the production budget instead and I'll throw it up into the air and run under it myself. Now that's entertainment.

On more than one occasion: upon my return from work : a good dog gone bad : a violent death to a value-sized box of Meow Mix*













*The box of Meow Mix was sketched-in from memory by an eyewitness (other than me) to this heinous crime.

New energy beer to try, huh?

"A-B PUTS B-TO-THE-E IN BEER"

"CHICAGO - Anheuser-Busch's answer to the spirit industry's penetration of the beer drinking target consumer will be called B-to-the-E (B with an E superscript), a caffeinated beer flavored with guarana, ginseng and other natural flavors including the aromas of black berry, raspberry and cherry. The new brew, dubbed on packaging as the 'Beer with something extra' will launch in November in undisclosed test markets in sleek 10-ounce cans featuring the Budweiser B. Distribution will expand to about half the country by year-end. BE will be slightly more expensive than Budweiser and Bud Light and traditional advertising aimed at the 21-27 year old coed target will be confined to print and POP. An agency assignment is pending."

Drink a six-pack of these with a big bag of Wow Potato Chips and it's bang-zoom, to the moon, Alice! You know me. I can't wait.