***sigh*** 

Gilbert O'Sulllivan's tribute to my pillow-

unless you are familiar with the Gilbert O'Sullivan song "Alone Again, Naturally", this particular post is going to seem a bit stupid. But allow me to assure you from the outset that it's brilliant. Please remember to sing the post. not this part. it will be self-evident.

Oh pillow of buckwheat
where did first we meet?
at a k-mart display of items seen on tv by me
little did i know
that i would love you so
i'd be whisked away
to another day
on your grainy midnight O-cean
asleep again, naturally

if you need me to sing it for you, i can. email me. i'll give you the number.
"you give me yer number, i call you up, you act like a p****, don't interrupt..."

adored by pot smokers world wide

What Famous Leader Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

my culture's active- like in yogurt

yeah. that was pretty much it. i always have loved the idea of there being active little creatures in yogurt that fight the evil yeasties. too bad they put so much sugar in yogurt. seems so counter-productive. i've been very lackluster feeling lately and that's why i haven't posted. sometimes i feel like a leah in a world of rachels.
occasionally i wonder if some of my friends think i drink too much- like when they say, "hey, maybe you have a problem." but then they will haul off and buy me a forty! what's that about? are they part of the problem or part of the solution? i don't like the idea that you can't be part of both.
i'm still in the land of ice and snow. in the past two weeks we've gotten probably over two feet of snow. i kind of miss my cat. i've had lots of headaches because the doctor did something goofy to me.
i feel like listening to comfort music. i love eating macaroni and cheese and chili. listening to the carpenters is kind of like eating macaroni and cheese and chili. it makes me feel a little ashamed but kind of comfortable on the inside.
do you guys believe in parallel universes? do you think that everything that has ever happened is still going on somewhere? i used to think that, but i don't anymore. so why do i still sort of believe in time travel? it doesn't make sense. i wish i made sense and i wish i didn't have to worry about making sense to others. these things drain my essence and make me down. spinal meningitis got me down. i recommend ween to everyone. everyone. i also recommend Hurricane as a suitable and cheaper substitute to Olde E.

Must've Been the Kraftwerk Question

Which David Bowie are you?

I stole this from the SmashistPanties girls page. I hope she doesn't beat me up. I am only Berlin Era Bowie. She could probably take me out.

Doo-Doo Retreats and Dirty Little Secrets

I talk to a lot of people everyday and to my great surprise, a lot of them actually seem to enjoy talking to me. Or at the very least, despise it enough to tell me gross things. I recently had a very nice man describe to me (in a public place, mind you) a recent trip he took that I can only refer to as a doo-doo retreat. He is in his fifties, I would say, and trying to turn over a new leaf in the health department. Apparently turning over new leaves in ones life involves a hearty amount of colon flushing. Being the rabid fecalphiliac that I am, I was chomping at the bit to hear the details. So he proceeded to tell me that he spent thousands of dollars to gently place a hose up his own rectum. The hose releases water, preferably warm water, says he, that flushes out your large intestine. Now I for one would give my right eye for the clean feeling that I'm sure only flushed out intestines can give you. Two or three thousand dollars to insert the hose up my own ass? I don't think so. That kind of cash means that someone else should be doing the dirty work here. Strange. We consider cleaning toilets to be the most hideous of cliched hideous jobs, but we'll pay a couple grand to have the exquisite pleasure of sparkling clean intestines. I don't want waste matter sticking to the walls of my intestines and gradually poisoning my body. Do you? I bet you really feel high and mighty after that sort of operation. (Once you get over the shame, naturally.) But I guess part of the two thousand dollars is so that you CAN insert the hose yourself. You see, the beauty of this whole doo-doo retreat set up is this: I'm not exactly sure what your paying for. That sounds like capitalism at it's finest! I would open up a colon cleansing business here in Rochester, but from what I gather, that sort of thing is best done on an exotic island.
I would like to introduce a new feature to this blog entitled:
What the Statistics Show
You may sort of consider this the first installment. The other night I had a splitting headache and I was talking to my friend Tesia, who lives in Arizona. I said that I supposed my head probably wouldn't explode, judging from past experience with divers and sundry headaches. She said, yes, that the statistics showed that it was unlikely that my head would explode. We also discussed what was keeping me here in Rochester. She said quite platonically that I could come stay with her- that she had a large bed. We decided that the statistics also showed that there was no reason for me to stay here...
I like the statistics. I for one feel that they are a pretty encouraging lot. Nice to know you've got numbers on your side against such things as exploding heads.

Boohbah

The most fascinating and addictive site known to man or infant. I could spend hours without blinking or even thinking of blinking. Strap on yer huggies and check it out if you have a few hours to be hyp-mo-tized! Please. I beg of you. Click the title link. Enter Boohbah land. Move your mouse around. Click on bubbles and horns and boxes and circles. It makes me lightheaded and weak. Colours circles green box spiral road of bubbles everything hangs in air pure colour air look there's mommy click click floating falling floating poopie poopie

Don't Make a Speculum of Yourself!

so i haven't been to the gynecologist in three years. i went this morning. i was getting ready to go and i put on red lipstick because i thought it was the obvious choice for the sweater i would promptly be taking off when i got to the doctors office. then i realized that red lipstick is a little too come-hither for a gynecological exam. so i swapped to brown. i looked infinitely less excited and gussied up at that point. does that make sense at all?
ps: the doctor had a visible booger in her nose throughout the entire procedure.
ps#2: about 8 inches of snow since last night and counting. yay! one needs to be surrounded by something pristine after vaginal violation.

You Filthy Jorge!

all this talk of pedestrians and the ensuing jeanne worship made me casually begin thinking of actual pedestrians. when i am in a car, i take on the following role/attitude:
get out of my way, puny mr. puny walking head!
I am in a car! you are still doing the archaic upright biped thing.
your puny skeleton- granted, a marvel of design- could be crushed easily under the wheels of this isuzu, modern wonder of japanese design. yes. i am talking to you, silly mr. headphone man.

then i promptly feel ashamed of myself and decide to slow down and be nice to someone.
when i myself am a pedestrian, i take on a similarly cocky/invincible attitude. during winter months, i am rarely à pied. however, in the spring and summer i frequently walk to work. i take a devil may care attitude toward pedestrianship, also known as a foolhardy one. i figure that if a car hits me, they will get in a ridiculous amount of trouble. it's as though i believe that a car will run me down and i will peel myself off the pavement and immediately begin litigation.

today my back hurts. i am old. i helped take a two year old to some traveling petting zoo yesterday and assisted in changing my first diaper. the young child was frightened by most of the animals. i can't say that i blame her. childrens books are illustrated with pictures of brightly coloured animals that show a complete lack of matted hair, gnarly brown animal teeth, or puddled urine. surprisingly, elephants aren't just smooth and grey. they are giant leathery things with wiry hair and wet, oozy trunks and they smell of nasty elephant doo doo. plus, the gluttonous, lazy american lifestyle definitely spills over into the petting zoo arena. these animals stay cooped up in a 10 x 10 area and get food stuffed in their mouths all day. i think this petting zoo was a harsh wake up call to this two year old. she is sure to become a rigorous carnivore now. **sigh**

no. i think i decidedly disaggree. you can't worry too little about pedestrians. strictly nonmetaphysically speaking, of course...har

POTENTATER IS LORD OF THE TUBERS!!! 

Dear Martians,

Please see the 7th comment on the preceding blog. It relates to you particularly.
You too, Sweden. La fille is not fickle, just remiss.

Here, Here

I FINALLY buckled down and figured out how to add links to others blogs on the sidebar. I should have done it a long time ago. I am retarded. My current favourite link is the Edit-me link. I just keep clicking the "Refresh" button and hope for a miracle.
Unless I am sorely mistaken- and I hope I am- I believe the currently evil bird has biten my earring in two. I must away to a mirror and look further into this matter. I think a certain Roman ruler is in serious trouble, mister.

Where are my socks?

Where are my socks?

the canadian talk cracks me up!

Mon Coeur en Hiver

there is nothing cuter than birdie anger. when tiberius gets mad at his toys and pushes them around, it is the purest form of cuteness known to man.
yesterday was a beautiful snowy day that had to be ruined by an employee "Winter Party". in each previous year, i managed to get out of attending. sadly, i was suckered by a technicality this year. after quite a bit of necessary drinking, things were okay i suppose. why do people feel constantly bound by tradition? i don't think they honestly want to have a winter party every year. i don't think half the population enjoys holidays and such. people entertain the most ridiculous of traditional, romantic notions. i have decided to place arbitrary blame on the movie, "a miracle on 42nd street". is that the name of it? i have never celebrated christmas, but it seems like horribly tedious business. "celebration" could be carried out in a far less stressful way than spending every dime you have. i want purity in celebration. let's celebrate snow instead! with unblighted chastity, it floats from one imaginary foothold in the air to another in the most ethereal way. with a beauty and power paralleled only by other natural theatrical productions, it makes me ache for reasons i can't quite pinpoint exactly but that have to do with my cells being so staunchly human and vulgar. snow makes me feel weightless in time- like i'm floating in time rather than space and the normal gravitational pull on the hands of the clock is no longer a constant. i love snow.
i made the mistake of sitting in the "hand holding" section at the meeting today. i was going to sit by myself, but this nice group of black ladies kept asking me to sit with them. i usually sit by myself. i knew they were hand-holders. oh well. the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the amber. so i buckled down and braced myself for the onslaught of affection. heh. my family never hugged or touched. so when we all stood up for the opening and closing prayer, i felt like i was playing 'red rover' or something. red rover, red rover, send jesus right over. hee hee.
i feel like i haven't done anything really interesting on this blog lately. i'll try to get something nice and interactive or visually stimulating out here soon.
as a quick note, i did indeed sucessfully knit a hat. it's lovely. if anyone knows of any easy to knit sock or booty/bootie(???i will knit up pirate spoil???) patterns, please send them my way. if you send me your address and fifty dollars i will knit something splendid for you. perhaps out of feathers.
i hear nick drake upstairs.
i think rasputina is perfect snow music.
ok. au revoir, mes amies. un hiver heureux partout et à tout, une bonne nuit!!!
la fille du fromage

ah...the scintillation of her diadems

fodder for the queen
she wants to be fodder
scarlet and mean
a duplicitous nature and rancid smell
"aha!"-she points her finger
for she reads hearts ever so well
manipulative judge
pitied and adored
your grudges still suckle
on the breast of a whore

...sorry.
i'll be a good girl now. actually, i have been all along.