Friday Fishwrap

BOO I don't want to

BOO

I don't want to over do the whole halloweeny thing. I have my costume and will post a pic sometime this weekend. It's pretty fuckin funny if you ask me. Not that you did.

For those of you looking for last minute ideas for your kids try this one: Pimp Daddy

The Realistic Internet Simulator (unless you're Mac User - but yeah, I still get it.) Cleaver.

WRONG WRONG WRONG It's All Just So Wrong!

Dr. Toast's Amazing World of Toast. "I strongly believe that Toast is the very thread which holds together the uneasy seams of modern society." Well alright-y then...

Fun and often funny So You Wanna is a great how-to site.

How long did you think it would take for conspiracy theories to pop up? The (possible) Assassination of Paul Wellstone. To my good friends in Minn. I do not intend to make light of your loss. Paul Wellstone was the last of the great radicals.

In other new: Winona had her first day in court yesterday. It was her birthday. I sent her a cake (with file) but I don't think she got it. Honestly, looking at this outfit? Give the girl a break - she needs some new clothes!

In tribute to the Fishwraps

In tribute to the Fishwraps olden golden days, here's a couple of yuck yucks for ya.

A Nuns Story

A cab driver picks up a nun. She gets into the cab, and the cab driver won't stop staring at her.

She asks him why he is staring and he replies, "I have a question to ask you but I don't want to offend you."

She answers: "My dear son, you cannot offend me. When you're as old as I am and have been a nun as long as I have, you get a chance to see and hear just about everything. I'm sure that there's nothing you could say or ask that I would find offensive."

"Well, I've always had a fantasy to have a nun kiss me." She responds,

Well, let's see what we can do about that: #1, you have to be single and #2 you must be a Catholic."

The cab driver is very excited and says, "Yes, I am single and I'm Catholic too!"

The nun says, "OK, pull into the next alley." He does and the nun fulfills his fantasy.

But when they get back on the road, the cab driver starts crying. "My dear child." said the nun, "Why are you crying?"

"Forgive me sister, but I have sinned. I lied, I must confess, I'm married and I'm a Baptist."

The nun says, "That's OK, I am on the way to a Halloween party, and my name is Kevin."

Acme Costume Co.
A bald man with a wooden leg gets invited to a Halloween party. He doesn't know what costume to wear to hide his head and his leg so he writes to a costume company to explain his problem. A few days later he received a parcel with the following note:

Dear Sir,

Please find enclosed a pirate's outfit. The spotted handkerchief will cover your bald head and, with your wooden leg, you will be just right as pirate.

Very truly yours,
Acme Costume Co.

The man thinks this is terrible because they have just emphasized his wooden leg and so he writes a letter of complaint. A week goes by and he receives another parcel and a note, which says:

Dear Sir,

Please find enclosed a monk's habit. The long robe will cover your wooden leg and, with your bald head, you will really look the part.

Very truly yours,
Acme Costume Co.

Now the man is really upset since they have gone from emphasizing his wooden leg to emphasizing his bald head, so again he writes the company another nasty letter of complaint. The next day he gets a small parcel and a note, which reads:

Dear Sir,

Please find the enclosed bottle of molasses. Pour the molasses over your bald head, stick your wooden leg up your ass and go as a caramel apple.

Very truly yours,
Acme Costume Co.

An Oldie but a Goody
An extremely modest man was in the hospital for a series of tests, the last of which had left his bodily systems extremely upset.

Upon making several false alarm trips to the bathroom, he figured that the latest episode was just that, so he stayed put. Suddenly, however, he filled his bed with diarrhea and was embarrassed beyond his ability to remain rational. In a complete loss of composure, he jumped out of bed, gathered up the bed sheets, and threw them out the hospital window.

A drunk was walking by the hospital when the sheets landed on him. The drunk started yelling, cursing, and swinging his arms violently, in an attempt to free himself of the sheets. He ended up with the soiled sheets in a tangled pile at his feet.

As the drunk stood there, staring down at the sheets, a hospital security guard who had witnessed the entire incident, walked up to him and asked, "What the hell is going on?"

"I just beat the shit out of a ghost."

courtesy of the missus' corney uncle paul

I've had it with YACCS.

I've had it with YACCS. I'm trying out a new commenting host. Sorry about losing all your brilliant witty comments. Feel free to comment again.

How to lose track of

How to lose track of time
Start messing around with SodaPlay. It took me a few minutes to get the hang of it. But that was over an hour ago.

Nothin says I love you

Nothin says I love you like hip-hop kittens.

WHO has too much time on their hands?

Good stuff from the good folks at B3ta:
More fun that it should be: Singing Horses! Click on their mouths to make them sing.

Freshy Fresh Flash Optical Illusions from those friggin brainiacs over at MIT.

A new Rubics Cube. Now with astronauts!

From the makers of the "Velcro Mullet": Camel Toe Cup! Dishwasher Safe.

OlderDykes.org is a cool new Australian site for - you guessed - older dykes. I was into it until this photo popped up.

What up with the Cruella hair do? It's more of a hair don't babe.

It's driving me crazy! Who

It's driving me crazy! Who the hell sings this song?!

Thanks to Robyn over at smackTHEweasel for getting it stuck in my head. I'll see you in hell my friend.

When you win, say nothing.

When you win, say nothing. When you lose, say less.
Paul Brown

Fuck that! Actually, my congratulations to the Angels. While I firmly believe that without the help of the Giants, they could not have won, I still tip my hat. Now, as for those idiots at the Beer Hunter who insisted on pounding those friggin Thunderstix throughout the entire game -pounding the table, pounding each other, pounding anything - that must have been your little yellow bus in the parking lot right? Sorry about the flat.

Just a little tip from

Just a little tip from me to you, friend

If you've not had carbs or sugar in a while, perhaps the way to go is a nice slow reacclimation to the world of sweet treats. Not my head first maniacal dive into the abyss.

For future reference, I do not recommend eating 4 TastyKakes, 2 KandyKakes, an Oreo, half a bear claw, a small bag of cheetos, some salt water taffy, fried chicken, potato salad and 2 king hawaiian dinner rolls - all in less than a 24 hour time span. Add PMS, 4 beers, a pathetic mid-relief choke in game six, a Carls Jr. Famous Star burger, some fries, 3 diet cokes, turning the clocks back, 2 three month old kittens, and a depressing yet compelling late night documentary narrated by Susan Sarandon and I can pretty much guarantee a horrible nights sleep.

Can you say "cranky?" I knew ya could.

Gretchen's been on a queen

Gretchen's been on a queen bitch rant. Now, I tried to take the "what pisses you off?" quiz she posted, but for some reason I kept getting a blank blue page. That really pisses me off damn it. You wanna know what else pisses me off? Here's the short list off the top of my head:

When they don't empty my goddamn ashtray at the car wash
Whiners
Tests of the emergency broadcast system
Parking meters
A dirty coffee spoon on the edge of the sink
Reformed fundamentalist non-smokers
People who take cell phone calls while talking to me
On that note ... call waiting
Stupid people
Toast crumbs in the butter
Splitting the check (see: whiners)
My neighbors dog Brutus.
Refilled ketchup bottles
The 8am - 12pm window
Gum-snappers
The middle seat
Cat piss
Improper use of the turn signal
Hang-ups
Ignorant homophobic asses (see: stupid people)
People who show up half an hour late
Junk Mail
People who can't keep their big fat ass mouths shut.
Infomercials
A squeeze when I asked for a twist

Thank you - I feel much better now. It's Saturday - nobody reads this damn thing on the weekends anyway.

Now I'm off to my cousins to watch Game Six. We might briefly switch over during the commercials to ESPN2 to view the carnage that will be the Michigan State - Wisc. game. It won't be pretty, I'm sure.

Can I get a WooHoo

Can I get a WooHoo in da House?

The following will probably mean nothing to you unless you are a baseball fan.

Child's Play. Go Daddy-O! Jeff Kent finally produced. And they say Pac Bell is a Pitchers Paradise... No so for Mr. corn fed cheese bred Wisconsin boy. He just oozes the midwest doesn't he? What a fantastic game, if you're a Giants fan. If you're an Angels fan - uh... I'd like to send my condolence to the primate. Little D had a close call there at home plate, but apparently, it didn't effect his future in mining. You'd think with all those long balls last night we'd be feasting on tacos in a few weeks but who am I to complain? I prefer El Pollo Loco anyway. Tomorrow it's back to the land of ThunderStix[tm] to put the final nail in the coffin. Hold the presses: the Missus surprised me yesterday by rattling off a few stats... Has the earth truly shifted on it's axis?

Speaking of the Missus, she returns today - Yippie! I've not dwelt on the the fact that she's been gone since Monday, because the last time I did that I got completely freaked about being here alone and it ended up costing me big getting an alarm sytem installed. This time I just focused on getting a few jobs done around the house to fill the time. I've finished scalping, dethatching and overseeding the lawn, a charming seasonal chore of killing a perfectly good lawn in hopes of growing a new, yet different, perfectly good lawn to last you though the winter. I stained the back patio - a chore that I thought couldn't take more than an hour or two, but instead, turned into a two day-er. And of course, the house has never been cleaner. Hurry home baby before I collapse and mess the place up!

Back to our regularly scheduled

Back to our regularly scheduled programming

Now that we've gotten Blog as Therapy out of the way - how 'bout some fun stuff?

Now, back in my day, "Spankin' Bush" meant something completely different.

Another lovely Redneck Gallery

PessiMystic Meg This is what horoscopes do for me folks.

Simon Swears - Caution: May not be suitable for a work environment or people offended by the word "cunt".

I'm not a lego freak - I swear. I just keep stumbling across these things. Lego Death

Fifties Boulevard. Some great archival stuff - they could use a little help in the "interiors" section but the Car Gallery is amazing.

Always call first. You never know... 3 MB MPEG

I was looking through my stats here and it seems Thursdays are slow days for most folks and I get a lot of traffic. I think I might change the name to the Thursday Fishwrap. Nawww... doesn't sound right.

In other news: The boys came through last night! I stayed home and listened to it on the 'ol AM radio instead of making my way to the Beer Hunter. It was a lot cheaper too! The only thing that bugged me: through the whole game, the play by play guy kept calling Kurt Rueter "Reeter" ... that's So. Cal. for ya'. Go Giants!

I don't even want to

I don't even want to talk about game three last night. But I will in a round-about way.

This is a long one and not the least bit funny, so if you are looking for a chuckle, maybe check back later today.

Saturday night as I was getting ready to go see game one at the aforementioned Beer Hunter, I had a panic attack. Triggered by a flashback to a situation that was eerily similar.

I don't how many of you have been through a major natural disaster and probably even fewer of you have experienced post traumatic stress as a result, but it can stay with you for a very long time.

13 years ago, almost to the day, I had just gotten off work (I worked as a house painter) and was getting out of the shower. I had plans to meet some buds at the bar (Amelia's on Valencia - long since gone now) to watch the SF Giants in the World Series. I was tired from a hard days work and the bitch of an early commute home from the jobsite in Marin. I was really looking forward to having a few beers with my friends and watching the Giants beat Oakland.

5:04 PM - Suddenly, everything began to shake, to creak, to heave in ways previously unthinkable. I fell to my knees. I was paralyzed. All I could do was just hang on to the sink. 15 seconds felt like at least 4 minutes. Everything was happening in slow motion. The sheer volume of thoughts that a brain can process in that amount of time is amazing. The noise was deafening.

My life did NOT flash before my eyes, as legend would have it. Instead the one thought that kept resurfacing is that they were going to find my naked body in a pile of rubble. Where were my clothes? Goddamn it. I was going to be one of those friggin' naked bodies you see them bring out on a stretcher on TV. That would be my legacy. Great. Odd isn't it? That at a time when life or death truly seems to hang in mid-air, that would be my primary concern.

It didn't stop. It just kept getting stronger and stronger and I waited. I waited for my building to collapse around me. There was no way in hell that a house could withstand this kind of brutal punishment and still remain upright. I am ready to die. Just make it stop.

And it did. Just as suddenly and violently as it began. It just stopped.

I opened the bathroom door, expecting to see cracked plaster and daylight through the studs of my ruins. But everything was fine. Not a crack to be found. Then I thought of my cat, Jack, last seen sunning on the open window ledge 2 stories above the street. He wasn't there, but had been smart enough to get under the bed and he wasn't coming out for anything - could you blame him?

It didn't compute. How could I have just felt the earth move 4 feet in all four directions and not have any damage? Was this a dream? I threw some clothes on and wandered out to the street, for reasons I can't explain. My neighbor came out too. Then slowly everyone came out. Looking around in disbelief. We all kind of nodded without saying a word. My neighbor turned to me and said "That was big. That was big. Too big." We didn't have any power, but everything looked okay. Then a guy came down the sidewalk with a boom box. We learned that the Bay Bridge had collapsed. Everyone silently turned around and went back inside...

As I sat alone in the dark through the night watching the glow of the Marina fire, enduring all the aftershocks, I listened to my little battery powered work radio - it was all call-in talk. Listening to everyones reports of damage and death, the horror of what had happened began to sink in. How many people were dead? They were putting the numbers up into the hundreds - thousands - nobody had any idea. Watsonville, the Cypress, The Marina, The Bridge. Think what you will of baseball, but that silly little ball game back in 1989 at Candlestick saved thousands and thousands of lives.

I wrestled with PTSD for more than a year after the earthquake. The panic attacks would strike at odd times, usually when I was in a crowd of people. As my chest tightened, my breath quickened and the sweat began to pour off my brow - all I wanted to do was GET HOME. My home. The home that saved my life. The house that could withstand anything.

Thankfully, I haven't had a panic attack in at least 7 years. But last Saturday, getting ready to go watch the game, standing naked before my sink - I looked in the mirror and was gripped with fear. It was all too familiar.

Last night - Sitting there in my '89 Survivor t-shirt, watching the replay of the '89 telecast, it didn't bother me so much because, unlike the rest of the nation, that was not my reality. I never saw that -we didn't have power (and thus no TV images) for 3 days. But put me in a parallel situation and I'm frozen. There are 5 million stories out there about that day, mine is just one of them. I never, ever, want to go through that again.

Son of a BITCH! I

Son of a BITCH!

I have rarely been so jealous in my entire life. I can feel my neck tensing up... My good friend the oddgirl is going to game three tomorrow. The lucky god damn friggin' err..grrr grumble.

Me? I have to go to the fucking Beer Hunter. Yes, you read that right. The Beer Hunter. It's a big ass sports bar with 57 TV's and oozes so much straight guy testosterone it sticks to your shoes. I don't get FOX on my Sat dish here in the friggin sticks (yes, I have bitched and bitched to DirecTV to no avail) so I have to drive 10 miles to sports bar hell to watch the game(s). And to pour salt on the wound - I'm in Angel country. Even though the only reason these people are Angel fans is because the Dodgers are big fat losers and they'll root for any team as long as it's not the Giants.

Last night I was one of four - yes, count them, four - Giants fans in the whole place.

You go Oddgirl. Enjoy yourself. Have some fucking garlic fries for me. I love ya, but you're lucky I'm not close enough to kidnap you and roll you for those damn tickets.

That poor monkey. Got hit

That poor monkey. Got hit by the SF train. I kinda felt bad for them actually, their first Worlds Series and all... but that only lasted about, oh, 2 seconds. Go Giants!

Recent search strings that lead

Recent search strings that lead some real fucking freaks to my blog:

Yes, cheap content. I fear this may be an accurate summation of my blog.

I can't do anything without my inhaler

I just peed my pants

TGIF Apple has launched a

TGIF
Apple has launched a bunch of Japanese "Switch" ads. Rumor has it that this babe might be the Japanese equivelent to the Ellen Feiss phenomenon.

Looking for that perfect Halloween gag? This mouse just might be the one. It grossed me out and that's not an easy thing to do.

Dancing sites are sooo 1997 but I have to say this one is just fucking beautiful.

Color Test

Name that Beard a silly little thing from B3ta.

StereoTypes Don't let the name fool ya - I could spent an hour here making faces.

How to fuck with the telemarketers script

In other news: Our power went out for a few hours last night. Apparently the wind had something to do with it. Just when I thought it was getting all romantic with the candles everywhere and the Missus was getting antsy about missing Survivor, Whammo - The house lit up again. I love it when the power goes out. it disrupts your whole routine and you have to find interesting ways to get things done, communicate or pass the time. Love that. Also, I met my deadline and everything is off to pre-press and the printer. Right on. I might actually get to relax this weekend.

"The toy area has its

"The toy area has its own distinct odor: sort of a musty, mildewy, plastic, sour-milk, baby-vomit, metallic, rotting-cloth smell," Robichaud said. "It isn't quite the smell of evil—just despair."
The sad, sad story of the goodwill toy section. Makes me think of the Land of Misfit Toys.

Here are some Tips for Staying Safe from the Washington Post. I'm not so sure about the 'Walk briskly in a zigzag fashion" but it did work for me Sunday night in Minneapolis!

If you want to really throw the sniper off, better get yourself one of these.

Friggin' Ikea Those damn Swedes.

Friggin' Ikea
Those damn Swedes. How dare they? How dare they produce a knock off of my vintage mid-century knock off? Now every Ikea "gotta furnish my house in 2 days" lover is gonna have copies of my original copies. Damn them. Thieves.

This fact recently discovered after visiting my friends from NYC, Peter and Chris, in their recently completed remodel. I still love ya! And yes - It looks fantastic. Welcome to Palm Springs.

My Bloginality is ESFP Yup

My Bloginality is ESFP

Yup - Just the same as the Myers-Briggs.

If this trend doesn't just

If this trend doesn't just scream therapy issues. I don't know what does.

Wanna smoke? Try taking a Cyber Cigarette Break. Didn't really do it for me...

More Fun with Lego.

As a kid, did you ever think that if you ate watermelon seeds, a watermelon would grow in your stomach? You're not alone. I Used to Believe

Here's a fun twist on a childhood game: nom d'amour

Oh yeah - and there's that silly little baseball thing too. I can't believe it. You know where I'll be all next week.

Go Giants!

I don't want her, you

I don't want her, you can have her, she's too fat for me. Hey!
I woke up singing the Too Fat Polka this morning. I'm fairly certain that I've never woken up with a Polka in my head before and it frightened me. As I lay in bed humming, I slowly began to put the pieces of last night together. I think I may be missing several key details that would explain this splitting headache and the sudden urge to vomit but I am hoping that my dear friends and partners in crime Mopsa and The Irish Girl (TIG) will help me fill in the blanks. As I recall, it all started out innocent enough...

"So this would be Uptown then"
I've never been to Minneapolis before (other than the MSP airport). To assist us in getting past the awkward stage of not having seen each other in 17 years, Mopsa was kind enough to give me the 5 dollar tour of the Greater Minneapolis Area including The Target Center, The Metrodome, SexWorld (she wouldn't stop for me...bi-ach), House of Balls, her old apartment, several lakes with names I can't remember, and one very big river. It actually is a really pretty city but very leafy. We could have gone to the Mall of America but this was the right choice. It was great to see my old friend again and great to confirm that even though I know we are close on the online - we still have something cool offline too.

After my tour, it was back to the house to meet Mopsas lovely partner. In some bazaar parallel life thing, Mopsa and I are both with very similar looking women - it's a bit eerie - kind of a separated at birth thing. Lovely Partner is indeed lovely and loads of fun. We all had a couple of beers and watched The Twins (that's baseball folks) self-destruct. I really didn't think it was possible for a team to choke like that. It was a fucking train wreck. I was quite content to sit in the basement, drink beer and watch baseball all night with my old buddy but there were other plans afoot. Something about food.

"There's always Montes"
Miss Saucy Pants a.k.a. The Irish Girl joined us for the evening. She's cute as a hell and is my favorite kind of party girl. Immediately I knew that this would be a long fun night. After much circuitous debate as to where the hell to eat, we ended up at a place called Nyes. I am speechless folks. I have no idea how to describe the time warp I walked into, but I'll try. It's 1 part Elks Club, 1 part karaoke bar, 1 part Prime Rib Palace "I'll just have half the cow please", and 3 parts Polish Dance Hall. It was unreal and exactly the right place for us to go. Post-pierogis and three side cars, I wisely switched to beer as we sat and listed to "The Worlds Most Dangerous Polka Band" in the Polonaise Room. I think the side cars were the one thing that kept me from getting up there and joining Mopsa and TIG belting out show tunes at the piano bar.

"All the girls are prettier at closing time"
After a brief stop at Boom, we ended up at a Latin club called Conga. Having had my advances repeatedly turned down by the Future Miss Shamrock (for fear of jeopardizing her chance at the crown, she wouldn't kiss a married woman - at least I think that was the story she was giving me) I took a look around and evaluated my options. This, folks, is where the night took a turn.

I kissed a midget. Not a midget per se, but I'm only 5'3" and I had to bend down to kiss her - so you do the math. She wasn't my type at all and was only cute in that "2a.m., I'm drunk, I'm horny and it's really dark in here" kinda way. Having left any semblance of sanity back at karaoke central, I kissed her not once but three times - once while dancing, again after the lights came up and my friends (and I) could see what (who) I was doing and again outside the bar as we were saying goodnight. I tried to tell her that I was from out of town and had a plane to catch in the morning so no, I would not be going home with her but I think there was a language issue, so I just told her that I would see her at Conga next Sunday. I imagine she'll be looking for me next week.

After that, I don't remember a goddamn thing. But at least I didn't wake up humming the Too Short and Ugly Salsa, gnawing my own arm off trying to escape and catch my flight.

Thankfully, there's no photographic evidence. We all conveniently "forgot" our digital cameras. All in all a great visit and next time I'll plan for at least one recovery day before I have to get on a fucking plane. The girls said their goal was to make me puke on the plane and I have to say - it was touch and go there for a while somewhere over Colorado...

For those of you who don't give a shit about my trip to Minneapolis (and why would you really? you don't even know me!) Click Here

Going Home So I am

Going Home

So I am taking 5 days in the middle of a big job to head back home tomorrow. It's that time of year - time to close the cottage for the winter, time for Uncle Johns Cider and fuzzy sweaters. Color is in full swing from what I hear. And God, I could use some fall air right about now.

I'm also reconnecting real-time for a one night stand stop over in MSP with a very good pal of mine. I haven't seen her in about... uh...shit, 17 years. The time we spent together when we were in college was all to brief. But we clicked. And we never forgot about each other. After I left NMU and got my whacked head together - I moved out west and we were incommunicado for about 10 years. One day I got an email out of the blue. The fucking geek had found me.

Since then, we've rebuilt a great friendship via email, IMs, blog stalking and the occasional phone call. Now it's time to grab a chair and a couple of beers. I'm sure it will be a little awkward at first, these things usually are. But man, I'm psyched to see my bud again. Cool!

As if all that weren't enough, I think I might also get to meet the future Miss Shamrock while I am there!

Here's something to amuse you and spam all your friends with:

Okay - so apparently nobody

Okay - so apparently nobody got the Rainforest joke. I guess it was a bit of a stretch, but it just cracked me the fuck up. Or it might have just been so lame that only I (a charter member of the Easily Amused Club) found it entertaining.

For those of you who might not have gotten it... see, somebody "saved" the rainforest. It's a floppy disk... labeled "rainforest"... get it? uh-huh... okay whatever. It was funny damn it.

It's All the Rage in

It's All the Rage in Shanghai

Season has begun. Season (for those of you not from a town dependent on tourist trade) is when all the pretty people come back to our oasis once the heat has broken. Those of us who choose to live here in the Devils Anteroom year round are always a bit taken aback when we crawl out from under our rocks and are inundated with the snowbirds and weekenders. Suddenly, parking is more difficult. Restaurants are more crowded and god forbid, you have to wait in line to get into a bar. Well, folks, Season has begun and that means the social scene is back too.. Here then, is the first weekend report.

Friday Night Report:
Sunset Mojitas at my cousins and then we were off to Toucans to do some "research" for the upcoming Tiki Weekend presented by the Preservation Foundation (this would be the big project I am in the middle of) and of course we had to have the mixologist try out our Zombie and Mai Tai recipes before I publish them. Toucans is tiki for the new millenium. Half Trader Vics and Half Hawaii Five-O on acid, it's always a fun time. It was packed, but being full-timers we always get good service. I think the drinks were good, which means that they were and I will publish them.

Saturday Night Report:
Double booking social conflict - I hate that. We accepted an invitation to go to the recently re-opened Racquet Club Bamboo Lounge (yes, more tiki research) without thinking that we had already accepted an invitation to R&M's birthday bash. Oops. Fear not, we were able to combine the two (actually it got late at the warm-up cocktail hour so the entire group never made it to the Racquet Club and instead just went straight to the party.

I was instantly greeted at the door by an interesting creature who identified herself as Lila (later to learn that her name is something completely different and she was just trying out this one - whatever). Lila is a Belly Dancer by trade. Even though she was off duty, she choose to wear all black with silver jingle jangle belt with many charms attached. She also had an assortment of other shiny silvery sparkly things attached to various parts of her body.

While I found her attire amusing, she unfortunately had a classic straight girl hot for butch dyke syndrome. How do I explain... you know those dogs who follow you around and like to stick their nose in your crotch? Yeah, kinda like that.

As I was hiding from the crotch sniffer on the patio, I dropped in on a conversation between the missus and my cousin. Something about pajamas...

Me: "It's all the rage in Shanghai you know..."
The Missus: "What?"
Me: "You know, Pajamas... PJs. They're very popular in Shanghai right now. People wear them everywhere..."
The Missus (laughing): "That's the last thing I ever expected to hear you say"
My cousin (also laughing): "Where the hell did that come from?"
Me: "I don't know, read it online somewhere... Anyway, people in China love them."

Enter Lila (damn it - she found me): "MJ, you simply have to come with me to see the lesbian go-go dancers. (intense stare) I promise you a night you'll never forget "

For some reason, I just started humming Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves.

And for those of you who doubt my info about PJs in Shanghai, here's the AP story: New Shanghai fashion: Jammies during the daytime

This reminds me of

This reminds me of the good 'ol days playing Buzzword Bingo during our team meetings: Product Description Generator

CNN is Gettin' Jiggy Wit It

Here's a fun little game that makes my head hurt: Bookworm

Infinite Penguins: Because there's nothing better to do while I am waiting for the sun to explode.

In other news: My sister in-law has once again flown over the cuckoos nest. Accusing the missus of being a "satanic lesbian" who painted pentagrams on the floor of their childhood home (which the sister now refers to as the "House of Hate") and that the missus used to cast spells on her as a teenager using her fingernail clippings. I've now taken to answering the phone "Lucifers Lesbian Lair: We lick like the devil!" - so if you happen to call, don't be alarmed.

This woman is not only a fucking psychotic looney toon nut case, but somewhat dangerous too, so while I jest, I also double check the deadbolts and alarm system.

Whew - thank goodness. Elmo

Whew - thank goodness.

Elmo and Tigger? Whohoohoohoo Knew?!
may not be suitable for some work spaces - if'n you know what I mean

Like sands through the hour glass, so are the Lamps of Our Lives

Is it hot in here?

Is it hot in here? Or is it just me?

How the hell is anyone supposed to get any work done? It's 8:30pm and I've just spent the last 11 hours playing around with the most beautiful thing I have ever had the pleasure of fingering. Well almost.

Anyway - it's here! My new iMac. It's ecstasy. Words can't describe the relief and pleasure I've experienced today.

Yeah - it's that good. A magnificent blend of organic design and pure power.

Now if I could only find a way to concentrate on this looming deadline of mine... nahh...

Tuesday Timewasters Ah Nuts. This

Tuesday Timewasters

Ah Nuts. This is a fun little game. Bonus for hitting the squirels. Peanuts

Little Hercules. This just seems wrong. I wouldn't want to piss this kid off though. Your shins are history.

There are some real "tards out there... The Atlanta Roadways Digest: TARD. Don't miss the 'Tard of the Month gallery.

Last but not least: Viking Kittens ("at work" volume warning: it's kinda loud)