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.

The holy math proof is in my kool aid.

What? I'm supposed to be filling out 23479210573 forms instead of writing a really dumb blog? Huh? I haven't had any inspiration until the very second that these 'forms' became my project of the day? But..

Never mind those silly forms, you. Here is what is important today: Spiritual figures like the Popes and Oprah etc magically appearing on things like waffles and then observant, flimflammers citizens like me getting rich as a result. Because Ebay.

As you can probably imagine, I was pretty surprised when my daughter was making cherry kool-aid[1] last night and found a startling image in the bottom of the juice pitcher just before adding a thousand cups of refined, white sugar. Taken aback, we rushed outside to document this important event and I came to realize that if I hadn't become so entrenched in the many values of mixing FD&C Red No. 40 with sugar, I may never have had the moving experience of beholding this holy sight:

I want you to pause for a moment and really let it soak in. Let it wash over you. Just take a rest before moving on and breathe deeply.....

Okay.

Probably right now, your mind is reeling in amazement and you're like, "Is that.. no... could it be? But that's impossibly miraculous.... I think it might be....Yes... It's clear now that my eyes have adjusted to the virtuous light of my computer monitor or mobile Internet device.... I'd know it anywhere... I've seen that face in my dreams. I've seen it all around me. In the darkest nights and at the most beautiful dawn. It's the humble visage of none other than the sterling, Dr Phil McGraw in the red, silty koolaid mud powder of that dollar store pitcher!" And you rub your eyes with your fists in tiny circles and smile to yourself.

Yes. It is- and I have some corroborating evidence and diagrams to prove it. Lots Two of them. First, a visual aid:

See? Which is which? Dr Phil Twins? Camera 1... Camera 2... Camera 1 again.... And 2. Same. Let's go back to the left... and now the right.... Which is better? One on the left... oooor two? It would be like an animation if there were any difference between the two photos at all.

But maybe you're not so good at finding patterns and you need to see some diagrams? Maybe you don't rely on your poor, human eyesight and faith in Dr Phil alone- you're a soldier of science and you need to see a chart. I'm pretty awesome at mathing up charts and I'm a firm believer in backing up scientific claims and probable theories with proof via geometry and quadratics etc. In layman's terms, I think this venn diagram I've made around the transcendent Dr Phil outlines my point here pretty succinctly:

You see? They're all related. Not like family, dummy. Related as in homologous (*snicker*).

But what does this conclusive proof all mean? What is the message Dr Phil is sending us through my kool aid? Rest assured that I have the answer, and here it comes:

It's better to just watch the Dr Phil Show rerun if it's all that is on TV than to go outside and be mauled to death by badgers.

*X Files Music*

So, Zealots? Who wants to purchase a tshirt?

[1]Tangent: Yah. I totally give my kids kool-aid and it's neither healthy NOR organic. Those cults just gave it a bad rap. What's it to you, Hipsters? Eh? What could go wrong? My point is that it was on sale for $0.24 a packet & cheap overrules healthy sometimes. Besides, my mother gave me kool-aid all the time and the sugar did zero damage to my complicated and labyrinthine mind. In fact, I have my suspicions that it might have made me even more geniusly-enabled than I had originally been slated to become on God's little-giant list of people who are revolutionary. So back off, kool-aid haters. This is the good work. Fight the power. Besides, kool-aid now contains vitamin C supplements. Healthy AND Kool.

(There are a lot of really boring forms, okay? Seriously, I'm a smarter person than this)

Morning cuteness: is it really real- or what?

The following simulation is something that I like to call, "If Neil had cameras installed inside of his eyeballs/Angel of the Morning."

Psst... Neeeeeillly...

HooOoooOooNeyyyyyyy...


Psssst *tap tap*


Oh Neeeeily...



Wakey wakeeeeey....

Psssst, Honey! It's Moooooorniiiiing!



Good morning, Darling, did you sleep well?


Oh, you didn't? What racket? I slept like a new baby lamb.


Nope, didn't hear a thing. Nope, nothing at all. Totally dead to the world. See? My pillow is saturated in drool even! YAAAAWN... Such a sound sleep I had...


Who me? No I don't talk in my sleep.. perhaps I snore a titch...


I said what in my sleep?


OMG, I should write that crazy s%$# down.
Why yes, I am of partial British Ancestry. Yes, and French... You knew that about me already... Did you have a bad dream or something?


Why do you ask? Voulez vous desire la cafe or something? A spot of tea whatwhat? Is that why you're asking, Neil? Is it?


HmmMMMM? Is it?


Ehhh? You want some delicious tea, do you? Or some coffee?


Just a sec... Could you just.. just scratch that itchy spot..... I'll scratch yours.. Yeah, my arms are still numb from laying on them. Nope, I have totally useless arms just now. That's great. Just great.


Thanks hon. What's that? no I can't sleep in make up.


Yeah, it clogs your pores... TERRIBLE idea, unfortunately.


You what? You got me something? You are too good to me, Neily.


Vitamins, huh? Oh you got me some... "Morning... Glory...Ladee's beauty vitamins.... You think I need these...... no? Okay, *phew*."


Are they holistic, Darling? I bet they're just as helpful as punch.


So what have you got planned today, my dear?


Oh, you're in a hurry to get to work, eh? That's a pity. Give us a kiss then... Oh that big of a hurry huh? A big meeting, have you, Sweetest?


Well then, I'm off to have a coffee & a little splash of makeup. Yes, I promise to take the vitamins... Off you go!


Let me just...*if I can just swing these sleepy old legs around...* go have a look at the damage first...

I take no responsibility for anything I post in the next five days

I'm just saying. I am planning on visiting lots of blogs with hilarious percocet-comments. That's what I call them. Perco-comments. It has a nice feel, doesn't it? Anyway, be prepared to have your mind blown by the deep responses I'll be coming up with after skimming the first sentence of whatever you've posted because actually reading them through gives me vertigo.

Oooh. That made me dizzy. Gravol time.

Also, my broth is yucky. Don't tell Neil. He worked really hard on it.

Look! Sparkly psychedelics/the cat!

I think, instead of writing lots of NEW stupid blogs like this one, I'll just come back and keep adding to this very post. Good idea, Self. I'm pretty sure everyone is going to be waiting in anticipation for fantastic new ideas from you. I mean me.

I'd better go watch a movie and put the self publishing away now.

*Why is my itunes downloading something called 'rebel yiddish writers'? I am not even making it up.

*I think my comment on kurt's new blog entry is pretty much the definition of brilliance.

The time Yoda was heaping mountains of mental battery upon me in Chapters.

So today at Chapters, I was sort of minding my own business, perusing the advanced literary genius books when I heard some audible warbling... Someone was reading out loud. Fine. Someone must have just been reading an interesting passage to their shopping partner, right? WRONG. SO WRONG. This grown person was reading a magazine OUT LOUD in the store; all by them self. Just sitting there on the leather ottoman reading away an article in a magazine for the world to hear without even flinching. WELL. This is unacceptable behavior. Completely unacceptable.

So I got a little closer to have a listen, perhaps this person had found some kind of important article about the world's impending doom that must be given attention. Nope. It was an article about 'TWILIGHT' *shudder*. EwWWwwwwww. I was overcome with self righteousness and had to stare at her back from my little nest of books in the genius section. I stared DAGGERS at her. DAGGERS, you guys.

The imaginary conversation I had with her is as follows and is hence forth to be acted out by lego men in the medium of photographic storyboarding. She being Lego Yoda (in her ugly orange sweater) and me, The Lego Princess Leia (in her limited vestments). Here is how it all happened in my sophisticated mental faculties:

YODA: ...blah blah... release for NEW MoOn will be less than a MONTH away... *more muttering about Rob Pattinson* something something, collector's edition...

ME AS LEGO PRINCESS LEIA: HEY YOU! You are supposed to twitter with your Macintosh Apple Iphone, Jackass! *snicker snicker* Not OUT LOUD to strangers. And guess what? There appears to be nothing wrong with you apart from the fact that you're reading People magazine OUT LOUD to nobody. *snicker* So what's up with you, FOUR EYES? Get it? It's funny because you have glasses. Well you would if it was the real you acting this out and not Lego Yoda, who does not wear glasses, nor can I make any as I am out of pipe cleaners AND twist ties. *cough*

YODA: Huh? I can't afford an apple iphone.

ME AS BEAUTIFUL, SLIM LEIA: "Waaah... I don't have an apple IPHONE"... OH kvetch kvetch kvetch. That just makes you inferior and laughable (however somewhat lovable). Don't you even watch the apple advertisements? We "Mac" geniuses are cool and all down to earth and calm and helpful about every single thing on earth and wear practical, yet stylish blue sweaters all the time and you "non apple supporting people" are frantic, out-of-touch-with-couture twits. Hello?? Are you listening to me? It's even been recorded by the media? Besides, if you look at what I'm possibly going to be purchasing, you'll be embarrassed at yourself to see that it's an interesting glance at the common misuses of English grammar *chuckle*. Hilarious stuff. And you? Cultureless CELEBRITY RAG? Your so simple. Must be nice.

STUPID LEGO YODA: HA HA HA. You just said, "your", instead of, "you're" which was completely grammatically inappropriate.... And you fancy yourself a Grammar Stickler...*chortle*

LEIA THE TANTALIZING: What? No.... I didn't. I couldn't have.

YODA THE YODELING YAKHERDER: Yes you did.

LEIA THE SMART AND BRAVE: What are you even talking about, outloud-reader-to-nobody person? Your not making cent's.

YODA THE HUGE BULLY: You're doing it again. Your grammar is atrocious.

LEIA (the melancholy): STOP IT! STOP IT! LEAVE ME ALONE!!!

CHAPTERS FLOOR MANAGER: AW hell. YOU AGAIN?! I'm going to have to ask you to leave again, MICHELLE. Hand over the Starbucks cups.

LEIA: Um, I think you're confused. My name is Lego Princess Leia.

Floor Manager: Look, Freak- we've already contacted the police. I don't know how you slipped past security, anyway. Must be the clever disguise.

The REAL Princess Leia: You won't get away with this. You're wrong. You're ALL WRONG!!! YOU'LL SEE!!! AHAahahHHAhahahahahHHHAA!!

Then I swing away into the city on the spideywebs which I can shoot out of my wrists, pursuing the trail of Yoda (the lone outloud reader), who has slipped away unnoticed, of course.

Until next time, Lego Yoda... Until next time...

I got a new haircut

And here it is on Mr T:

And here it is on the Godfather:

And here it is on a smoking supernerd:

Looks pretty nice, eh? And yes, you're absolutely right, I DID go with a darker shade of blonde this time. Yes, those are caramel highlights, too. Good eye, Reader.