amand_r

"MOMMY DON'T GO TO THE BEER FESTIVAL WAH."

I wanna write this up, but I have so much to do that I really cannot spare the time, so here's a half-assed entry.

( THE BIG POUR NUMBER 4 )

By: Amanda
Grade 4

1. So last night we're decorating the tree at my parents' house. My parents' cats have a track record for wrecking the tree, so this year we're just putting crap ornaments on it and hoping for the best. So mom is putting lights on and messing with branches and she distractedly says, "Next year we'll put some real ornaments on. Get some Ketamine and puts the cats down for a week."

Yeah. LOL

2. For all of you stateside who grew up with her, Olivia from Sesame Street has died of breast cancer. I loved Olivia and her rad braids.

3. Sometimes, SNL gets it right.

4. I can only conclude that the Jantoistas didn't like my meagre offering. SADFACE.

5. CARD ROLL CALL: kel_reiley, sivatheminty, miss_winterhill and lawsontl--thank you so very much! J, your squid is fucking awesome. You should do some TW comics. We can collab!

6. Okay, so Dexter season three is not available on netflix to watch instantly (someone write me Dexter Morgan/Hannibal Lecter mentor!fic. DO. IT.). In my desperation for a series to watch while I do shit, I remembered that I haven't finished The L Word, so I started season three. The L World, man, is horrible, but I can't stop watching it. It makes me cringe on the part of all women, and I'm trying to figure out why that is. But I think it starts with the lyrics to the theme song:

( The Way That We Live, by Betty )

7. AWWWWWW YEAH HAAHAHAHAA.

8. HEY! LATER TODAY! DRINKS POST! GET YOUR ALCOHOLIC RECIPES HANDY!

9. ALSO, RPS. WOOT!

10. AND A BODY, DEAD, WRAPPED IN PLASTIC.

11. IF SOMEONE MADE A TORCHWOOD VID TO THIS SONG, IT MIGHT TOP I'M A BOSS. MIGHT..

OMG I HAVEN'T WRITTEN ANYTHING IN TWO DAYS STOP SEND HELP STOP SEND BOOZE STOP SEND BANANAS AND MILK STOP SEND ANNE RICE STOP NO WAIT STOP PLEASE DON'T STOP DO YOU UNDERSTAND STOP PLEASE STOP STOP THIS IS CONFUSING WITH ALL THE STOPS STOP.

( The Montecristo is a great cigar. Spoilers for season one of The Sopranos. From 1999. But I'm being nice. )

A FUCKING ALBACORE AROUND MY NECK!

FBI agent: We want Johnny Sac, but more than that we want Montarno and Teressi.
Junior Soprano: I wanna fuck Angie Dickinsion. We'll see who gets lucky first.

1. Pornsultant Bob is on Doctor Who Season 2:

Pornsultant Bob: K9 is really cute.
Amand-r: Oh Jesus. K-9. I read a Jack/K-9 somewhere.
Pornsultant Bob: That just seems unnecessary. Robotic Bestiality... Not my cup of tea.
Amand-r: Not when it's Jack. It's like it HAS TO BE DONE BECAUSE IT'S THERE.
Pornsultant Bob: Only for Organic Life. Kinda.
Amand-r: INTERSPECIES...ROBOTICA?
Pornsultant Bob: If Robotica is a legitimate form of porn, than so is an inflatable girlfriend.
Amand-r: YOU MEAN THEY AREN'T?
Pornsultant Bob: Not really.
Amand-r: Next you'll be telling me that there's no such thing as the donkey show.

2. Yesterday, misswinterhill said that I was squee anthropomorphised, so feel free to think of me as that.

3. Thanks for the nice words yesterday, mah peepes (I spelled that Samuel Pepys style—YE OLD PEEPES.)

4. So last night sthayashi, the delectable E, and another friend, we'll call him Clyde, came over for dinner and drinking. Clyde is not with our mad drinking skills, as you can see on the POST IT NOTE:



( But around beer three, the swords came out. )

5. I watched the Dead Like Me movie Friday night. I really really liked it. I mist be the only one. Thoughts later.

6. I have to get my fingers to work this morning. Right now they feel like they're made out of gummi worms. Fuck.

1. I love me some rap. I don't know if you all knew that, but I do, and I get it in the strangest places. I don't listen to the rap on the radio, though I do have a few classic hits, and maybe TI's 'Live Your Life'—DON’T JUDGE!, but okay, so I have the Blade soundtrack. It's nothing but rap, peoples, and WHAT AWESOME RAP IT IS. However, sometimes, as is the case with other genres, rap lends itself to

Gang Starr feat. MOP: 0.5 and 0.5 (no really, that's the title), for instance, contains the following line:

( lift that ass up like gravity )

2. I did nothing last night, peoples! NOTHING! IT WAS GREAT! I HAD BEER AND I WALKED AROUND OUTSIDE IN MY BARE FEET LISTENING TO IRIS DEMENT ON THE IPOD. Then I lay out on my sidewalk and stared at the sky. It was bloody fantastic.

3. Went to see the kitty of doom, Miho, the Bengal kitten of emquilxy's, and she is indeed a small deadly assassin! I threw myself into a tar pit just so she could pull me out. Then we took back the neighborhood from the corrupt cops.

4. Pauly Shore's "Son In Law" is a tragically underrated film. Am I still the only one who refers to the head as a melon?

BACK FROM THE LAND OF DRUNK. DID YOU KNOW IT WAS RUN BY ELVES? WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME?

Okay, quick moment here before I actually write about shit that matters (or rather, does NOT matter). SOMEONE UP THERE IN SPACE/OTHER METAPHYSICAL LOCATION OF GOODNESS AND/OR MERCY, has decided that I have gotten enough shit in my life, and has lifted the three day hangover punishment that I have been inflicted with ever since emquilxy made me that creamy cat when I was 20. I know, I know, it was probably the baby Jesus, punishing me for drinking underage, but ever since that moment, every time I have gotten drunk, I experience migraine vomit hell like you wouldn't believe for at least two days after.. IMAGINE PROJECTILE VOMITING AS R2-D2 DOES THE ELECTRIC SLIDE IN YOUR BRAIN WHILST DEEP THROATING A BLENDER. Yes. Well.

THE POINT IS that since the beginning of this year, I have...been drinking a great deal more. And getting drunk. And with the exception of one RWH, every morning I wake up fucking chipper and SO VERY MUCH NOT HUNGOVER. That's right, bitches! I paid my dues! ::shakey fist::

Srsly. Let me translate last night's post for you, so that you can see THE MADNESS. I'd like also to say that from a cold clinical standpoint, I knew EXACTLY what I wanted to say, and I knew how to spell it, but when I would be reaching for the W key, say, all I could do was stare in mock horror as my other hand hit the P key. There's only one conclusion I can reach regarding this:

I have an evil hand.

I'm trying to type this with my left hand, because I don't want to alarm the hand or anything, let it know that I'm on to it, but there's definitely something going on there. It gets twitchy. Sometimes it selects bad songs on my ipod, and sometimes I catch it calling 1-900 numbers on the cell phone outside of our budget evening minutes. I'm not sure what I should do about this, but I'm sure that if I emailed Christian Kane and asked him what he does to control his evil hand, he could tell me. OTOH, it's hard to tell, because I'm fairly sure that his evil hand was behind this. WTF, Christian? Iron Maiden? No. No no no no.

( Clarissa Explains It All! )

I have no idea what to do with the rest of the day. Hrm.