Happy F*cking Valentines Day
2007-02-10 2:12 a.m.
Since I do not have a valentine (save Loki) to share my love with this oh so joyous holiday season, I thought I'd share this video by Lisa Nova with my male friends to ensure that their Valentine's Day is a good one. Pay close attention potential Lotharios:
0 People have tried to sell me ViagraThings I Dont Recommend Doing Number 74.
2007-02-08 6:38 p.m.
I was making my tri-weekly trip to the Kwickie Mart for Diet Coke and lottery tickets, the vocation of the damned disabled. When I got home and parked my car, I was attemping some sort of kundalini yoga move where I opened my chakras at the same time I opened my car door, and one of my 1 liter Diet Coke bottles fell onto the ground and rolled under the car. I could hear it rolling towards the curb and I was determined to retrieve my dollar's worth of soda. When I got to the median and squatted in the compost, I could hear a hissing noise. I was fairly certain it was too cold for snake season, so I thrust my arm under the car and pulled out my errant bottle. I felt a lovely cool sprinkling on my face. I turned the bottled and saw a tiny hole near the top third of the bottle. I turned it so the tiny sprinkler was facing away from me as I walked up to the front door. Here came the tricky part. How was I going to get inside my house juggling a leaking bottle, keys, purse and bag 'o goodies? I decided that the most logical thing to do would be to place my mouth over the hole in the bottle, either placing my tongue strategically over the little hole or just elegantly sipping the tiny mist of cola escaping from the hole. I completely underestimated the power of carbonation. I really wished I had stayed awake in chemistry class. I tried the tongue thing to no avail. It took only a matter of seconds until aerosolized Diet Coke flooded my sinuses and started spewing from my nostrils. My determination outweighed common sense and I made it to the sink before I set the bottle down and expelled a gallon of tan colored snot from every orafice in my head. As I opened the bottle and poured what little cola was left into another container, I considered the amazing sinus infection I would soon be getting and how on Earth I was going to explain it to my doctor.
Top Fives.
2007-02-08 3:50 a.m.
Top Five Shows I'm Watching on Tivo:
1) Sopranos on AE
2) Scrubs
3) Moral Orel
4) CSI: Miami
5) House
Five Things That Would Make Me Even Cooler:
1) Another tattoo.
2) A nose ring.
3) Robot Dancing
4) Anything with the word Prada written on it.
5) Winning the iditarod with a sled pulled by persian cats on crack.
Five Delusions I'm Currently Suffering Under:
1) Natural oils are good for the hair so I don't need to bathe every day.
2) Being noctural is bringing me closer to the cats.
3) I'm conserving water and electricity by wearing pajamas all the time.
4) The more make up I buy the prettier I am.
5) If I don't get an iPhone I will never get married and have children.
Five Things I Covet:
1) My neighbor's wife.
2) Those Doc Marten boots with eighteen eyelet lace up thingies.
3) A Butler that looks like Stephen Frye
4) A big four poster medieval bed with velvet curtains.
5) A bathtub full of caramel.
Five Things I Have Eaten Today:
1) Toasted english muffin with low fat margerine.
2) Low Fat Brownie
3) Lean Cuisine Three Meat Pizza
4) Diet Coke
5) Some low fat frozen noodle veggie meat microwave thing.
Comments.
2007-02-07 12:46 a.m.
Some of my funniest writing (I think) ends up being left in comments on other people's blogs. Usually I'm responding in a very quick offhanded way to something they've written. Sometimes I'm giving unhelpful advice, answering a question or just commiserating with their situation. If you have a favorite Kungfukitten comment, let me know and I'll add it here. I'm not even going to put these in context for you, I'm just going to post them.
Left on Stepfordtart's diary: "I just assumed that my friends across the pond grew up with the same glue that I did! Elmer's glue sounds like the PVC stuff that's chalky white and dries clear. The boogery (not to be confused with buggery) stuff you mentioned sounds like what we called rubber cement. It was a lot more fun to play with, but the smell could make you pass out only to wake up on the far corner of the playground with empty containers of two percent milk strewn around you."
Left on SparkSpark's Diary: "I had a dream about you smacking me on the ass with a hot pink halibut while singing MC Hammer's 'Can't Touch This.' Then Tom Cruise served us trifle. I'm still not sure what this means."
Her Reply: "FYI, I had that same dream about YOU! Except, instead of Tom Cruise, it was Bob Newhart."
Left on Witty's Diary: "You should have sneezed repeatedly on the back of the girl's neck at the bottle return and then started talking loudly to her about your mysterious medical condition: 'I just can't get rid of this cough and it started at the exact same time as my skin started peeling off *hack hack hack* you know when you get a really back sun burn and your skin starts peeling off, it's like that but kind of a weird color too *hack hack hack* I've tried antibiotics, creams and oatmeal baths *ah-choo! Snarf* but my doctors don't know what the hell is wrong with me.' She probably would have run away so fast you could have gotten her credit and left over cans."
Mist1's Diary: "I generally let my cleavage do all the talking. Some day I'll have to listen more closely to what it's saying because I don't approve of the types of men it's bringing home."
Left on BlueMeany's Diary: "I dare you to park your car diagnolly through the two parking spots and then when she comes over, explain to her in great detail how God told you to do it and ask her if she's heard the gospel of Oprahism? Extra points for you yelling 'Praise Oprah' each time she makes a point."
0 People have tried to sell me ViagraA month late and a dollar short.
2007-02-06 12:51 a.m.
My period showed up thirty days late smelling of cheap cologne and even cheaper wine. Dot stumbled in making incoherent shushing noises to herself until she saw I was awake on the couch watching television.
KFK: "Where the hell have you been? I've been worried. Very very worried.
Dot: "Oh, what do you have to be worried about? You haven't had a date in so long that I really don't know why I bother anymore. Plus, you know, you are getting on."
KFK: "How dare you! I'm in my thirties! You're just being lazy!"
Dot: "What can I say? I got lost. Then I got distracted by a shoe sale. Some how I ended up at a rave in Seattle and next thing I know, I'm on a train to Canada."
KFK: "Excuses, excuses. Listen, next month I want you here at Tuesday high noon, as usual."
Dot: "Okay, fine, just get off my back. Here, I brought you some Ding Dongs."
KFK: "Thanks."
Dot: "So, we cool?"
KFK: "We are now. You want one?"
Dot: "Yeah. Got any booze?"
KFK: "There's some vodka in the freezer. Did you know your cigarette's in your mouth backwards.
Dot: "Oh, I was wondering why it wouldn't light."
Slumber Party Memories
2007-02-05 3:45 a.m.
I've been reading a lot about slumber parties lately and have been flooded with memories of tween craziness. I don't know how you guys did "Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board" but we took it very seriously. The lights had to be off with only a candle or a nightlight. The person who was getting lifted lay on the ground on top of a sleeping bag. Whoever was at their head would rub their fingers in circles against the liftees temples to aid her going into a trance. This person would also be the one telling a story. The story would be about the liftee and would end in their violent death (burning and drowning were favorites) and then everyone would start whispering "light as a feather stiff as a board" over and over again and everyone used their first two fingers to lift the girl as high as they could. We were very good at this, if the girl remained stiff, we could get her over our heads and nearly to the ceiling. It was only when the liftee burst out into a gigglefest that she got dropped. We also did the usual calling of cute boys, prank calls, make overs, truth or dare and the obligatory torture of siblings. When we got a bit older we'd actually sneak out and T.P. the neighborhood and write naughty words in soap on people's car windows (this was before the days of car alarms). No one ever said anything but the mother's must have known it was us. Especially as the only house within a mile radiun left untouched was the slumber party house. I can't explain the screaming. There has to be some sort of mathematical equation that explains why when one girl starts screaming all girls close by will start screaming too. I remember in particular, one slumber party where we were all in the basement rec room and a girl came out of the bathroom unexpectantly and set off a screaming chain. The hostess' father, who was a cop, came racing down the stairs in his skivies and a handgun which raised our screaming to a fenzied pitch that only the neighborhood dogs could hear. Lesson learned: never scream in a cop's house at 3:00am.