I don’t know if you noticed this, but time changed yesterday.
It’s a little brighter when you wake up, and that’s really nice. But that means it gets dark an hour earlier, too.
So if you live in the northern hemisphere, and you work nine to five, like most of us do, it means when you’re driving home, you need to turn your fucking lights on, dipshit.
As often as I call myself a libertarian, it’s purely small l. I have never been able to push into the “drugs are good” realm. They wreck your life and destroy your brain. And far too many people simply don’t have enough brain to be throwing bits away.
I ask you:
What in the fuck would have to be going on in your head, to make you try to smuggle almost a pound of heroin into Singapore?
Does anyone not know that Singapore executes all drug traffickers? Show of hands? Anyone? I know it, and I’m not even a drug smuggler.
Want to take up a new, exciting, and dangerous career? Do a little research. Or don’t whine when they fit you for a noose.
I have now emailed this to everyone I know. Except my mom.
Because I know you care:
I just ordered these. That’s right. Silk brocade Chuck Taylors.
I have three episodes left, and I’m already crazy-pissed that there are only nine episodes of Firefly. What fucking channel was this on? Oxygen?! How could people not watch this?
[Note: "People" does not include me. I don't watch television.]
I lost my taste for sugar a few years ago, and I’ve never been really into chocolate. I eat ice cream occasionally, but I’m one of those freaks that can take three bites out of a pint of Ben and Jerrys and stick it back in the freezer.
But I have this one weakness. It a candy bar they sell in England called Aero. The plain kind doesn’t do much for me, and the orange kind is just nasty. (Whoever thought of mixing artificial-orange and chocolate should be slapped!)
But the mint ones.
They sell them at World Market, I discovered week before last. They’re like $1.50 each, but I bought one anyway, because I’m a rebel. Also, I had an ob/gyn appointment.
But I forgot to eat it until today. I’ve eaten almost half of it already, and now I remember why I loved them so much.
They taste good, and you know English chocolate is the best. But see, I have this thing about textures. I think I could stand to lose my hearing before I could stand to lose my sense of touch. Well, except that I’d be able to eat fettuccini without gagging, but I don’t think that’s enough payoff.
Anyway, Aero’s have bubbles. And they make me giggle like a fucking moron.
All in Montana.
The term “ubersexual” grosses me out, because it makes me think of the guy with the corvette and the hairy chest with six gold necklaces with big medallions. And I don’t mean Mr T.
But there are some good quotes in here…
Talk show host Rush Limbaugh, who was reportedly disappointed to be left off the list of ubersexuals, told listeners: “An ‘ubersexual’ is simply what men used to be before feminists came along and neutered them. It is hilarious that we now have a book claiming women want, essentially, a new type of man, who is in reality the traditional man.”
“I have some very high-powered, successful women in the entertainment business as clients. They’re strong in their work but — they want their man to come home to. We’re not talking about ‘hey, get me a beer’ — that’s not a man, that’s a boy man. We’re talking about the man who takes responsibility — who makes them feel safe: he ‘chops wood and carries water’ and he’s not pissed off at the woman for having to do that.
I pick up random new profanity all the time, as a rule. It’s not so much that I purposely incorporate it into my vocabulary, as it spontaneously appears in times of stress.
Thursday was very hectic. I spent half of the day doing nothing, waiting for testing results and answers to business logic questions, and twiddling my thumbs. Then about six things fell apart between 1:30 and 4pm.
I used the phrase “double-you tee eff?” twice in that period. Those exact sounds, not the phrase to which it translates.
I have no idea where that came from. I’ve never heard anyone say it aloud before. But I like it.
The Good: I’ve been using Crest Whitestrips, which have the phrase “In just seven days” on the lid. So I spend every morning singing “In just seven days (And seven nights!!) I can make you a fa-a-a-a-a-ag. Just! Like! Your! Dad!” until iTrip saves me.
The Weird: That little tune they play on the Six Flags commercials? With the dancing old guy in front of the bus? That’s a real song. (I heard it this morning)
The Ugly: You know the last song you hear will get stuck in your head all day. Sadly, today I misjudged how much time I had before the parking lot and didn’t skip past “I Am I Said.” The fatal flaw of the iPod is that you keep kitschy songs on there, because you can, which causes just this problem. (”LA’s fine, but it ain’t home. New York’s home but it ain’t mine, no more.” Share my pain.)