Thursday, May 29, 2003

Also: Does anyone have a verdict on split pea soup? I seem to remember liking the stuff an awful lot as a small child, prior to my 15-year pea aversion. Is it any good? Anyone?

I prettied up the comments! If you dig 'em, show me some love, fool.

Wednesday, May 28, 2003

In completely non-related news: Here is a picture of Clay Aiken with red hair and glasses.



The fact that this picture gets me hott only confirms what I've suspected for years: I'm a gay man trapped in a woman's body.

I <3 Money


I have to admit that in these times of buy-now-pay-later instant gratification, George Bush the Younger definitely has the right idea. I mean, who doesn't love the idea of a blithering idiot who's putting money in your pocket right away? So what if Grandma has to take on a night shift at the Piggly Wiggly 'cause she can't afford her Celebrex. I'm getting $400 in the mail this August!! And did you check out the new tax withholding tables? Man, the upper-middle class gets fucking SLAMMED compared to the middle-middles, don't they? I never really realized how much income tax we (they) pay. It looks like John's 60-hour work weeks this summer aren't going to be so beneficial after all. Fukkers.

Tuesday, May 27, 2003

Friday, May 23, 2003

Ha ha, Steve-O. You dumbass.

In related news: SARS came from a Chinese weasel-cat. Or possibly from space. You decide.

Wednesday, May 21, 2003

I will now purge my soul of the embarassment I should feel after watching the *two-hour* finale of American Idol, but do not.

Ruben (the fat black guy) so deserved to win. He really is an amazing singer, like, Aaron Neville style or something. Barry White. Marvin Gaye! That doesn't mean, though, that I don't want to see Clay Aiken yanking it on a gay porn website - which, thankfully, is far more likely to happen now that he's lost the competition. Man, is that boy ever cute, in an injured-baby-bird sort of way. You know what a sucker I am for closeted homosexuals, and Clay has it all - tall, skinny, pointy hair, and - MOTHER OF GOD - freckles. If it wasn't for that wonky eye, he'd be the new Jesus. Oh, who am I kidding... even WITH the skanky eye, as long as he washes all the fecal matter off the peen first, I'll fellate him until the world explodes. Oh, right, we're NOT talking about my sexual fantasies here. Riiiiight.

Now. I did not follow this season of American Idol by any means. I am morally opposed to anything that everyone else in Rural Ohio loves so much. I happily ignored the whole thing last year. But three weeks ago, I was laid up in bed with the morning sickness when the only channels that would come in on my non-cable-equipped bedroom television ($9.95 a month for an extra receiver? So I can watch South Park on a 13 inch TV? BLOW me, Adelphia) were FOX and that religious show with the pink haired lady. I was completely mesmerized by the fact that a pasty, lazy-eyed closet case had made it into the "final four" (okay, so the only part that shocked me was the lazy eye - we all remember 'Nsync). Of course, I was twice as shocked to see that one of the other finalists was the hulking heart attack of a homie that I'd laughed at months before as I channel-surfed past a preliminary round of American Idol. "HAHAHA," I said, "LOOK AT THE POOR FAT GUY. HE'S GOING TO GET VOTED OFF BECAUSE AMERICA HATES FAT PEOPLE!" (Or at least, Gwen does. No, really.) So anyway. I realized at that point that I SHOULD have been watching American Idol all this time, as it contains elements of all there is to love, including:
* making fun of everyone!
* high-school show-choir style singing!
* homosexuals!
* commercials for Taco Bell!
And now, to continue in the bulleted-list vein, here are some things that bothered me about American Idol:
* his name sounds like Ruben STUTTERED! HAHAHAHAHA
* Ruben (Stuttered) reminds me of this oil lamp my gramma used to have hanging in the living room. It had a statue of a Grecian Goddess in the middle, and when you filled the lamp with oil, it poured in beady droplets down these plastic wires all around the lamp. This guy is sweating GALLONS just fucking standing there, and it's ten times worse when they make him wear long sleeves. Anyone wanna wager on how long till his heart gives out? I give it a week tops.
* I don't care what anyone says, that fucking black chick couldn't sing.
* However, that other black chick who was on tonight, but apparently got voted off at some point before I started watching, COULD sing.
* Why did Ruben have to sing "Flying Without Wings" THREE times tonight?! For the love of mother mercy.
* And who the hell is doing these arrangements? Since when is "Bridge Over Troubled Water" performed by the Church of Merry Twinkling Elves?
* Gay Gayken sang "Hello" by Lionel Richie!! I have loved that song ever since I saw the video where he gets the blind chick to touch his Johnson by telling her it's a Ball Park Frank. Then they both dance on the ceiling.

I can assure you that I will NOT be making the same mistake with the upcoming "American Juniors" (which seems to me like it would have been more properly entitled "Junior Idol", but I suspect that's neither here nor there.) I want to see that haggard little wench singing "CAUSE I'M YOUUURRRR LAYYYYYYDAYYYYYYYYY" get a record contract. She'll be the next Raven-Symone.

P.S. I feel I was very fortunate to start watching when I did, as it made the Saturday Night Live parody seem fucking hilarious.


Monday, May 19, 2003

So I skipped 7th Heaven to blog, and here is it 8:58 and I haven't written a thing. Well, except for the thing about Braid sucking. I got distracted because my Yahoo search for Braid led me to this awesome site that sells wigs, extensions and hairpieces. *purrrr* For those not in the know, I am a SUCKER for fake hair. Not that shit they sell at Claire's that is like, purple and floursecent yellow, but fake hair that looks like real hair. I own a lot of it. 'S purdy. So anyways.

My best girlfriend Jen is moving back from England!! She's the very, very bestest, and she's going to be here in THREE WEEKS!! We talked on the phone for two hours this afternoon, and it was awesome like a hot dog. ;) She's going to be here alone for a bit while her hubby finishes up with the selling of their house in Great Britain, so hopefully she'll be so bored that all she'll wanna do is hang out with my pregnant ass. Here's a picture of me and Jen and a dolly I gave her - I'm the pasty one with the caterpillar brows, she's the one who looks fabulous even in her bathrobe:


I'm a good mom! I fed Tristan dinner today, and it contained a course from every food group. Then I had to go to the bathroom, so I gave him a Ho-Ho for dessert. Hey, I didn't want him to fuss, ok? I took a picture of the results, too - keep in mind that this is *after* I pulled the bread out from behind his shoulder:


John went to a different grocery store than usual today, and the milk he got is SO CUTE!! It's called Country Fresh, and it has like swirlies and little flowers on the label. No word on the taste yet, though; I'm still finishing up the Toft's skim with this Nestle Crunch with Caramel. Which is so. Fucking. Good. YUM. It smells like coffee and it's thick like a fun size Crunch bar. And caramelly.

I also took these cute pictures of Tristan. The top one proves that he is without a doubt the cutest child ever to exist. The bottom one isn't a smile, but a sweet look that I adore.



And finally, there are these pictures I snapped the other day in an attempt to show Gwen how cute Tristan looks in the monkey shirt she bought him, which unfortunately barely fits already. Why? Because, as evidenced in these pictures, TRISTAN IS FREAKISHLY TALL. See?



Oh just one more thing. I had a very Zen moment a bit ago. I looked out the door, and there was a bunny standing there! This isn't an unusual occurrence at all, as our yard is like freaking Teletubbyland, but I was still excited to get a picture. As I was snapping thru the window so as not to disturb little Bunnons Lembeck, *another* little rabbit hopped onto the scene!! I was already breathless, and just then a cardinal flew over and landed in the tree. Unfortunately, the picture I got while he was there didn't turn out so well, but I did get this one before the bunnies hopped away.


Oh, and I've been being all creative-like and painting these cute name plaques for new babies I know. The Jayden one got SUCH a big "AWWWWWW" at the shower I attended on Sunday - well worth tolerating the bad food. ;)



the end. for real.
Based on the song I just had to listen to half of, I can safely declare that Braid are a piece of shit. Who? I don't know, some shitty band that's on this Nowcore compilation CD. I'd link you but I'm too damn lazy.

Wednesday, May 14, 2003

We hung out with John's new best friend Kevin and his girlfriend tonight. We went to the Feve for the first time since it re-opened, and WOW. SUCK. They shrunk the menu by about 90%, so basically your choices are burger, boca burger, shistawouk, buffalo shistawouk. And would you like that with fries, spicy fries, tater tots, hummus or tahini?

Tristan got Teletubbies shoes at Dave's Army Navy, which apparently no longer sells baby Converse. >: ( Fascists. Anyway, I am completely opposed to cheap ass character shoes in 99% of all situtations (look at me busting out the % sign tonight), but hello. TELETUBBIES. Tristan about shit. (Literally, probably. LOL.) They've got a big ass fucking yellow flower on the backs of them, so that should give us a good laugh when we take him over to the in-laws'. "WHY IS THAT BABY WEARING GIRL SHOES?!?" mwahahahahahhahaha.

So yeah, Kevin and Andrea. They're the kind of people that like, if I saw them out somewhere, I'd be like,"Wow. They're way cooler than us." Andrea wears makeup, something I considered doing but decided against seeing as how I had a very limited amount of time in which to get ready. Not to mention, I think you can always tell when someone's wearing makeup to hide their terrible acne. I don't have any nice clothes that fit anyway, so what the hell, why fight the scummies, right? Might as well be me. But there I go changing the subject back to myself again. Who am I, Tara Lipinski?

I just took a hot bath, and it felt scandalously good. Scandalously.

Then I was thinking, Damn! It sure is hot in here, but there's nothing on this effing desk to put my hair up with. Then, lo and behold, I noticed an unopened package of 52 Ouchless Goody Elastics. Sometimes, everything just falls into place.

Monday, May 12, 2003

And while we're on the subject of boys: Is it just me, or do you have to have testicles in order to enjoy the music of Foo Fighters? And don't you totally think that "I love it but I hate the taste" refers to the oral pleasures engaged in by Dave Grohl and Taylor Hawkins? Because really, do you ever see them not together? And when they ARE apart, aren't they always up on each other's jock?



I've been meaning to get a link up to Anna's blog. I finally did. Check it out. If you like the graphics, I did them. If you hate them, it's all Anna, baby. ;P

Sunday, May 11, 2003

Stupid crappy day.

Saturday, May 10, 2003

"I Need Love" by Sam Phillips may or may not be the best song of all time. It's no wonder they made her the official Vonda Shepard of Gilmore Girls.

i left my conscience like a crying child
locked the door behind me put the pain on file
broken like a window i see my blindness now

i need love
not some sentimental prison
i need god
not the political church
i need fire
to melt the frozen sea inside me
i need love

driving into town tired and depressed
like a flare the streetlight bursts into an s.o.s.
peace comes to my rescue i don't know what it means

Friday, May 09, 2003

Just for my sweet Delicious Young Prince, I give you three Alanis songs about Dave Coulier. Please throw your money into the guitar case over there. --->

"Will to Live"

I feel miserable
Hockey players make me ill
I feel miserable
Washed up comedians tear at my foundations
I feel miserable
Stupid jokes are dragging me down to the depths of misery
I want to die

Is it because of Dave Coulier that I feel this way?
With the pink rays of misery pounding on my brain?
Or am I lost in tale of Janis Joplin, adrift far from home
I don't think so, I don't think so.

Dave Coulier Broke My Will to Live
Dave Coulier Broke My Will to Live
Dave Coulier Broke My Will to Live
I was getting better but then
Dave Coulier Broke My Will to Live

I feel miserable
Full House episodes rot the flesh from my bones
I feel miserable
Chipmunk puppets defeat my purpose
I feel miserable
Those goddamn Olsen Twins are doing their best to impale my soul
I want to die

Is it because of Dave Coulier that I feel this way?
With the pink rays of misery pounding on my brain?
Am I lost in tale of Janis Joplin, adrift far from home
I don't think so, I don't think so.

Dave Coulier Broke My Will to Live
Dave Coulier Broke My Will to Live
Oh God, Dave Coulier Broke My Will to Live
I was getting better but then
Dave Coulier Broke My Will to Live


"I Think"

I Think hockey players are really a huge problem
I Think washed up comedians are too much on my mind
I Think stupid jokes have got a lot to do with why the world sucks
But what can you do?

Like a pink rain, beating down on me
Like a Janis Joplin line, which won't let go of my brain
Like Dave Coulier's ass, it is in my head
Blame it on Dave Coulier
Blame it on Dave Coulier
Blame it on Dave Coulier

I Think Full House episodes are gonna drive us all crazy
And chipmunk puppets make me feel like a child
I Think those goddamned Olsen Twins will eventually be the downfall of civilization
But what can you do? I said what can you do?

Like a pink rain, beating down on me
Like a Janis Joplin line, which won't let go of my brain
Like Dave Coulier's ass, it is in my head
Blame it on Dave Coulier
Blame it on Dave Coulier
Blame it on Dave Coulier

Like a pink rain, beating down on me
Like Dave Coulier's smile, cruel and cold
Like Janis Joplin's ass, it is in my head
Blame it on Dave Coulier
Blame it on Dave Coulier
Blame it on Dave Coulier


"Why"

Hockey players, washed up comedians, stupid jokes
Why God, Why?
Washed up comedians, Full House episodes, Dave Coulier
Why God, Why?

What have I done to deserve this pink horror?
Surrounded on all sides with the Hell of Dave Coulier
Like a Janis Joplin character, I'm wordy and alone
Why God, Why?

Chipmunk puppets, hockey players, those goddamned Olsen Twins
Why God, Why?
Dave Coulier, those goddamned Olsen Twins, stupid jokes
Why God, Why?

What have I done to deserve this pink disaster that is my life?
Surrounded on all sides with the Hell of Dave Coulier
Like a Janis Joplin character, I'm wordy and alone
Why God, Why?

What have I done to deserve this pink misery?
Surrounded on all sides with the Hell of Dave Coulier
Like a Janis Joplin character, I'm wordy and alone
Why God, Why?

Why God, Why?
Why God, Why?
Why God, Why?
Why God, Why?
I have now officially declared that my cold has progressed and mutated into a new disease called the Mexican Barking SARS. I can barely cough at all anymore, and when I do, it sounds like the pathetic cry of an angry chihuahua. Yife! Yife!

I should also mention that I have no voice left, and when I try to speak it comes out sounding like the dying plea of an 86-year-old emphysema patient. And no, I don't think that's funny. My gramma died of emphysema. So quit smoking, you stupid fuck.


Thursday, May 08, 2003

Wednesday, May 07, 2003

Monday, May 05, 2003

When I was 15, I met a guy who owned a copy of every Rush album, with the exception of their seminal epic Moving Pictures.

I owned no Rush albums, save my two copies of Moving Pictures.

The gods of geekdom smiled down upon us, and we rode off into the sunset.
So as I was saying. There's a link to my pregnancy blog over there on the right, so you don't have to read about leaky boobs and look at pictures of cribs if you don't want to. But if you do want to... please! Visit!!
Ignore that, please. It's all fucked up and there's no way to fix it.
Sorry I haven't been around much lately. Now that I've told everyone in person who needed to be told, I can make an official announcement: I'm pregnant! WOO!

In addition, my posted by Tina Bean at