Oysters, Cat Rumspringa, Pee. Three important topics in one blog.

1. I ate a raw oyster. I was peer pressured. I thought it would be the devil, like cooked oysters are, cooked oysters are the tiny little taste-like-sweat devil... but I sucked it up. Get it? Sucked. It. Up. Like you do with oysters. Not funny? Okay.

I treated it like a little oystery jello birthday shot (which was kindly). Anyhow, turns out that I like slimy, saucy, little grey globs of flesh. The point is that once again I have to take back all the libelous slander I've expressed about oysters the same way I had to backtrack on sushi being yucky... which it isn't... if you don't order it in Northern Alberta at a place called, "Prairie Sushi". What is happening to me? I'm mutating or something. I'm all wild and adventurous.

2. My cat, Smarties, is back from her rumspringa. Her coming of age event where she snuck out and left for two days of sinning. The little ho. Thank the two year old for mangling the screen door so she could get away from the house. Anyhow, she was missing, during which time I knew that if she came home, she'd be pregnant; because she's in heat every 8 seconds. See how that works? So now I've been eyeballing her accusingly every time I walk past her.

"NAPPING, SMARTIES??? ARE YOU?? HMM???? TIRED FROM BEING A TOTAL PREGNANT WHORE?? Huh?? I see you came slithering back home. Make some poor choices did you? If you're pregnant, expect no help from me. You made your bed, cat. Do you even know who the father is??? Probably not, right? What's your next move? Cat welfare?? (Wait... do they have that? Because $$$).... OR maybe you want to go to the doctor and y'know... take care of this....? You could still get your life together, smarties. What about community college?? Was it the feral cats at Parliament, Smarties? Huh party girl? Couldn't resist, eh? Whore."

No really, is there such thing as cat abortions? Probably for a million dollars. Also, then I'd live in eternal guilt for forcing that solution upon my cat. Every time she looked at me in the future, I'd have to avert my eyes and bite my fist. Living forever with her leaving cat-pro-life pamphlets on my nightstand.... writing "KITTEN MURDERER" on my mirror in red lipstick, little cat picketers all around my house forever..... watching her try to herd around and mother the kids' stupid, horribly annoying zhu zhu electric hamster pets...... Waiiiiiit..... this could work.....

Oh fine. I'm going to hell for talking about cat abortions. I get it. Stop glaring at me through your fancy cd roms. She might not actually even be pregnant. Maybe she really listened to the talk I gave her about the facts of life. Maybe I'll just make her wear a scarlet letter.



3. Don't you think it would make more sense if the old fairy tale was, "The Princess and the Pee"? Because a pea? PEA? No... but if you pee in my bed, I'm going to get really princessy and cranky with you.

Me: OH EM GEE. Did I just feel something wet?
Bed: Yah. I'm peed. Everyone is waiting to see how you react
Me: WHAT? Everyone who?
Bed: The prince.... well Neil. He won't marry you if you're not grossed out.
Me: What?
Bed: Yeah. But you passed. You win.
Me: Do I? Do I really win?
Bed: Yep. There is only one loser here and it's me.
Me: Ha. Jokes on you, bed. I'm going to go sleep in the guest room
Bed: Yeah... Guest bed is a little starved for attention... you might not like what you find there. It took it to the next level so to speak... to see if you're a Queen and stuff. Think "princess and the corn".....
Me: Ooooh... nooooo... Oh man, Bed, you've always got my back. Can I get you anything?
Bed: Yah. A towel and some purell.
Me: Sooooo sleeeepy......glaughhhhhh
Bed: Yeah but could you... just...
Me: Crashing in 3.....2..........1
Bed: Hey... pssst.... wakey wakey.....about that towel?.... Hey! *shake shake*
Me: *snore*
Bed: please?

That's what I was thinking about as Barney the dinosaur sang to kids about the importance of getting married as soon as possible on tv... or something (Ha. tell that to SMARTIES *zing*). I wasn't paying that much attention, as I was imagining what I would do if someone peed in my bed to find out if I was a princess or not- rather than just ask.

Well aren't you going to ask? If you don't ask, I'm just going to go ahead and sleep on the couch.

My brain is a dried up little craisin. Not even zombies would want it in their cinnamon buns.

Alright, Nerdsquad. It's 12:33 am and I have been pretty much transferring files (long overdue) from my old crapattack, dell, missing-the-letter-k laptop to my glorious, new-ish (November=new, right? it totes does. That's right I said totes because I am delirious) macbook FOREVER. If you're on my twitter or FB, you've been skipping over my complain-y updates for hours. and. hours.

I've found that the most effective way to avoid the bajillion glitches in my dell is to use bluetooth to move files. OMG slow. So here is some rambly crap for you to read and enjoy while I watch the progress bar until I am hypnotized and strangle something inanimate. Like that cat over there.

1. Teenagers speak aloud to each other in text. IN TEXT. They SAY "smiley face" and they SAY, "Awww Frowny". Just when I thought emo pants were the most obnoxious things ever, this surfaces. The fact that I say, "Oh Em Gee" occasionally, weighs very lightly on this, though Geeks. For rlz. I stole it from another adult who happens to be totally awesome. Totes. This is what is happening to our youth. We're pretty much screwed when we get really old, eh?

2. The farmer in my Dell

The farmer in my Dell

High Ho Ontario

The farmer in my Dell has been sucking the life out of me all day and I need to step away, but if I do, I might never take the files off of it and I hate the people at the Net Nanny place because they make my life that much more difficult and they lie to me and say it will be easy to format the computer so that it is safe for a pre teen to use it without accidentally exposing his eyes to the unsavory internets- but it's not easy at allllllll, it's a pain in the arse and I need to sleeeeeeeeeep but I'm stupid and promised I'd do thiiiiIIIIiiiiiissssssssss killlll meeeeeeeeee.... (but don't really kill me, internet weirdos, spare me because look how dedicated to stuff I am. You don't find that every day.)

3. So on my old computer were all the old lame-o youtube vidlogs I used to do. That was a stroll down memory lane/back into cabin fever. Wild. Maybe I'll post a montage of them set to some peppy and then very sad early 90s pop music. Maybe I won't.

4. Maybe instead I'll have an oreo straw. I thought plain old oreos and beer were glorious but now you can drink your beer THROUGH an oreo. A straw made of oreos for beer. Think about that awesomeness. I mean really sit down and think about it.

5. I have to stop. This blog is whacktarded.

6. I wish I was at the waterslides right this second.

What's this, then? Publicity? :D

I got a blog award? A LeMonAde one? Cool.

Tadaaaa. Thanks Mary!

You know what, though? Nobody knows who built this award, bless their hearts. So I'm changing it. Renovating as it were. That's right, I'm making a whole new lemonady award to spam around. Why? Because I want to see how far this blog award madness goes. It'll be the ..... um, the the Hard Lemonade Stand Award. Cool it all up a little, and I'm only giving out 2. And you know what else? I'm photoshopping an emu onto the trophy/award, just because I can.

<---- Award.


I'm also going to attach the following creepy questions to the award for the lucky ducky winners to answer:

1. Look to your left. What/who do you see?
2. What'd you have for breakfast?
3. What are you wearing?
4. Who nominated you for this nonsense?
5. Do you know the lyrics to 'afternoon delight'?

If you get this award, post it in a new blog along with that excellent survey. Then pick 2 blogs you enjoy to receive it. Notify your choices. That's it. Only two people of your choice can win the coveted hard lemonade stand award.

Cheers to *mary* for the nod! So. Here are my selections:

• 1. Mary- Little Weloo's Mom. 'Cause she gave me an award and all. Also because her blog is funny shtuff.

• 2. Laoch of Chicago- because I want to see how/if he'll deal with this- and because I want to promote his blog. I've been following it for years.

• 3. Thystle Again with the funny.

WHY did you get to give it to three people, Michelle? I thought you said only two people could have it.

Because I made the award up, damn't, so I can do whatever I want. Now get lost.




Ha. Making homemade blog awards is funny.

Why do I do this to myself?

Go on random youtube-athons until 2 am? Like, did I need to watch videos about extreme body builders and morbidly obese children for that long? It just all seemed so bizarre and spellbinding at the time. 6:30 am came waaay too quickly today. Duh duh duh duh duh, Self.

Glurgh. Tired. I need to coffee up.

Take a gander at this apparently ultra-fascinating stuff:

That's right, I'm very retarded.

Random Insomnia project #87

I'm bored.  I should go to bed. 

Instead, I think I'll research gang hand signs on wikipedia and practice them into my web cam.  

You think I'm being funny.  Silly you.  But you're still here and you're still reading this.  Why?? That's what you're probably asking yourself.  WELL, it's because everyone here in suburbia knows that gang hand signs are veeeeery intriguing and you probably want to find out more.  Well you'll have to look it up for yourself because I'm finished with the gang sign thing now and I've moved on to international fonts.

HEY!  Look what I can make on my keyboard: ßßßßß  !!  Awesome, huh?

Now I have to look up Russian gang signs.  I think they have to do them through mittens, though.  Hm.. maybe I'll have to make new ones up.  It appears as though there are no through-the-mitten Russian gang hand signs.  I could corner the market!  

[crickets chirping]

Good stuff.  It's pretty learny at my blog.

G'night, Nerd Squad.

One day, when I write a novel, I hope the publishers never see this blog entry because geez.