ye olde crapfest

i ordered this cd on the 18th of january, and it's telling me it'll ship sometime between february 19th and march 7th. so, i'm telling it to FUCK THE FUCK OFF and cancelling the order and RE-ordering from a different seller, who WILL charge me more for shipping, but they'll also ship it TOMORROW, so i'll have it in my wee little hands any day now. this cd was out of print for a while, and i tried downloading all 26 songs (each begins with a different letter of the alphabet), but soulseek just isn't that cooperative.

sooooooo, add frankie welfare boy age five to the list of things i'm looking forward to in the very near future! this list already includes:

• the dragons 1976 show next week, featuring all-time supafresh drum god tim daisy
• the MUTHAFUCKIN SLINT SHOW in loserville feb. 22nd (i couldn't see the pixies, but by god i will see slint)
• (in my best deep announcer voice) "The Oh-Cee," new episodes every thursday from here to hopefully eternity, and if not eternity then thank jeebus for the magic of tv on dvd!
• next week, aka "the week both bosses are out of town at the same time"
and last but not least,
• finally getting my braces off! woot, giggle giggle!

i'm kidding i never had braces. that's why i have horse teeth.

anyway, things are nimbly pimbly as always (that was my word of the day today, and i used it totally incorrectly just now, but SHIT!, i USED IT!), nothing crazy good, but nothing crazy bad, and i'll take that action any day.

and in closing, i just googled "the meaning of life" and look what i found! awesome sauce!

last friday, i did a favor for my cool boss, aka "big daddy," and chauffered his 10-year-old daughter from her school dance to her dance lessons. my instructions were to show up at the school at 6pm, wander in, find hayley, and shuttle her to the traci lords jazz explosion (not the dance school's real name, but it's shockingly similar) over by the mall. no problem--a twenty minute ordeal, at most. but little did i know, it would be one of the strangest and most surreal experiences in my recent memory.

first, the school. it's been a hella long time since i was in a high school, which is built for normal-sized people, but this...this was an elementary school with its eight foot ceilings and water fountains at my knee level and lockers designed for leprechauns. oh, and the entire place reeked of piss. i think i smelled poo and sweat and vomit as well, but the overwhelming aroma of ammonia-laden urine took control of my senses and made it hard for me to discern one nasty from the other.

so i made my way through the maze of hallways and ramps (i'm assuming the ramps are for the wheelchair kids, and the little plastic strips that cut across the floor are speedbumps for said wheelchair kids, to make sure they don't get to wheeling too fast), guided by the sweet and surprising sounds of 1980s-era michael jackson (rock with you, if you must know) and eventually found my way to the gym. i was a little early, so i just ducked in and hung back in a corner with the rest of the "parents."

i watched as a hundred or more fourth through eigth graders cut the proverbial rug to not one, but TWO michael jackson songs (rock with you was followed by the indomitable thriller). some of them tried to do the thriller dance--it was all loosey-goosey to say the least, but it was admirable of them to attempt it. so then, the dj, a guy about my age who looks like this kid ernie that my eighth-grade boyfriend used to harrass on the bus, he says "alright kids, it's about time to wrap things up...i know there's a lot of you hip-hop fans who want me to play somethin' bumpin', and i gotta close it up with a slow song, so we'll do all that. but first, here's one for all you rockers!" and he cues up track one of nirvana's nevermind and all of a sudden, these hundred or more fourth through eighth graders are pogoing to the sounds of smells like teen spirit. and i'm standing there in the corner, smelling the pee and laughing my ass off at the irony i've attributed to the situation.

so, the kids smelled their teen spirit, and then john q. dj said "alright everybody, shake your tailfeather!" and the pogoing, chorus chanting grunge-heads did a complete 180 and began to gyrate to the sounds of mssrs. diddy, lee, and nelly. there was bumping, there was grinding, there was shaking of the tailfeather. and many "woots" and "yeahs" could be heard above the sounds of the thumptastic bass. lines were formed, which i thought they only did in country and western bars, but NO NO this is the new millenium, and urban line dancing and hick hop are The New Hotness.

there were circles, like in all the prom scenes from every movie you've ever seen, and people putting themselves into the middles of the circles to show off their super-sweet moves. there was what hayley later told me is called "lap dancing," which is when a girl, "like, dances with her lap and butt and grinds around and then a boy, he like, comes up behind her and grinds his lap on her butt." and all this time i thought lap dancing was something that involved a chair or something, money changing hands and pitiable levels of blatant insecurity--silly me, it's just a game the kids are playing with their laps and butts!

well, pop songs are only three minutes long, so the tailfeather-shaking couldn't last forever. and when that was over, it was time for The Last Song. The Slow One. and i watched a hundred or more fourth through eighth graders clear the dance floor in what seemed like nanoseconds. when the dust cleared, there were three--yes, THREE-- couples left standing on the floor. the boys were all horrifically tall, the girls all had braces and way too much makeup on. they had their hands dangled around each others' necks and waists, and they shuffled in nearly-circular patterns in just about the same place, no doubt "feeling the love" that one feels when listening to the romantic words of kenny chesney and also doing everything within their power to avoid looking at each other. they looked up, they looked down, they looked all around, but not once did i see one of these three couples look at their partner. later, i asked hayley if there were only three couples in the school, as i seemed to remember the 6th through 8th grade years as being a period of rampant "going steady."

she replied "oh, yeah, there's more girls with boyfriends, but they're all the hoochies and they're at competition today."

"hootchie competition?" says me.

"no no! dance competition! all the hootchies are dancers!" she exclaimed.

"or is it that all the dancers are hootchies?" i wondered, as i gave her the most knowing look i could muster.

ah, the joys of youth. i felt sentimental, i felt old, i felt way cooler than ALL those kids, so HA! it was actually a very cool experience. i had gotten a little worried that the post-columbine, post 9-11 thing had turned the schools of america into whiny little pussy factories. not true! these kids looked just like the rapscallions and numbnutzes i grew up with, right down to the dude running around the gym making fart noises with his hands. and they have been raised to recognize the glory of 80s michael jackson and teen spirit! so i guess there's hope after all.

just as long as they start wiping their asses and aiming for the bowl, that is. that whole "smelling of pee" thing doesn't go over well with the ladies when you get older, gents. trust me.

i also used to laugh at the brand name "molnlycke" on the toilet paper dispensers in public bathrooms, mainly because i never had a clue how to pronounce it.

i don't have much of anything to report right now, especially not anything cohesive or thematically sound. work's boring, but i'm trying not to let the boss in on that little secret, or else i'm sure he'll find things for me to do. so, i play "busy." type type type, walk around, make a copy of something, etc. i'm interested if anyone's got any suggestions for other ways to look occupied, especially if they involve costumes.

there's an influx of "new" readers to the crapfest. i don't think any of them came here for h0rs3p3n1s, thank the lord. so, i welcome ye, new readers. also, i have the following words of warning to share with you: i have a wicked bad potty mouth. it's borderline socially unattractive. i'm working on that. so keep the kiddies away when you read my site, as my favorite picture of the "anal cunt" grafitti shows up at least once a year in some form or another.

and apparently, there are unicorns in the bible. i'm not bibly, i wasn't aware of that. thanks, isaac asimov(?).

for you non-spanish-speaking geniuses, that means "but there are no cats in america, and the streets are made of cheese." so now you know.

for the record, the tacos were muy excellente. however, my last-minute saturday decision to concoct a big fat lasagna turned out to cheesarific, effectively eclipsing the tacos. i'm still eating the leftovers and they're tasty, too.

work is really boring today. most folks are being good americans and celebrating the birth of dr. marvin julius king junior, who invented lightning. the banks are closed, and the post office won't be delivering today in memory of science.

well, i had more to say, but i just spilled some mountain dew on my keyboard. i must go, i'll have to take each key off for deep-soaking purposes. SO LAME.

i do love tacos.
especially the homemade variety.
i can almost taste the cilantro now.

there's nothing like some orange grease dripping from your elbow and some mango salsa action to spice up a "night after the oc" night. and after the tacos, i guess i'll just sit around and wait for 8pm next thursday to roll around. o' sweet witty teen indie dramedy, how did i live without thee?

and now, i present a picture which embodies the spirit of both beloved subjects addressed above, and also contains the word "bone." i found it totally randomly and by accident. is that the titsiest or what?

i got my semi-unregularly distributed social security newsletter thingy that tells you how much you'd get in social security if, at this particular moment, you were befallen with a tragedy that left you disabled or, cod forbid, corpsified. let's just say, i or my nonexistent husband and children would receive enough money to eat rice and beans and get a subscription to netflix, nothing more. but i guess that's the thing, you have to WORK and EARN that social security, so one day, provided that i continue to WORK and EARN it, i should have a little more than a measly pittance to help me through my twilight years. yeah, i call shenanigans.

but it was kinda cool to see how much money i've made every year since i started working... i've quintupled my average income since my freshman year of college. and i still don't make shit. imagine that.

i really wish i could tell the difference between "choosing your path and finding a career that you love and doing it like crazy til you're in diapers" and "getting whatever job it is you happen to be able to get and slaving there, day in and day out with the promise of some happytime goldenland payoff in the end." i guess i just haven't really found the thing i want to do that much yet. i get pretty disillusioned with things pretty easily. it's an eventuality. is that fatalistic? do you like all of my multisyllabic word choices?

bah, anyway, i'm just bored. there's nothing on the telly and i'm kinda sick of the superweb again and zack's soccer game won't be over for another hour. i elected not to go, on account of my lingering disdain and outrage over the outcome of the war of 1812. i could be enjoying a delicious croissant right this very second.

and destructo fucks his pillow.
so that's cool.

nothing's going on in the good ol' office today, so, rather than spend another eight hours looking at the computer, i decided to do a little cleaning and rearranging. as usual, i got myself in a little deeper than expected and ended up with five bags of trash (mostly old phone books and papers, papers, papers) and a halfway-new setup. my tape deck (yes, my job involves a tape deck, aren't you jealous?) and shipping supplies have been relocated, and i got rid of a telephone and a small buttload of file folders. my hands got really dirty, i smashed the shit out of my thumb, and i fell off of a chair and busted my ass while attempting a rather delicate climbing maneuver.

and now i'm at home enjoying a long lunch. working for an uber-small business has its perks, including the fuzzy lunch hours. usually, i let the bosses go do their thing, and they take care of that from noon til 1:30ish, then i go home and head back about 2:30. however, there are some days, like today, that they both take off at 12:30ish, and i take off shortly thereafter. they get back at 1:30 and call me, i say "yeah, i just got home, left the office around ten after one" and voila, i don't have to go back til after 2. that's what i call magic.

they will read this one day and fire me, i'm sure of it. but then again, i DO rearrange things and dust every now and then, that's gotta be worth something.

haha, "delicate climbing maneuver." it was awesome, you should've been there.

the world may or may not be coming to an end...

for those of you who know k@rl@ (aka lulu, aka big stupid), she made it a FULL ENTIRE DAY, from 9:15am until now (4:20, at this point). i'm pretty sure this is either the end, or the beginning of the end. hide your belongings.

i was just out back enjoying a covert smoky treat, when my eyes came to rest on the carcass of a freshly-deadened pigeon. it looks to me as though he hit a window or the side of the building at full force and broke his little pigeon neck, and then fell, wings outstretched and head thrown back, onto the grass below. he's laying there now, fully feathered, having had no chance as of yet to decompose or be eaten by bugs and other various creatures, splayed out in jesus-esque fashion.

i am such a weiner that i cried. i cried for the dead pigeon, and then i realized that i was also crying for my dead steve cat, and for the dead cats and dogs of the world. and then for some reason, my thoughts drifted to all of those poor cows and pigs that live miserable stinky lives only to one day be chopped up and stored in my freezer. and then i started craving steak, drizzled with a creamy bernaise sauce and accompanied by some steamed asparagus.

poor bird. i hope he/she managed to do some fun bird stuff before today's little accident.

in other news, does anyone know where i can get some delicious jello pudding pops?

i've been truly loving my new keychain swiss army knife. i never realized how handy it could be to have neverending access to scissors, a toothpick, and most importantly, tweezers. i can pluck anything, anytime i want! i haven't really even checked out the knives yet. i can't think of much else to do with them except for, well... knifing folks.

anything going on in lex this weekend? i need some stimulation of the non-sexy variety.

blogger won't publish changes to my sidebar, but it will publish new posts and let me edit old ones just fine.

so, it works now. i <3 technology (...but not as much as you, you see...).

all you ladies be careful... i do believe there is a silent menace out there as we speak, spreading its fertile joy and love all over lex vegas and injecting any and all living, breathing female things with its magic beans! i'm calling it "the sperm tsunami," and i'm not trying to make any fun of any tragedy, so just hold your comments right there, buddy bear. (people are so sensitive sometimes, you know?) anyway, yeah, the sperm tsunami has taken its toll on the local population here in the last year or so, really. it's like a virus, and it's spreading! before i know it, all of my ladyfriends will be either a) knocked the fuck up, or b) married and trying to figure out whether or not to get knocked the fuck up. but, i guess, what can we do? we're fertile little creatures in our prime, we are...

i'm in no hurry, just in case you wanted to know my stance on that whole thang. happily fakely married, yes, and perfectly comfortable with our current "limited liability" status. but to those of you who are embarking on this new and poop-filled journey, i give you my congratulations and offer my baby-sitting services.

once.

use it wisely.

for those of you who are confused by my horrifically vague verbage up there, i'm talking about babies. babies, people. they're gonna be everywhere. you just watch.

oh, and, in the interest of continuity, i DID get some goat cheese today. it's gonna be awesome, when i finally eat it. awesome i tell you.

i guess miss r. is leaving town today. what with denial not just being a river in egypt and all, i haven't quite swallowed the whole idea yet. she'll be eight hours away, and obviously, that's pretty far. however, plane tix from la'ville to raleigh are fairly inexpensive if you purchase them far enough in advance. either way, it looks like i'm going to have to get used to paying regular visits to north carolina. i remember it being nice there, so that's a plus!

so, dear buddy, this is it. all of your planning and hard work and preparation have led you to this point. your place is with the bugs now. they are your new people. all of your "old" people will be here, most likely sitting on the same couches and playing the same board games as always, so don't you pine for us--we are lame, and you have things to do and places to go and people to judge. just remember... if you need anything, use that free long distance and call up this biatch. i made you a card with all of the REAL funny stuff, and, of course, the sentimental stuff. i think you'll like it.

who will i go shoe shopping with now? who will delight in the joys of charmed and 92-21-10 with me? who will convince me to do all of those things that take lots of convincing? who, i ask ye, who?!?! man, i'm sighing.

on the upside, i know a certain future north carolina resident who can look forward to copious amounts of ridiculously funny mail. i FINALLY have something to focus on at work again. thanks, i suppose.

i'll miss you, megan p. stay up, nigga, stay up.