September 2014

My favorite day of the week, here again! Sons of Anarchy! Soap Opera with Motorcycles! Whee!

“Bad shit happens to greedy whores!” is my favorite ever Gemma Teller quote!

I am about to go Gemma Teller on this A & P exam! I don’t even know what that means! I am gonna study, make some snacks and stab someone with a fork! YES!

Also, I have my gold socks on today! Because they are gold!


This day didn’t start out wonderful. I could not get the calculations to go right in my lab. And the vacuums weren’t working, so my crazy filter was not working. But I just laid my head down on the lab table thing, and said, “Save me Willie Nelson” and promised myself chocolate donuts and fried foods if I made it out alive! And I did! SO suck on THAT chemistry! You are not the boss of ME! Except, never mind! We are gonna Gemma Teller this bitch named Chemistry and the rest of the week, for that matter!

I love this animal bird thing. I do not know what it is. I love it, and I am pretty sure it smokes weed when I am not around.


Enough of that, I am gonna Roger Miller my way outta here, and get back to the studying of the Calcium and the Blood and the HOMEOSTASIS…

I had a dream last night that Robert Smith died. I hate Robert Smith, and I hate the Cure. The Cure never cured anything. Ennui. Cigarettes. Blaaaaaaah! Not my thing. But I have many dear friends that LOVE the Cure. Maybe as much as I love Manowar. There are no Brothers in Cure, and no one ever, ever says “other bands play..the Cure kills.” Maybe the Cure makes you have less friends and wear pointy toed shoes. I don’t know. The dream bothered me, because when I woke up, I truly believed that Robert Smith had died…and the first thing that popped into my head was, “choose your words carefully.” I guess that meant I shouldn’t write offensive things about Robert Smith or his craptacular band. GOOD NEWS, I checked with the internet, and Fat Bob is still alive and kicking! Well, he is alive. Maybe he’s kicking. I wanna kick him. So I can continue on with the making fun of Robert Smith as long as he lives another day. Which he will. Just to spite me.






Do you ever think that your life is just a version of your five year old self? Sometimes I do. Well, a five year old with a taste for Miller Lite. Incidentally, Miller Lite was introduced nationally in 1975. The same year I WAS BORN. Wow. What a great time to be born. I have decided to devote some time on this blog to self-examination through my diet and house decor.

Remember when the Brady’s built those clubhouses and the whole episode exploded into a women’s rights parade and I think Jan burned her bra and threw it at that creepy Christopher Knight? I don’t know. I don’t remember anything past the idea of clubhouse. I always wanted one. I have had several. Right now, I consider my home to be one great big giant clubhouse. The wallpaper in the Brady girl’s bedroom would be in every room of my house. If I believed in wallpaper. Or math. Or had any kind of patience to hang wallpaper. These are some kitchen curtains I made, inspired by that wallpaper.

My palate never expanded beyond 1982. I made friends with girls in college by throwing cheeseballs outside of my dorm room door while chainsmoking GPC’s and playing the Grease soundtrack over and over. It was like 2 decades too late for such behavior, but I was free and I had an industrial size plastic barrel of cheeseballs. My life was finally taking off! I still believe that the dearest friends of life can be found by throwing food. Throwing food is funny. Also: Grape Kool Aid? Yes. Chow Mein Noodle cookies with the chocolate chips and butterscotch chiops? Fucking exotic and also YES. We cannot even talk about my problem with Chickn in a Biskit crackers. I will totally put cream cheese on a piece of chipped beef, wrap that around a pickle, put a fancy toothpick in it and call it an appetizer…or a regular toothpick.

Can we just agree that life was better when it was acceptable to buy a ham in a metal container. A fucking ham in a metal container! Look at those graphics?!?!?! Do you know what else? Rice Krispie Treats. I say, hell yes. I can make rice krispie treats while polishing down a bottle of Jack Daniels, on roller skates, herding an entire room full of cats. Rice Krispie treats stand for everything I believe in. Rice Krispie Treats are the answer to any potluck situation, in which you may or may not be hungover. And so are these deer that are chained together. Why was this ever okay? I do not understand.


There is a bit of mushroom decor in almost every room of my house. My dream is to find a deviled egg plate with mushrooms painted on it. MY MOTHER FUCKING DREAM. They may or may not exist. Deviled eggs are also a great potluck choice, because they have the name DEVIL in them. Somebody, Strawberry Boonesfarm Me, ASAP… Ziggy is crazy. That guy didn’t even wear pants. I don’t even know what Happy Everything means. But I am TOTALLY on board with this lifestyle!



Roger Alan Wade writes some of the funniest songs I have ever heard in my life. His not-so-funny songs,make him an amazing songwriter. I just want to drink coffee with this man and listen to him talk. That voice.

Its almost Fall. 30 Days until KING DIAMOND! I am so excited for that show!


Best Socks, Ever! Ever!

I have Fridays off of school and I am not getting dressed until noon and going to lay in bed and watch it bad that I already have that planned?


This guy actually made a youtube video to show how to make cut off sweat pants.

I started thinking about cut off sweatpants, when I was driving today. I saw a homeless man wearing them. I forgot about them. Back in the day, I had a whole row of cut off sweat pants in my drawer. I never had to watch a video to cut them off, though. I am gonna need some cut off sweat pants, ASAP…

One time I had a temp job working in the State Courthouse at a newspaper stand. The guy training me was showing me everything, and he kept saying, “various sundries” over and over. I kind of love that phrase. People in the courthouse only wanted to buy cigarettes, anyway. That stand smelled so good, like tobacco and newspapers.

Today, I have tested my pond water, in the lab to compare it with treated water. I have taken an essay test to prove God’s existence, and I am about to make some Rice Crispy treats. Then I am going to finish my paper on kidney calculi in post menopausal women. You can’t stop me, don’t even try! I see a Miller Lite and some Sons of Anarchy in my near future…

I woke up this morning and I somehow deleted my voice mail messages, from my best friend. It’s been 2 years, and 2 phones since, but it hurt. I am more relieved to not have to worry about them anymore, than anything. I do feel like a weight was lifted off my shoulders, after I rationalized the situation.

It’s just a special thing to have voice mail messages that start out with, “hey bitch…” Those kind of relationships have to start from childhood…and when they end traumatically, it is a slow grieving process.

Somebody gave this picture to me at the funeral. The thing that is funny is I have NO IDEA where it was taken! I know we were in 8th grade, and no one at the funeral knew where it was taken, either. She would have known. She remembered things like that. Life goes on, you deal with the stages, creep through them, try to not annoy everyone around you…

Last night was all about finding new friends. Like Toad-aly. He lives in our garden pond now.


And burning things.


And more rain. Rain Rain Rain.


And today was all about Anatomy and Physiology. And Coffee.


Happy Week Everybody!

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