Bloody Hell.
2008-10-10 9:45 p.m.

So Dave the Assassin was true to his word and delivered to me a nice sharp knife that I can keep in my purse or in bed with me, or where ever. I've had a lot of fun opening it and closing it and trying to hide it inside my bra since I don't often wear things with pockets. I was bemoaning the fact that it wasn't quite as sharp as I would have liked it, while I was hacking up boxes for recycling night. Unfortunately, my mind drifted away as I considered the mechanics of men with wings (i.e. archangels). Would they have to wear special clothing for the wings to fit through or would they just burst through the fabric when needed? Maybe they could walk around shirtless, I could make it summertime. Or if we're going with magical wings then why couldn't they just magically pop out and retract without clothes ever being an issue. Then my mind drifted elsewhere and I started feeling sorry for the boxes. It was really sad when you cut up boxes to be recycled and they bled. It was violent, really, horrible, in fact. Then I realized that boxes don't bleed and I had in fact cut my finger off. Okay, I didn't cut it off, I just sliced my index finger above the second joint and it was happily bleeding away all over the place. I guess the knife is sharp enough. I'm certain the garbage men are going to wonder which bags the body is in.

6 People have tried to sell me Viagra
Has the World Gone Mad?
2008-10-09 11:13 p.m.

First of all, I can't believe the controversy I've caused over my sexual fantasy starring John Barrowman. Have you people seen Torchwood? Have you seen this scene? (If you want to skip ahead to the climax actual kiss it's at 3:10) My panties literally exploded. Seriously, there's lace and spandex stuck to the ceiling. Oh well, to each their own. More John for me. Mrow.

So anywho. I completely forgot what I wanted to blog about. I'm fairly certain that it was important. Earth shattering important. Even more important than my panties exploding. Oh fuck, I can't remember. Oh well, please enjoy this picture of my cat wearing an adorable Stila flower on a ribbon accessory for three seconds before she tried to desperately eat it off her neck while screaming. Did I help? No, of course not, I took pictures!

"That's it baby, you look fabulous. Now give me angry, happy, pissed, deranged, feral, yeah baby! Your feral would cause Versace to rise from his grave and design and entire set of feline evening gowns! The camera loves you, dah-ling!"

Cat in Bow: A Study

1 People have tried to sell me Viagra
I'm in love.
2008-10-07 12:48 a.m.

I love injected steroids with a passion that can only be rivaled by a full body massage in extra virgin olive oil with John Barrowman dipping pieces of rustic bread in my belly button hole and feeding them to me along with an expensive Amarone directly from his mouth. *shakes head* Was that too visual?


I'm just so happy not to be in excruciating pain, that I simply don't know what to do with myself. Plus, all my therapy shopping last week is paying off as I have packages arriving at my doorstep every morning. My UPS guy has seen me with raccoon eyes and disjointed pigtails in my kimono enough times to know I'm not presentable in the wee hours (uh that would be, ten or eleven) of the morning, so he quietly puts the package on my porch and taps on the door twice. He never, ever, rings the doorbell which sends my heart into defib and sends the cats racing in all directions at once. Like who the hell are they expecting? The only person that rings the doorbell is 1) The pizza man or 2) Someone with a clipboard. We hide from those clipboard people and as far as I know they don't eat pizza. Could someone also tell me why the hell is my doorbell set at 100 decibels? It's a teeny tiny one story house. I can hear someone stepping onto the porch. I don't need a doorbell that blasts my hair into a retro eighties rooster bangs hair. (Not me, just a random internet chick) Remember that?

Well, I digress, but really, the shopping is not frivolous. (Take deep breath and repeat ten times to myself) I'm bargain hunting my winter wardrobe, so I have decent work clothes and look like an actual employee and not the girl who cleans up unidentifiable puddles in the lunchroom. And on that note, dear readers, I'm going back to my fantasy now.

5 People have tried to sell me Viagra
Soundtrack to my life
2008-10-06 5:23 p.m.

My latest CD on perpetual replay in my car. Want one? E-mail me at my gmail account, same name as here. Figure that one out? :)

1) 4 Minutes - Madonna & Justin Timberlake
2) Lips Like Morphine - Kill Hannah
3) I Kissed a Girl - Katy Perry
4) Hey Now Now - The Cloud Room
5) Wolf Like Me - TV On the Radio
6) Sister - She Wants Revenge
7) Kennedy - Kill Hannah
8) The W.A.N.D. - The Flaming Lips
9) Hot N Cold - Katy Perry
10) Ooh La La - Goldfrapp
11) Tarantula - Smashing Pumpkins
12) Is It Any Wonder? - Keane
13) Bleed - The Fade
14) Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa - Vampire Weekend
15) Dancing With Myself - The Donnas
16) Paralyzed - Rock Kills Kid
17) You Have Killed Me - Morrissey
18) Crush - David Archuleta
19) Home - Great Northern
20) Viva la Vida - Coldplay

1 People have tried to sell me Viagra
S and some M and a pipe fox or two.
2008-10-03 5:56 p.m.

I have an S&M relationship with my rheumatologist. The amount of pain I am in is directly proportional to the amount of pain he inflicts upon me while I'm in the office. I even pay for it and thank him for it afterwards. I draw the line at kissing his feet, however. I should, as one does, start at the beginning.

My nurse's name was Xena Warrior Princess. Actually I added the Warrior Princess part, but she did do a handspring into the exam room, threw a chakra which bounced off three walls before hitting the computer and turning it on and while she was taking my blood pressure she was muttering "Yiyiyiyiyihiiiiyah!" under her breath. True story. "Girl, your hearts beating faster than a humming bird and your blood pressure is off the fricking charts." She even turned the machine towards me so I could see the 160/100 and pulse of 166 glaring at me. "I'm in distress, it's not that high at home." "Mmmm, hmmm." I don't think she believed me. "I promise I won't code on you." "Mmmmm, hmmm." She updated my medications then did a cartwheel out of the room.

The doctor came in and shook my hand. He always has this gentle four finger squeeze that I thought was kind of pansy assed until I realized if he had shook my hand like an insurance salesman I would have fainted from the pain and given myself a concussion on the wooden chair next to the exam table, where I set down my Vans and new argyle socks. He then proceeded to squeeze and move my joints around judging where it hurt by how loud I "Nah-gahed" and "glurged." Crystal if you're reading this, go here. He then proceeded to use gigantic needles the size of lawn darts to squirt cortisone in my ankle joints. "We'll use smaller needles for your wrists." "Oh my God, yes, please." I said. I think he lied. I think he used larger needles because at one point I levitated off the exam table squealing like a pig losing her virginity, (I'm so about the similies today) when the needle hit a nerve. "Where does it hurt, is it numb? Sometimes the feeling will come back." "Sometimes? As in sometimes it doesn't come back?" But to be honest, for the amount of pain I was in before I came into the office, I would have gladly let him chop off both hands with a paper cutter if he told me it would solve the problem. You know those ones from school? For the record, my finger regained feeling by the time I got home. Otherwise I wouldn't be able to type this. Or at least with not so many similies.

I've been watching xxxHOLIC an anime about a metaphysical shop in Japan and her high school lackey. They've introduced a character called a pipe fox which I am enamored with. I want a tattoo of a pipe fox around my upper arm. Wouldn't that be cool? Pipe foxes rock.

2 People have tried to sell me Viagra

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