nobody here but us chickens

Random Wednesday

wm votedI would like to stab whoever is responsible for my waking up with frigging Peace Train stuck in my head right in the eye.

I’m pretty sure there was a better way to structure that sentence.

Hell’s bells. How is Kurt Loder 70???

Your phone is Catholic?

after all of these years

He’s like the Jim Jones of Facebook, without the charisma and Powers Boothe good looks.

Yes, but I was pretty proud of my little narrative up there. So. There’s that, I guess.

What? I drink tea. I enjoy tea. It’s not my raison d’etre.

ecks o ecks o ecks o ECKS O

Why would you do this to yourself?

Your phone is a Democrat.

I see absolutely no point in my attending that meeting.

This song reminds me of the good parts of the 90s for me. Mostly it was a near decade of one bad choice after another – bad friends, bad boyfriend, bad college decisions, bad job decisions, bad fashion choices, bad bad bad. But here and there were some good things.

This new persona is going to chafe.

I don’t come to work so I can listen to you clear your throat all day.

It’s resignation. One hundred percent resignation. How depressing.

Guess Snyder’s going to have to carry around his chunks of infrastructure a while longer. Good for the biceps or something, right?

What? That was not a snicker.

mmmm Snickers mmmmmmm

I’m wearing thong sandals. How can I have something in my shoe??

Yeah, I don’t really have a “summer look”.

I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like me very much. I don’t think that’s an issue for me.

The first time I ever heard this song was on Witchblade. The hot musician guy was “performing” it. I was hooked.

I liked that show. Witchblade. I’d like to watch that again. I still have some of the comics.

I think I’m hungry.

I’m definitely hungry. I wish I could go out for lunch. I don’t want to sit here in this soul sucking pit of misery.

For my Texas peeples.

“Hooray for us!” lunch. Yeah. Hooray for you.

Holy wow. Ann Jillian.

It’s too nice outside for me to be trapped in here. I say this knowing full well if I weren’t here, I’d just go home and be in my house.

“I would like to not be interrupted in the bathroom to be asked what I want on my baked potato.”
“I would also like that. In case that might happen in my future.”

I still can’t believe that Kurt Loder is 70. How is that even possible?

This has to be my all time favorite Grant Lee Buffalo, though.

Suppressing my personality is taking a toll. I’ll adjust.

Can we just cancel this meeting? Aren’t you hiring someone this summer whose job it will be to handle precisely what this meeting is about? Can’t we just wait til that happens and hand it all over to him/her?

I don’t know what to tell you. I am not an event planner. And suppressing my personality is one thing. Pretending to be an event planner is entirely other.


UGH. Stupid CMS. Why isn’t this working?

I generally remind the world, or at least the portion that glances in my direction from time to time, to read Harrison Bergeron at least once a year. Today Reason is doing it for me. And rightly so.

I feel like most of the people on this campus have never read Harrison Bergeron.

Tiny, goat chewed Kurt Vonnegut is nodding at me in approval.

It’s possible this is a migraine inching its way up my neck and into my skull and sending little tendrils of creepy doom around and into my brain and latching onto the inside of my forehead with its thousands of tiny alien sucker claw grabby hands of hellish hellness.

Honestly, how does my desk get this dusty?

I’ve always liked the word “scofflaw”. If you say it fast it’s sort of like skaflaw. Skaflewie. It’s a neat sound anyway.


I guess I’m not really looking for inspiration lately.  I am, however, looking for someone to tell me what to do with the rest of my life, because I sure as hell haven’t been able to figure it out.

I have no idea what you’re talking about.

Taking an Australian job quiz is probably not going to offer me a solution to my problem.

I do love post cards.

I need a nap.

Now I’m thinking about how dusty my house must be and how it’s so much easier to ignore that dust.

I’m a disaster.

Hold your balls until the end.

But. But. Some animals are more equal than others!

I really wanted that skirt I saw at Meijer. But I did not spend the money.

Why does this stupid macbook keep trying to go to sleep on me?

I just remembered Miss W’s Thomas the Tank Engine tent.

I was just reminded of one of my favorite jokes.

No one cares, Miley Cyrus. No one cares.

I want to try this scent out.

I love Kitty.

A fancy journal is not a gift I will ever use.

Oh man. Tears.

I keep saying ragon wide. And when I try to say it correctly it comes out ragon wide.

I wonder how they decide who gets to sing

I don’t know. It’s less “loneliness” that I’m getting and more “ax murderer.” Although I suppose ax murderers are, by their nature, a lonely sort.

Gah. Now my keyboard cover is covered in slobberishness.

It is really weird typing without a keyboard cover on this thing.

Aw man. We’re out of iced tea.


1 Comment

  1. ScottO

    I saw Witchblade perform at the Soul-Sucking Pit of Misery in ’98.

    Punch line to my favorite joke? “Iceberg, Goldberg, they’re all the same!”

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