100 Years of Aaaaaaaargh

Aaaaarrgghhh! I haven't been able to do anything besides work on this 100-year anniversary memory book for my church since about 11:00 last night. I started working sometime around 11:00PM yesterday, then I finally went to bed at seven (SEVEN!) Then I woke up a few hours later and I've been working on it all day. So I'm taking a much-needed break, and I have a few things to say:

I go to a church of dog chokers and people who eat shoes (and apparently, a girl who thinks shoe-eating is just sooooo cuuuuuute!)

It's evil of me, but that picture makes me laugh. And that's one of my Sunday School teachers now - not the dog, the dog choker. It seems that people who choke dogs make excellent Sunday School teachers, because he's a very good one. Also, sometime in the 1970s, there was a disturbingly menacing Easter bunny:

I think that poor little girl with her hands over her face still requires therapy because of her recurring nightmare of a larger-than-life pink bunny with Bad Boy Colin Farrell eyebrows.

And finally, look, I've found Ian McKellan's long-lost twin! He will be so happy.

I think I might get my first gray hair over this book. And if anyone complains that so-and-so's picture is bigger than another-so-and-so's picture, then I will unleash my wrath. And then, my head will probably explode. Also, there have been altogether too many members of my church named Pearlie. That is all.

Ohhhhh. So THAT'S why. THAT'S why I'm forced to look at Scott Savol's thuggish, expressionless face and his mustache that is thinner than his eyebrows. THAT'S why I have to hear his Ruben-esque, boring performances every week.

It is an evil, evil plan, I tell you.

HT: A Small Victory

Serve your E. coli in brass jugs, slightly chilled

Sometimes I mention articles (or blurbs, actually) that I see in The Week, the newsmagazine that my dad and I fight over every Tuesday. I love it, I love it, I love it IloveitIloveit. So I'm about to mention something else. (I just have to plug the magazine because it is so great - it's the news in about 40 pages or less, presented in a digest-y format that includes what a bunch of different publications said about this thing or the other, and it also has entertaining oddball stuff, and reviews of reviews, and such. I don't know what I did without it - I look forward to it so!)

So this week there was a snippet on the Health and Science page about a study that attributed antimicrobial properties to brass jugs, suggesting that they be shipped to every person living in a developing country, because the plastic jugs they're using are SO two months ago.

Brass jugs polish off disease

Brass water containers could combat many water-borne diseases, according to microbiologists. The discovery suggests that these vessels should be used in developing countries, where people typically view cheaper plastic containers as the better option. Water-borne diseases remain a serious threat in many poor regions of the world, with around 2 million children dying each year from diarrhoea. Efforts to provide safe drinking water have had difficulty reaching remote areas.

snip

But [Rob Reed, a microbiologist at Northumbria University in Newcastle upon Tyne, UK, who led the brass study] also heard an interesting piece of local wisdom: people believe that traditional brass water containers offer some protection against sickness. The idea intrigued Reed, who was in Asia investigating the antibacterial effects of sunlight on water.

snip

Reed, with his colleagues Puja Tandon and Sanjay Chhibber, carried out two series of experiments. In Britain, the researchers filled brass and earthenware vessels with a diluted culture of Escherichia coli bacteria, which can cause illnesses such as dysentery. They then counted the surviving bacteria after 6, 24 and 48 hours. A similar test was carried out in India using naturally contaminated water.

The amount of live E. coli in the brass vessels dropped dramatically over time, and after 48 hours they fell to undetectable levels, Reed told the Society for General Microbiology's meeting this week in Edinburgh, UK.

The key to the result is copper, which can disrupt biological systems, Reed explains. The element acts by interfering with the membranes and enzymes of cells; for bacteria, this can mean death. Pots made of brass, an alloy of copper and zinc, shed copper particles into the water they contain.

That's kind of interesting, except for all the logistical problems involved in replacing everybody's water jugs. And I have a wee little quibble - E. coli isn't actually a big causative agent of dysentery (which is scant, bloody diarrhea. Isn't that happy?) When I think "dysentery" (which is probably more often than most people, nerdily enough!) I think "Shigella" or "Entamoeba histolytica". One type of E. coli, enteroinvasive E. coli (EIEC) causes dysentery, but I don't think it's nearly as prevalent as the other two critters. I'd be interested to see what kind of activity the brass pitchers have on Vibrio cholerae, which is a pretty huge problem in countries with poor sanitation.

Mia, my favorite quasi-germaphobe, resist the temptation to encase yourself in brass. You must resist!

Dead centipedes and Paula Abdul

My friend Tara just shared this horrible poem, which she deems as the worst poem known to mankind. I think she may be right. She found it in an anthology of poems from schools across Canada, and it's written by Pauline Rueger (then age 16). Tara says that the anthology copyright includes 10% allowable mocking, so yay!

It is just so very bad that I have to share it.

Yesterday

Yesterday I found
a potato chip bag,
a newspaper,
a centipede,
and you.

The potato chip bag
was empty.
The newspaper was
last week's.
The centipede
was dead.
And you were
not for me.

Alas, yesterday was a failure.
Some days just don't pay.

So very, very bad. And Paula Abdul is so very, very ridiculous. This is on my AOL welcome screen today.

She does realize it's a reality show, right? And that she still has Y-chromosomer Bo, suitable for drooling and swooning (in the opinion of some, anyway)?

American Idol Top 6 - The 2000s thus far

UPDATE (June 21, 2005)
Files are back. :-)

UPDATE (May 19, 2005)
I removed the files, because I'm running out of bandwidth. :-) I'll put them back up around the beginning of June, when my bandwidth starts anew. :-) I could afford to host more files if y'all would refrain from ignoring my shameless begging section in yonder sidebar. :-)

Farewell, hairless Anwar - I'm sad to see you go and take your twittering cartoon birds with you.

I really don't have much to say about this week's performances, for some reason. And Pauler was surprisingly normal, although she did totally overuse the phrase "having said that". Having said that, here are a few comments and performance mpegs for everyone but Scott, because I didn't want him thugging up my server with his maddening face. GRRRRR.

1. Carrie Underwood - When God Fearing Women Get the Blues
   performance clip ~20MB, right-click and "save as", please
   I hate this song so much. It kind of colored the performance ugly for me, although I was glad that we didn't see another pink, sparkly, pretty pony princess dress with giant bouffant hair. And I REALLY hate that song. Really.
2. Bo Bice - I Don't Wanna Be by Gavin DeGraw
   performance clip - ~21MB, right-click and "save as", please
   Bo looks like a member of The Great Unwashed - I think he's been sleeping on a hillside for a week, protesting something or other. Other than his scruffiness and his annoyingly unnecessary sunglasses, I thought it was entertaining.
3. Vonzell Solomon - I Turn to You by Christina Aguilera
   performance clip ~20MB, right-click and "save as", please
   Awwww, she is as cute as can be. And awww, her brothers love her - one of them "almost, like, cried" (loose quote there.) She sounded great and looked adorable. I like her.
4. Anthony Federov - Something-Or-Other About 'Surrendering' by Celine Dion
   performance clip ~21MB, right-click and "save as", please
   I tend to compare these guys to Scott (my Scott, not "Scotty McThug, aka Look at Me, My Face Looks Like a Fist!" - and if Scott was an American Idol finalist confronted with the theme "2000-2005", then I seriously doubt he'd go, "FINALLY! I can sing that Celine Dion song, hooray!" Anyway, I'm liking Anthony less and less. I don't think I'll miss him if he gets booted.
5. Constantine Maroulis - How You Remind Me by Nickleback
   performance clip ~22MB, right-click and "save as", please
   I like that song - it was the one song of Nickleback's that they aren't all whiny about everything. I think Constantine did a good job, even though he almost kicked the cameraman and he whirled his hair around too much. He still makes me want to hose my television with an industrial-strength antimicrobial, in which I will then dunk my eyeballs and my brain. I hope he's eliminated soon, because I'm running out of ways to say, "I hate the gross way he does his unsolicited eye-molesting." Blech.

I wrote this before the results show, and after hearing the results of last night's voting, I just have to say - whyyyyyyy? Not even in the bottom three??? Are you KIDDING me??? Something evil is definitely afoot here.

Haaaaaaaate!

I'll do my AI post later, but for now, just let me say - that song Carrie sang? I hate it. I hate it so much. I hate it with the fiery heat of a thousand suns. It makes me want to jam sharp knives in my ears. I know it from the very first note, so that I may leap across the room and change the station - because if I hear, "Lock up your huzzzzzzzz-bands ..." then I'll be in a bad mood for the rest of the day.

Ugh, I hate it so much. Why did she pick that song? Because really, I hate it. Really.

I had to park about six miles from campus today when I met a student at the library for tutoring, and I got rained on, and my hair turned into this frighteningly huge, half-curly/half-straight, fuzzball mess. I hate that too.

Speaking of "hate", I think hate crime legislation is the biggest bunch of baloney ever. (Well, maybe not EVER, but you know.) It criminalizes thought, which is scary business. That is all.

Update: SarahK hates the "lock up your huzzzzzz-bands" song too. Yay. Because if she liked it, then we just couldn't be friends anymore. I hate it that much.

When I call Scott's apartment (which, incidentally, I have programmed into my cell phone as "Scott - work" because I refuse to think of it as his home) and I get his voicemail, it sounds like he says, "Hello, this is God, I can't come to the phone and blahblahblah," instead of, "Hello, this is Scott, and so on and so forth." That amuses me.

And if I actually did get an audible answer to prayer, I imagine there wouldn't be such a twang. :-)

And now, I'm off to do some tutoring.

Seeing how it's nearing summer (even though it snowed yesterday morning - SNOWED!) and there will be a smaller amount of material covering my giant rear end and my vomitous sausage arms, I'm motivated to start back into healthy eating. (And running, if I can stay well long enough - for the past few weeks, I'll start trying to build up to my old distance, and then get sick after about four days of it, then I have to start from scratch again when I feel better. Ugh.) So I was going through the Subway drive-thru today, and I remembered a situation that I witnessed at about this time last year at Subway.

There was a woman in front of me that didn't speak very good English (from her accent, I think she was from India) but the "sandwich artist" managed to understand what she wanted - that is, until they got to the all-important pickle/pepper/olive section. (Without those three, a sub it ain't - I have to have my high sodium content!) She said, "Hot pickles" and the guy reached for the pickles, which made her start to panic. "No no no no! No pickles! HOT pickles!" The guy was confused by these mixed signals, and tried again to pickle her. So she flipped out again. "Nononononopickles! HOT pickles! No pickles! HOT PICKLES!"

I really can't remember how the drama ended - I think she meant to say that she wanted hot peppers but no pickles. I know that the guy didn't scream, "What do you want from me????" while flinging both pickle and pepper all over anyone within flinging distance. I think that's probably what I would have done.

I like stupid criminals, and here's a local-ish one:

Robbery suspect arrested

Chad Muck was arrested around 5 p.m. Sunday near the Nicholas -- Clay County line after someone called in a tip on his location. Muck is suspected of working with Ashley Graham to steal electronic equipment out of several local churches and exchanging it for cash at numerous Kanawha county pawn shops.

The funny thing is - one of the items they stole was a camera, which they used to take pictures of themselves, and then they pawned the camera with the film still in it. Duh. The film was developed by police and then the two were arrested.

Obsessive Compulsive Completive Musiciveness Disorder

Waaaay back before Christmas, one of my friends mentioned that he was thinking of getting an iPod (or some digital music player) for his girlfriend for Christmas. At least I think that was his plan, because as soon as he said, "You have an iPod, right?" I started screeching, "Looooooooove! Loooooooooooove! I loooooooove it! LOOOOOOOVE my iPod!" and I kind of tuned him out. Because I do love that little thing. Anyway, I told him that I have approximately 1,254,500 mp3s, and I'd put the files on a disk for him and he could give her a bunch of songs along with it. Well, he changed his mind about Christmas and decided to do it for her birthday, which is in April -

Actually, let me back up further than that. A guy I work with and I have a similar music fascination, and he and I were talking one day LAST SUMMER about songs and whatnot, and I told him I'd give him a copy of my ginormous mp3 collection.

But then, I realized that I didn't have things like Regulate by Warren G, and He'll Have to Go by Jim Reeves, and flarking FREE BIRD. I didn't have Free Bird! So I had to acquire those because I could not, in good conscience, pass my sorely lacking mp3 collection along to someone who would most certainly scoff, "Bah! And she thinks she has a complete-ish collection!" Except that no one would really do that, but I THINK they will - it's part of my obsessive-compulsive-musiciveness. But after I added those omissions, I discovered that I didn't have There Ain't Nothing Wrong With the Radio by Aaron Tippin, or Get Low by whichever-bunch-of-guys-it-is, or Magic Man by Heart. (Incidentally, one of these days I'll put up a mpeg of the introductory scene of Josh Hartnett's Trip Fontaine in The Virgin Suicides, which is set to Magic Man. I looooooove that scene. Everybody went to high school with a Trip Fontaine, you know?) So I added those, only to notice that I was missing Brick House by The Commodores, More Than Words Can Say by Alias (darn Taco Bell commercial!) and Don't It Make My Brown Eyes Blue by Crystal Gayle.

Anyway, you see where this is going. IT NEVER STOPS. Until I have collected every song I have EVER HEARD, I will not feel comfortable burning my mp3s to disk for my poor patient friends.

And now that I've discovered a Top 500 Country Songs list on About.com, I'm afraid I'll never be able to put down iTunes, or step away from WinMX, and the madness will continue forever times infinity.

Hellllppp meeeeee!

My favorite pictures in the my world

I've been glued to the computer all weekend trying to finish the memory book for my church's 100-year service next month (the publisher suddenly decided that he needs the copy a week earlier than he originally told us - eeeeek.) In going through all of my pictures, I ran across some great ones from days gone by, and I thought I'd share some of my favorite pictures in the my world. Click on the thumbnail for a new window with a larger version of the picture.

This is me and three of my best friends from high school, during homecoming week my sophomore year. We had a different theme for each day, and this particular day was camouflage day (obviously.) We were shocked and in awe of ... nothing, if I recall correctly. Another theme we had was "oldies day" and one of my friends and I had these matching poodle skirts that our moms made. The guy in that picture wearing the tie-dyed shirt has fake sideburns that he made by cutting up his mom's bristly vacuum attachment. Heh.

Four of my favorite cousins and me, when we were in Florida for the tall one's wedding (1992).

My dad is a big fan of naps, and he was taking one on this particular day when Gabe, my cousin's little boy, grabbed his bear and crawled up on the couch beside him. Gabe is not really asleep, just faking a nap, which is one reason I think this picture is so cute.

This is my dad, two of my cousins, and me (in the red). I think it's funny that my dad carries my extra-large cat around in exactly the same way he's carrying me here. And please try not to be afraid of Dad's hair, even though it's ginormous. It was the late 70s after all.

This is from the "photo shoot" I did for my cousin's Easter cards - she always sends a wallet-sized picture of her little boy along with the cards, and I have always taken the pictures. He's a big ham. I think this picture is great - he's like, "Well, I'm off to argue a case in court - as soon I finish hunting for Easter eggs."

This is some of my cousins and me, from 1995 (since I have 40 first cousins, I have lots of cousin pictures. Heh.)

This is me and two of my closest cousins, having a picnic (1984).

This is my mom's parents - Grandpa had dementia and was bedfast for the last couple of years that he was alive. After we put a hospital bed in their house for him, Grandma told my aunt one day that she missed having him there when she was asleep. My aunt told her to just squeeze into his hospital bed, and they both fell asleep. I love, love, love this picture and I miss them both so much.

Scott and his niece and nephews, when the little one was about a month old or so. I made the kids incognito because I haven't gotten around to asking his sister about putting their pictures up - but you can still tell how cute they are and how cute Scott is with them. They adore him and vice versa.

My best girlfriends from high school (well, minus one) our senior year. We didn't routinely dress alike - we're all wearing the same shirt because we had baseball pictures that day, and five of us were managers or statisticians for the baseball team, while the other one played softball. I see them way too infrequently, and I miss them!

Two of my silly high school friends with infectious laughter (which I can almost hear when I see this picture). It's obvious that they need nothing more than my giant Velcro rollers and a stuffed mouse named Squeegee to be entertained.

The best study group ever, from graduate school. We're 'studying' for an animal physiology final, if that isn't obvious. :-) Two of us taught anatomy lab as grad assistants, so we had keys to the lab and it made a great place to study, with all the models and stuff. Pay no attention to the skinless guy in the corner, or, as we affectionately called him, Orange Guy With Good Muscles. It was the only model we had that had all three gluteal muscles visible. :-)

This is the same kid who is fake-napping in the other picture up there - he's standing by the garden at my grandma and grandpa's house, and I love that you can see my grandpa's old barn and the very old willow tree in the background. I just wish I'd had my lens hood on, which would have eliminated that flare. Boo.

My favorite picture of Scott. Isn't he cute? :-)

Zell Miller's Red State Reality Race

I'm listening to Sean Hannity, and he is somewhere-or-other with Zell Miller, who just said something that amused me. There's a guy in the audience wearing a shirt that says "A vote for Bush is a vote for Bin Laden" and Sen. Miller said that instead of the Iowa caucuses, they should start all Democratic presidential hopefuls somewhere in Georgia, wearing shirts like that one and caps that say "Country Music Sucks", in addition to a big Michael Moore button. Then let them hitch rides from there all the way to Des Moines (they can only be picked up by pickup trucks, of course) and whoever makes it safely is declared the Democratic nominee. He called it the Red State Reality Race.

Heh.

Zell Miller's a little crazy (and Will Forte does a hilarious Zell Miller, complete with the bulging forehead vein and the red, on-the-verge-of-exploding face) but I like him.

The spin drew her in

It seems that Paula Abdul spent some time in the HOTT zone.

Ex-'Idol' contestant claims Abdul affair

Corey Clark, a 24-year-old former contestant, is claiming that he had a "secret affair" with the 42-year-old judge from the hit show, according to the new issue of Globe magazine. Clarke reportedly is claiming that he had sex with Abdul in the guest room of her house, that she paid some of his expenses and promised to fund his career to the tune of $2 million, and that she made him vow to keep their relationship a secret. The allegations are reportedly from a book proposal that Clark has been shopping to publishers.

It must have been his refreshing upper register.

 

Also, Craggle is writing a BOOK? Too much hilarity, I can't stand it. Bwah. Bwah. Bwah. Bwah. BWAH.

Pope and circumstance

At A Small Victory, they're having a hilarious discussion of possible Pope names. Like Pope OMGWTFLOL!, Pope Duke Nukem, Pope Cliff Claven, Pope Onarope (BWAH), Pope Rocky VI, Pope Optimus Prime (obviously they don't watch Family Guy, because Optimus Prime is Jewish!), Pope Wrestlemania XVI, The Fresh Pope of Bel-Air, Pope Aratzi, Jiffy Pope, Pope-Up Video, Pope Me So Holy (Me Love You Long Time), Pope-ity Doo Dah, Winnie the Pope, Pope E. Longstockings, Pope Sidaisy, and Pope Diddy. They just can't seem to stop. I can only come up with LL Cool Pope and Pope Upthevolume - and I decided that the new pope could sell his name on eBay, which would probably be bought by that casino that buys all the weird stuff, so he'd be Pope GoldenCasino.com. It would be a great fundraiser.

There's also a funny post over there about jokes with realistic endings, stemming from a post at Something Awful (which is pretty profane, just so you know.) A couple of good ones:

What do you get when you cross a chicken with a centipede?
A media circus about the debate over the morals and ethics of genetic engineering.

What's worse then finding a worm in your apple?
The Holocaust.

How do you know when a Frenchman has been near your house?
You don't, really, unless you were there to see him or if one of your neighbors saw him. I wouldn't worry about it, really.

How do you confuse a blonde?
Paint yourself green and throw forks at her.

Scott used a joke like this way back when, when he was trying to be all charming and win me over. Ha. It went like this:

Him: Ask me if I'm a tree.
Me: Are you a tree?
Him: No.

So in conclusion, I'll combine the two topics and say: You can pick a pope, and you can pick your nose, but you shouldn't because you may transfer organisms to inanimate surfaces which may then be picked up by someone else, and this could be particularly problematic if you happen to be transiently colonized with the meningococcus, Neisseria meningitidis, especially if it is picked up by an immunocompromised individual.

Well, it looks like Sarah-NotYetErstwhileK has picked wedding colors:

most likely red, white, black. :-)

I wonder if they're trying to match IMAO? Because that would be kind of cool. Or, maybe she's just telling half of that joke that ends in "a newspaper".

In an unrelated story, my boss called me a mutant yesterday, and meant it as a compliment. I was like, "Thanks?" I hope this doesn't mean I have to have a flock of seagulls haircut like Wolverine.

Also, I'm turning comments back on, but I'm going to delete comments that berate me for calling some Clay Aiken fans crazy - I don't want to deal with a comment flame war. Regarding that, I do feel like Jack Nicholson with the whole, "you can't handle the truth" thing.

UPDATE 4:10PM - NOW comments are enabled. Whoops. I didn't mean to tell an outrageous lie before.

Here's the thing. I'm going to keep comments disabled for a few more days, because I don't want my blog hijacked with a bunch of people trying to convince me that every Clay fan is sane and/or I'm evil. The fact that I used to be an active part of the Clay Aiken fandom* doesn't change my opinion that several people at "The Clackhouse" have a pathological obsession with him. And I'd have that same opinion even if there hadn't been a little tiff between the non-venerating board and their intense board, about eighteen months ago, that I hadn't dwelled on for about seventeen and a half months. And I'd have that same opinion of posters on other Clay message boards, not just the one I mentioned, if someone emailed their particularly nutty posts to me or sent me an IM when people there were saying jaw-dropping things. (Which reminds me, I think there's a scary Photoshop of a 'shelf of hands' around here someplace. Maybe I'll talk about that one day.)

While I don't like to hurt people, I also have a problem internalizing my thoughts about people/things/ideas/situations that make me go, "Are you KIDDING me?" It may be a character flaw, but it also means that I'm not at all fake - if I act as if I like you, then it means that I do. I have a hard time putting up a front. (Unless I have to in order to avoid being disrespectful, of course.) That's the main reason I have a blog in the first place - when I found out what a blog was, I was like, "A place where I get to talk about stuff that bugs me? And like-minded people can interact with me? And I can make it all pretty and pink? Got to get me one of those!"

So, I'll post my thoughts on tonight's American Idol when I get a chance to watch it - I had a lot of stuff to do at the lab and I was busy tutoring micro students earlier in the day (I mean students taking microbiology, not pocket-sized students who are small and wee. Although those would be really fun to tutor, wouldn't they? I could put them on my notes as paperweights, or use them as bookmarks or doorstops or something.) And I want to enable comments because I like the interaction from my regular readers and the occasional scraggler who took a wrong turn at Albuquerque. I think it's best to give it a day or two though, considering I got more than seven times my normal traffic today (from irate people who weren't doing a very good job ignoring my pathetic, boring, and unfunny self.) Incidentally, being referred to as "not funny" doesn't mean much when it's coming from someone whose sense of humor has flatlined - it's like Ashton Kutcher insulting my intelligence, or Pauler Abdul calling me inarticulate.

If you're a Clay fan and your sanity is in check, then I wasn't talking about you. And if you've never read a post on a Clay Aiken message board (the message board on which you post, even) that made your jaw drop, then I'm not talking about anyone you "know". So don't be upset. And, if I bore you, then just don't read what I write. Or, you could go to your super-secret members-only area of your message board that I can't see, and talk about what a meanie I am and that I'm just jealous of your unbelieveable creativity. Because that's probably why I think some of you are certifiable. Or it could be that I'm jealous of the fact that you have 20 spare hours a day to devote to furthering Clay Aiken's career and analyzing his nose hair or whatever. If I think it's not normal to spend thousands of dollars to fly all over the country to see the same concert fifteen times, it must be because there's something wrong with ME. It reminds me of that episode that Britney Spears had a couple of weeks back, when the media reported Mr. Britney's escapades in Vegas, and she said the reporters were just mad because they were overweight with misbehaving kids. Okay.

*Thankfully, I was snapped back to reality after four months, before I robbed important people and things in my life of any more time. I deeply regret the time I wasted and stupid things that I said while I was caught up in the group mentality, but I did meet several great people that I still keep in touch with. And I'm glad for that.

With loony Clay Aiken fans, who needs cable?

I was flipping through the new issue of TV Guide this morning, and ran across an article about Clay Aiken's trip to tsunami-ravaged Banda Aceh and Meulaboh, Indonesia, as a UNICEF Goodwill Ambassador. (TV Guide wouldn't let me link, so I found a related article on BlogCritics.) The TV Guide article is cute, just a few brief comments that Clay wrote regarding the trip and the kids that he worked with, but it reminded me of a blog post that I began a month ago about his Indonesia trip and the posts of his group of fans who have quite clearly gone over to The Bad Place. Although I don't have time to follow the fandom anymore, I keep in touch with some of the people that I met in the early days of Clay's career, and one of them usually alerts me when he has done something that will make the crazy fans weep for pages and pages. Like visiting kids that were devastated by a natural disaster, for example.

So, reading posts by people who put the "-atical" in "fan" entertains me, and makes me feel very sane. I also like to blog about them when they're crazy. Like here. And here. And here, kind of. Keep in mind that these people are not 12, they're adult women who appear normal on the surface. And the Saga of Loonage continueth ...

As I skimmed their posts while Clay was in Indonesia, I saw a lot of different mood swings. They spent pages worrying about him "seeing what water can do" since he's already afraid of it. And they're worried about his immunizations and antimalarial drugs and clean water and such. Ack. I barely have enough time to worry about, you know, people I actually know.

Then they started singing Can You Feel the Love Tonight, and they were all weeping. When they finished with that, they just started saying nonsensical stuff:

The most beautiful man ever ! Look at that face and see his heart.

Oh my goodness, his HEART is on his FACE? That's a serious anatomical defect.

Even when the music is silent, I love the song that he sings.

Okay.

Yesterday, his smile changed thousands of lives ... today his laughter is healing millions of hearts. Tomorrow is a sunrise of love waiting to be.

I'll just be over here, waiting for her to finish that sentence ...

Oh, thank you, thank you, ClackHouse!  It WASN'T a dream after all!  It WAS Clay!  I did SO see him... and hear him!  Good Lord and Taylor!  SINGING!... and SMILING!  He was singing!  THEY were singing!  CNN ! ... the video clips from which the stills were taken... TIVO! We need TIVO!  TIVO!  CNN!  Sentences?  You want whole sentences?

All I remember hearing through my sleeping fog was "An American Idol blah, blah, blah.." I SWEAR that's what they said. AN AMERICAN IDOL.... I was so sure a promo was coming up ... a snippet about Mario ... or Nikko saying his prayers. but NO! It was what I was DREAMING about! Fate made me open my eyes! [Thank you, Fate!] IT waz CLAY! Clay and those beautiful children! I only wish I could play it all back for you from my mind! ....upload it from my memory!

Upload it from my MEMORY?

Now I can hit that snooze alarm with a smile on my face -- secure in the knowledge that there will be clack!. And so proud... so very, very, VERY proud. *sigh* I do love that man so. He makes my heart smile!

They have all morphed into Pauler. They're probably completely understanding her this season when she's telling people that they're "married to the risk". And they have all these creepy links to pictures from Indonesia that say things like, "THIS.IS.LOVE." THAT.IS.CRAZY.

Isn't it ironic that he's allergic to 'nuts'?

Edited to add - poor Eric Olsen should brace himself - he's written an article about Clay's appearance on Dr. Phil's show about bullies, and if he has said anything that seems to be at all derogatory, defensive Clay fans will swarm to his aid. And they may weep, too. They like to do that. Maybe he should go hide out at his summer home ...

Edited again to add that as I already said in a previous post (already linked above) I did used to be a part of the fandom - you know, back in 2003 when he was on American Idol and for a few months thereafter. And I still like his voice. And as I also said in that post, "There are people on that board that are sane. But they're few and far between, and they tend to get lost among the crazy." So I'm not saying that ALL members of that board are crazy. But some DEFINITELY have gone way overboard in their Clay obsession, and that's true regardless of the fact that I used to be part of the fandom and a member of that board. I still think some posters there seriously need help, and I don't mind saying it where it can be read. I've turned off comments temporarily because I expect an influx of traffic.

UPDATE: And an influx of traffic I did get. My eeeeevilness continues here, and that's all I have to say about that.

Some things just don't need to exist. Like a Butt Bra, for example. Somehow I just don't think the resulting cleavage would be quite as well-received. Ack.

HT: Popgadget, in a post by Mia that rightfully blames JLo for this madness.

Werther's, Moose Tracks and Heroin, oh my!

My dad is a very habitual person. Between the habits and the napping, at times I think there's a cat in his lineage somewhere. A couple of years ago he picked up a Werther's Originals candy fixation - when we went somewhere, he had to start the journey with a certain number of Werther's. Eventually he abandoned that for something else - Moose Tracks ice cream from Hardee's. (Which, incidentally, makes me furious, because he's as thin as a rail, despite the Moose Tracks and the fact that he eats at least 20% of some sort of cake every single night, in addition to frequent pizza and french fries. He's an excellent example of my observation that if you're a regular runner (even if it's just a mile and a half or so) you can eat what you want.)

Anyway, the other day I bought several packages of Creme Savers to send to Scott (he's a big fan of those) including a flavor I hadn't seen before, butter toffee. (As I've mentioned, I'm a sucker for anything "New! Nuevo!" If you peruse my shower (and might I add, don't) you'll see that most of my beauty supply arsenal proclaims, "New! Nuevo!") As I was getting the Creme Savers ready to mail, I had to try one of the butter toffees (which are good, by the way) and I offered one to Dad, who was sitting nearby.

He said, "Oh no, I don't want to get back on that."

I had to roll back my memory to make sure I hadn't said, "Here Dad, would you like to try this syringe of heroin?" Or, "Whew, I just can't finish this eight ball. Want to polish it off?" When I was confident I hadn't inadvertently turned into a drug pusher, I decided that Dad just didn't want to venture back into the dark abyss of butter toffee addiction. It's all the same for him, I guess, and he realizes it - which is why he's never touched alcohol. Thank goodness.

Oh, and speaking of Moose Tracks ice cream - I found a sugar-free version made with Splenda, by Pierre's, that is actually really good.

The one of those things that isn't like the other

Okay, here's where I expound on those ten statements:

1. I once cut my hair in my sleep.
   FALSE. I am a serial hair-cutter, but I do it when I'm awake, contrary to popular belief. So even if the length of my bangs makes me look like I'm seven, I promise I did it when I was conscious. Maybe I shouldn't have said that out loud.


2. I've never been in a bar.
   This is true. And according to one commenter, this means I suck. Oh well. I was just never interested in the whole bar/drinking thing - I'd rather go to a movie or out to dinner or something. Plus, I hate the smell of cigarette smoke.


3. I've dented a car door with my rear end.
   True. Right after leaving home one morning, I discovered that the passenger door was open, so I got out and gave it a little nudge with my rear, and ended up with a crater in the door. Whoops. And that was in high school too, before my posterior threatened to join forces with my sausage arms to become the Adipose Monster that Ate West Virginia and the Surrounding Tri-State Area. (I know, I've used that before, but it amuses me.) That sounds like a fabulous title for a B-movie to be narrated by the MST3K crew, doesn't it?


4. I was president of my senior class in high school.
   True. (Sorry Mia, I have to keep some level of mystery about me, you know?) This meant basically nothing, except that I'll plan reunions and I also spoke at graduation:
   
   Notice that my mortarboard wouldn't fit on my giant head, so I had to attach it to my occipital lobe area with about 107 bobby pins.


5. I'm flat-footed.
   True. Apparently I already said this once, which Joe helpfully pointed out in comments - oops. Scott disputed this one - he called into question the degree of flatness of my foot, and demanded to know who told me it was flat, what experimental method they used, and if the findings were reported in a peer-reviewed publication. Just kidding about half of that.


6. I had a drawing published in Highlights magazine when I was six.
   True:
   
   Unfortunately, my artistic ability peaked when I was six. Oh well.


7. I backed my car out of the garage without opening the door twice in one weekend.
   True. Scott and I had had a scary (for me, not him) organic chemistry II exam on Thursday evening, and then we had some physics homework due on Friday morning. So after the exam, I stopped at his house to do the homework, and didn't get home until really late. The next morning, the part of my brain that knows you're supposed to hit the little button BEFORE you put the vehicle in reverse was still asleep. And then I did the same thing on Sunday morning when I was leaving for church. My dad has done this several times himself, though, so nobody got mad at me. Heh.


8. The first R-rated movie I saw in the theater was Terminator 2.
   This is true. And songstress, I was underage - nice logic, though. :-) I don't think the violence scarred me for life, which is more than I can say for my ex-dermatologist. Maybe I'll spin that yarn sometime.


9. My only B in high school was in geometry.
   True. And I'm still mad about it. Just looking at a triangle makes me all irate, and so does the word "corollary".


10. I'm allergic to tree nuts.
    True, and haaaaaaaa! I totally fooled those of you that I met through the fandom of a certain ex-American Idol contestant, didn't I? I didn't even mean to do that, but after a couple of you guessed #10, I realized what was going on. Sorry about that.

Unfortunately, nobody guessed correctly, so I get to keep all of my cool stuff. Yay!

In conclusion, this post did send me some traffic from Jennifer, though, which was fun.

A drunk email that is actually funny

I lied earlier about going back to bed. I'm doing some blog surfing this morning (which should be obvious, heh) and I just found something that is making me giggle like a ridiculous hyena. Except I'm trying not to giggle lest I wake up this cat here, so I may explode momentarily.

Normally I hate drunk email/posts because I think they're stupid - it's like the people who brag about how drunk they were last night or whatever. I never did understand that - I mean, anyone can be a certain amount of drunk, right? It takes more effort to NOT be drunk, so I think that's a state that's more worthy of broadcasting. And drunk posts/emails? "Haha, look at me!!!! I did somthing that any1 over 21 can do legally at anyy time, and now Im' speling stuff rong - haaaaaaaaa!" I just don't get it.

UNLESS.

If a drunk email is like a virtual, misspelled, rambling version of that Soul Ballads infomercial with Peabo Bryson and SomebodyElse, then BY ALL MEANS, it should be distributed far and wide. See?

From Jill at Always Almost Summer:

Let the following email (verbatim, with only the author's full name removed) be a warning to you all. To the ladies, never have a nasty breakup with someone who isn't completely checked in. To the men, try to limit electronic correspondence to your more sober times. And for all of you, set boundaries for your drunk neighbors on what you will let them send from your computer at 2am.

thank you for the email. I think that you are the best person in the world. Thank you very, very, very much for check my voice mail. By the way I have a law suit against you for invasion of privacy. And I think that you are wonderful. And thank you for not finding the pearl necklace because it was on the front porchase. And by the way her name was Sue not Suzzy. I love you and am pround of being your boyfriend. I can not wait until we get marrie and have 12th little j--- l----'s becuase we both know that we wont alot of kids. Dont worry I got your ring in a machine egg. That how much I love you. You have my heart and I love you too. I hope that you come and bring your family to my graduation pary. My mom and dad cant wait to see you. I told them both that you were pergant. And that we were getting married in two months. So I hope you come, or its going to look like you got an aborsion. So you better show up. I love you and cant wait until you come to the party, and if your not going to show please call my mother who loves you, and tell her that your not going to have my baby. Thank you and cant wait until we get married. "Dont worry I can t wait untill I make love to you." thats a quote from, "Boys to Men." I just want to give you that. I cant wait to see you and my parent are so PROUD.

P.S. "You know when I get that sexual feelin I get that sexual feel, And I want to sex you up" and that is MARVIN GAYE.

And I love you and cant wait to tell your parent how I feel.

Because its just the two of us, and we can make it if we try, time just the two of us.

And you know what we are on my own. These quotes are sorry beautiful becuase didnt you know this world is a crazy place, becuase I am going to save the best for last.

Dont worry I will always be your endless love

It's just all so very touching. And am I the only person who forgot that Kenny G was in Color Me Badd?? That totally escaped my brain. Goodnight.

UPDATE: I'm linking to basil's link roundup for today, because I still can't stop giggling at this drunken version of Barry Peabo McRuben, and I want to share. (And, I want traffic. I'll admit it.)

I say 'y'all' and stuff.

I have no idea what the basis for this little linguistics test is, nor do I care. Stolen from Blue Goldfish:

American English Dialect Test

Whoop-dee-doo. Now that I have successfully broken my dialect into percentages, I think I'll go back to bed - I have a sore throat and achiness which rudely woke me up at an evil hour. Evil looks like 6:30AM only when you don't go to sleep until 3:00AM. But first, I'll send that link to Scott - he loves percentages.

Oh, and I'll post which one of these is false on Saturday. I know you're all on the edge of your seats, but at least TRY to get something productive done today, okay? :-)

A likely story

A couple nights ago, Scott sent me an email to tell me that he was still working at school and he'd be calling me later than usual. Isn't he considerate? :-) Anyway, his explanation cracked me up - it was another of those "I'm dating Bill Nye the Science Guy, except without the activism" moments:

I want to optimize the parameters on the mass spec for Xe before I leave and the signal is low (which means more scans to get the signal to noise at a good place to analyze the data).

Well, if it means more scans to get the signal to noise at a good place to analyze the data ...

If I had a nickel for every time I've heard that one.

Holy Crap

All right! Here's a classic Family Guy scene, from "Holy Crap". That's the episode where Peter's dad, Francis, retires and stays with Peter's family for awhile. Francis is a staunch Catholic who has never been happy about Peter's marriage to a non-Catholic:

Francis doesn't like being retired and he starts working with Peter at the Happy-Go-Lucky toy factory, where he quickly moves to a supervisor position, names Jesus Employee of the Month, and works everyone to death. In the meantime, the pope's tour plans a stop in Quahog:

Peter decides to kidnap the pope, take him to see Francis at Happy-Go-Lucky, and get him to tell Francis that Peter isn't a failure. To the Popemobile!

Peter [to Happy-Go-Lucky employees]:  Hey guys, remember when we brought in that stripper for Lombardi's birthday and it turned out to be his son? Well, I think this is gonna top it.

[in walks the pope, and everybody starts chattering all excited-like]

Francis:  Slothful sinners! You're here to work, not stand around with your ... holy mother! It's the holy father!

Francis [kneels]:  I am not worthy.

JPII:  Arise, my son, you are indeed worthy, for you have raised a fine son. His zest for life is an affirmation of God's great love within us all.

Peter:  Wow, and that's from the freakin' pope! So I guess you were wrong about me, huh Dad?
Francis:  I was wrong, all right.
Peter [to band waiting to play that 'la laaaa' sound when something sentimental happens]:  Stand by, boys ...
Francis:  I was wrong about YOU. You've gone soft on me, holy father! Even a tambourine-shaking Baptist could tell this boy's no good.

JPII:  Are you calling ME a liar?
Peter:  Whoa, easy pontiff.
JPII:  Because I'll excommunicate your sorry ...

Peter:  Okay, time out.
JPII:  I have never met such an infuriating man! You must have the patience of a saint!

Peter:  Well, he's my dad. I just want him to love me.
Francis:  Peter, how could you say such a thing? I love you with all me heart.

[band starts playing]

Peter:  You do?
Francis:  Of course. I just don't like you. I don't like anything about you!

[band stops]

Peter:  No, keep playing, you guys - I think this is as good as it's gonna get. Dad, to be honest, I don't like you either. Geez, that's a terrible thing to say. I guess I am going to hell, huh?
JPII:  Peter, the good Lord said "Honor thy father." He never said anything about liking him.
Peter:  Well, in that case, I'm going to eat meat on Fridays, golf on Sundays, laugh at Jewish comedians, and yes, sleep with my Protestant wife. But I won't enjoy it. And she hates it.
Francis:  Well, fine, I'll be on me way. Take back your job. And give your old man a hug.
Peter:  I love ya, Dad.
Francis:  I know you do, son.
Peter:  What are you going to do now?
Francis:  I don't know. I guess the good Lord doesn't have much use for an old man like me.

[Pause, while Peter grins at the pope]

JPII:  Well - I suppose I could use another pair of hands on my tour.
Peter:  You'd give Dad a job? Even knowing what a jerk he is?
JPII:  I have to. As you said Peter, "I'm-a the freakin' pope!"

I hope nobody finds this irreverent. I believe that the Holy Spirit dwells within me, as in all who have accepted Christ's sacrifice for their sins, and He enables me to interpret Scripture and allow it to guide my life. So, while I appreciate John Paul II for being a constant voice for life and for objective moral truth, and against communism - I can't scripturally justify elevating him above any other person. I find no Biblical reference to the pope (except in one area that I won't mention because I don't want a flame war in my comments) - but despite doctrinal differences, I'll use Paul's words from Philippians 1:18:

What then? notwithstanding, every way, whether in pretence, or in truth, Christ is preached; and I therein do rejoice, yea, and will rejoice.

John Paul II preached Christ, in which I rejoice.

American Idol Performance Clips

UPDATE (June 21, 2005)
Files are back. :-)

UPDATE (May 19, 2005)
I removed the files, because I'm running out of bandwidth. :-) I'll put them back up around the beginning of June, when my bandwidth starts anew. :-) I could afford to host more files if y'all would refrain from ignoring my shameless begging section in yonder sidebar. :-)

All right, you have to give the people what they want, right? (Unless the people want money, or Scott, or, like Jesse McCartney, my "beautiful soul". Does that creep anyone else out?) Here's performance video clips from American Idol on April 12 (birth years), sans one thuggish contestant that I have decided MUST have ties to the Mafia or he'd be gone.

And again, depending on how the bandwidth goes, I probably won't be able to leave these mpegs up very long - I can't afford a hosting package with more bandwidth/disk space because my sad little tip jar in yonder sidebar has always been woefully empty. And remember, if you're just using www.amazon.com as your Amazon URL, you can use mine instead - it's much more interesting. Just trust me.

Okay, clips.

1. Bo Bice - Free Bird by Lynryd Skynyrd
   performance clip - ~17MB, right-click and "save as", please
2. Anwar Robinson - I'll Never Love This Way Again by Dionne Warwick
3. Nadia Turner - When I Dream by Crystal Gayle
4. Constantine Maroulis - Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen
   performance clip - ~19MB, right-click and "save as", please
5. Anthony Federov - Every Time You Go Away by Paul Young
   performance clip - ~20MB, right-click and "save as", please
6. Carrie Underwood - Love is a Battlefield by Pat Benetar
   performance clip ~19MB, right-click and "save as", please
7. Vonzell Solomon - Let's Hear it for the Boy by Deniece Williams
   performance clip ~18MB, right-click and "save as", please

If all of you Constantine and Carrie googlers are about to crash my blog, I'll pull the files. :-) In the meantime, enjoy!

Bad Boy Colin Farrell - he poses, he swims, he broods!

The Snarkywood girls are cracking me up with a photo analysis of Bad Boy Colin Farrell. Although I wasn't quite sure who they were talking about at first, because I didn't recognize his name without the obligatory "Bad Boy" prefix. Then I saw this picture and I was like, "It's Jim Carrey!"

So I was very confused. But Amy's comment ...

Amy: "SNAP THE BLOODY PICTURE ALREADY. CHLORINE STINGS ME EYES!"

... cleared it right up.

Jimmy Fallon may cause babbling.

Jimmy Fallon is a guest on Conan O'Brien tonight. I think my head may explode, because I adore both of them. I adore Jimmy Fallon so much that I let him by with a ridiculous amount of crap, like Taxi, which I enjoyed solely because he was in it (and to a lesser extent, Queen Latifah - I let her get away with stupid movies as well).

Ah, Jimmy. He and Darryl Hammond were the sole goodness of SNL after Fred Armisen debuted his crapiness. Boooooo, Fred Armisen, Destroyer of SNL. RARRRRRR! In contrast, when Fred Armisen was a guest on Conan, he thought that by talking about monkeys, it would automatically make him funny. It did not.

Awww, look at Jimmy all fidgety. He's so cute. It's a good thing that Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle wasn't Harold and Kumar and Jimmy Go to White Castle, because then I would be forced to like it, and it was just so very bad. See, Neil Patrick Harris (a.k.a. Doogie, a.k.a. my past future husband) is not supposed to say those words EVER. Those words killed a little child in me.

I am going to like Fever Pitch even though Drew Barrymore tends to annoy me, I can already tell. Unless Fred Armisen has a cameo. Booooo, Fred Armisen. Also, boooooooo American Idol voters!! Who is voting for [thuggish person who was NOT voted off but should have been and shall not be named lest I accidentally spoiler someone] and why do you hate me? Why?

Jenny from the ... Capitol?

Jennifer Lopez, who has shown that she is more than able to make commitments and stick to them, has shown interest in politics. That's funny all by itself, but her role model choice is hilarious. Read on:

Jennfer Gets Political

She's already a singing and acting superstar and now Jennifer Lopez has revealed she is considering a move into politics.

The Latino beauty added that she'll use activist pal Jane Fonda as an advisor when she gets serious.

J.Lo said: "Jane's been politically involved her whole life but I never have. As you get older and you become more mature you become more aware of the world around you. I remember asking Jane if I wanted to do something what would you say. She told me: 'There's a time to do things and a way to do things. When you're ready call me and I'll tell you what's right and what's wrong, so you won't get yourself in any trouble.' She was cool about that."

(emphasis mine)

Bwahahahaha. Heh. Heheheheheh. Hee. Ha.

HT: The Superficial, where you can also read about Britney Spears being pregnant (ask me how much I care) and how The Superficial author's new goal is to find Kevin Federline and punch him in the face. Heh.

One of these things is not like the other ...

I'm stealing this from SarahK, who stole it from Jennifer. I just think this is a fun little game, provided people actually offer guesses (except for people who know me well - Scott, you can't play. You either, Dad!)

One of these statements is false - guess which one.

1. I once cut my hair in my sleep.
2. I've never been in a bar.
3. I've dented a car door with my rear end.
4. I was president of my senior class in high school.
5. I'm flat-footed.
6. I had a drawing published in Highlights magazine when I was six.
7. I backed my car out of the garage without opening the door twice in one weekend.
8. The first R-rated movie I saw in the theater was Terminator 2.
9. My only B in high school was in geometry.
10. I'm allergic to tree nuts.

All right, have at it! If you're the only person to get it right, I may send you something cool. If I'm in the right mood.

Hey! I wanted my influenza virus WITHOUT cheese!

Yikes. This was a big oops:

Scientists Scramble to Destroy Flu Strain

Scientists around the world were scrambling to prevent the possibility of a pandemic after a nearly 50-year-old killer influenza virus was sent to thousands of labs, a decision that one researcher described as "unwise."

Nearly 5,000 labs in 18 countries, mostly in the United States, were urged by the World Health Organization to destroy samples of the dangerous virus because of the slight risk it could trigger a global outbreak. The labs received the virus from a U.S. company that supplies kits used for quality control tests.

"The risk is low and we've taken appropriate action," said Dr. Nancy Cox, chief of the influenza branch at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention in Atlanta.

The risk probably IS low, but sheesh. People need to pay attention to what they're doing. At least it wasn't the 1918 strain! And I hope the accidentally distributed virus isn't destroyed in the same way that all but two vials of the smallpox virus was "destroyed".

Oh well, this will be something for the media to pounce on, in case they're bored reporting about Michael Jackson's general weirdness and the popapalooza. And I'm sure this will somehow be Bush's fault.

You can keep an eye on influenza activity patterns here.

Hat tip: Medical Buzz

American Idol top 8 - Birth Year Songs

I recorded this episode on my capture card, and I can upload mpegs if anybody wants them. Just email me or leave a comment - I don't want to waste time uploading them if it's not going to help anybody. :-) I have to give the people what they want, and - not give the people what they don't want. You know.

Ryan always looks like someone has scrawled illegibly or made drunken drawings all over his clothes. Why is that? And when he said that Nikko Smith was sadly home in St. Louis, I'll bet Nikko made some sort of obscene gesture at the television. So Ryan says that watching American Idol without voting is like starting a conversation with Randy Jackson? You mean, something that people do who are busy from 9:00 - 11:00 P.M. on Tuesdays? Oh, he meant "pointless". I got it.

I HATE this "theme guessing" segment. By showing the baby pictures as hints, I was afraid they were singing lullabies, which was last week, if I'm not mistaken. I must say, I think this is a interesting theme.

1. Nadia Turner - When I Dream by Crystal Gayle
   She looks great, I wish I could pull off an outfit like that. And I liked her performance, but I think it's because I know and like the song already (my parents were big country music fans, and so I probably like more traditional country than most people my age do.) I like Simon's "musical wallpaper" analogy, and I wish the audience would shut the heck up. Sheesh. If Nadia is right and dreams make reality, then I will start cleaning my contact lenses with mustard and George W. Bush will be in my medical school class. (I really should stop falling asleep to Fox News.)
2. Bo Bice - Free Bird by Lynryd Skynyrd
   Okay, I was impressed by his voice for, I think, the first time ever. But that is an awesome song, of course, which may have helped. And I still hate his soul patch. Also, I agree with Simon 97% of the time, but - he tells Bo that he should sing "well known songs" after he finishes Free Bird? Huh? What's more well known than Free Bird?
3. Anwar Robinson - I'll Never Love This Way Again by Dionne Warwick
   This guy has an identical twin and it is a fluffy little kitty. Or as someone at TWoP called him - "Anwar 'Cut Me and I Bleed Puppies' Robinson". He seems like the nicest guy on earth. His performance was typical Anwar - snoozy at the beginning, and ended really good. And then, he said something nonsensical about deeper and better and reaching and better and deeper and better. Or something.

You know, I still don't know which one is Hall and which is Oates.

4. Anthony Federov - Every Time You Go Away by Paul Young
   In that pre-performance clip, he was Clay Aiken crashed into Charles Grigsby. And awwww, look - he loves his brother. Awww. But if he means that this song describes his feelings about his brother - that's a little creepy. Anyway, I like this song a lot, and I think he did a really good job, except for his weird bouncy dancing. He should stop that. During the judges critiques, when Simon said that last week was a low point for Anthony, and Randy interrupted with, "What was the word you used?" Paula's all, "'Low point', stupid!" when he actually meant Simon's descriptive WORD (not words) last week, which was either 'hideous' or 'horrible'. I don't remember which. But I do know that "low point" is two words, so at least I'm ahead of Paula.
5. Vonzell Solomon - Let's Hear it for the Boy by Deniece Williams
   She is too cute! And she appears to be wearing a disco ball, but that's okay. She's had several good weeks in a row - I think she may be surpassing my love of any of the other girls. Wait, let me think about that for a second. Yes, I think she may be. Heh, I like how Randy says it's "crazy" that she's had another great week. He's all, "We thought you were going to suck! What did we know?" Heh. In other news, I don't think she looks like a man anymore.
6. Scott Savol - She's Gone by Hall & Oates
   I cannot stand this guy. I really can't figure out why, either. I think it may be because he reminds me of the guy who annoys me more than anyone else that I know personally. (No, it's not you.) Or maybe it's because he looks like he'd beat up my grandmother in a back alley, steal her money, and totally not be sorry about it. Thankfully, he sounded like deep-fried crap (wait, that would make it better - more like broiled crap) on the verses, and then I think he may have put the final nail in his coffin with that Guarini-like attitude in response to Simon, in which he also managed to insult everybody watching who didn't try out for American Idol. Hurrah! Let's hope so. Also, Paula is waaaaaaay overreacting, IMO.

The Pamela Anderson "Stacked" sitcom is a bad dream, right? It has to be.

7. Carrie Underwood - Love is a Battlefield by Pat Benetar
   I watched the Love is a Battlefield video recently (it's in the extras of the 13 Going On 30 DVD) and oh my goodness, it's the cheesiest thing. Anyway, Carrie. She's going to be safe, of course, but I don't think this was her best week - she sounded mostly good, but I think Anthony has been teaching her how to dance, and she doesn't pull off that "rocker" thing very well. I still like her, though. And I like her jeans a lot, although I couldn't wear the shirt due to my sausage arms. Bleh.

Someone please make that Amityville Horror preview go away immediately. Because I have to sleep sometime, you know.

8. Constantine Maroulis - Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen
   Wow, that was unexpectedly entertaining. And he must have been skeeving out the camera guys during all of the previous weeks' inappropriate staring, because they did a bunch of fast camera-angle switches. That was good, because it limited the exposure time that he could visually give us all STIs. Ick. I still hate his butt-chin, and I can't watch him, but I think his vocals are getting better. And Paula must have not heard the phrase, "if everything is highlighted, then nothing is highlighted." Because if everybody is the best, and the one to beat, then nobody is.

Does this mean I have to stop ordering in Tagalog at drive-thrus?

Too. Many. Possible. Jokes!

W.Va. Makes English Its Official Language

The language amendment was quietly inserted into a bill addressing the number of members that cities can appoint to boards of parks and recreation. Among mundane details about record-keeping, the amendment adds the provision that "English shall be the official language of the State of West Virginia."

I guess I'll have to be rude to telemarkets in something other than freaky-deaky Dutch, then. And can I still answer the phone in Pig Latin? Or make Sunday morning prayer requests in ebonics? I need someone to clarify the implications of this.

Here I am!

It appears that I've fallen off the face of the earth. But I am, in fact, still on the face of the earth - I was just on a different part of the earth's face, visiting Scott for the weekend. A summary of events:

• He flicked the end of my nose really, really hard. He didn't mean to, but he sure got a kick out of it. After he finished hooting and wheezing with laughter, he managed to explain, "My depth perception was off!" Ouch, though.
• I had Duel on loan from Netflix (Netflix!), which was Steven Spielberg's directorial debut, and I can see why it made people notice him - there was some cool camera work. When I pointed out one particular instance that I thought was cool [after Dennis Weaver/Pseudo-Family Ties Dad thinks he's managed to wait out the scary, unbalanced truck driver, and he's driving and suddenly starts swerving, then the camera zooms out and you can see his car between the waiting truck's tires (if that makes any sense)] Scott proceeded to make fun of me. He started saying things like, "Look! See how you can see his face through the windshield? That's COOL." Pffft on him. Hmph. He's 100% scienteeste and 0% arteeste. Anyway, it was worth watching, I thought. Except there were spiders. Ewwww, spiders.
• We also watched Beauty Shop, with Queen Latifah. Scott picked it. Just kidding. :-) I was entertained, Scott bemoaned the alleged lack of plot and of stuff blowing up. He did stay awake, though, and laughed approximately three times. Random observations: Alicia Silverstone needs to put down the fake southern accent and back away sloooowly. Holy crap, that was Rudy/Kesiha Knight Pulliam??? I am OLD. And also, I find it terribly hard to like Mena Suvari.
• We went out to eat, and the waitress came by to tell us that she'd be right with us (they were crazy busy) and as she was walking off, she said, "I love your hair!" or something like that. I assumed she was talking to me and not Scott, and I said, "Aww, that's nice - but kind of odd" because it's not a compliment I get often. And because I don't get compliments often, period. Scott helpfully offered, "She probably just said that because she was late attending to us." Nice. I said, "You know, you don't have to offer a solution to EVERY posed question." He's such a guy.
• On Saturday morning (okay, afternoon) within seconds of trying to rouse me from my peaceful slumber on the futon, he said, "Your eyelids are all twitchy." (I had closed my eyes in a futile attempt to ignore him.) So I said, "Please do not analyze my face at close range, at least until I've been awake for more than 90 seconds." I don't encourage that, usually.
• Did I mention that Scott will be coming home within a couple of months? Eeeeeeeeeee. I hope he still likes the day-to-day me.

Places that molasses should not be made, ever.

My little church is turning 100 this year - it was founded and built in 1905, and we're having a 100-year celebration service in May. The secretary of the church and some other ladies decided that we should gather pictures from as far back as we can, and have them printed and bound in a book if anyone wants one. Of course, this turned into a giant project, and all of the computer work (scanning, layout, captioning, etc.) is my job. Although Mom is helping with the scanning.

So tonight I stopped at the secretary's house to pick up some more pictures she's gathered, and she was reading the caption information written on the back of one of the really old pictures to me, which went something like this:

[Somebody] and [SomebodyElse] making molasses in [SomebodyOrOther's] bottom.

Well, I could NOT handle that. I probably giggled for 20 minutes. And I caused Mom to giggle, and the secretary (bless her heart) said, "What's funny? Molasses?" We just kept giggling, and finally she said, "Whaaaaaattt??? It's a piece of land!"

I think I'd rather have no 'lasses than molasses made in someone's bottom. Thanks anyway.

Pope Idol?

Slobokan announces a totally fair and modern way to choose the new pope - Pope Idol!

Now THAT is funny. I can see bored judges telling the pope hopefuls (popefuls?) that "everything about that was horrible" and "I could see that at any wedding reception in America".

And that reminds me - I was going to do a scene with screencaps from Holy Crap, the pope-filled episode of Family Guy. Later tonight.

Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.

Psalm 30:5 (KJV)

This afternoon, I answered the lab phone to find a student on the other end asking for me (which is unusual because in general, I'm nobody important around there.) The student works with the professor at my university who was applying for a grant which included funding for a post-doc, and acceptance of the grant proposal would mean that Scott would be able to come back home and fill that position.

The student was calling to see if I was at the lab, because the professor wanted to tell me that he got it.

He got the funding. Scott can come home when he finishes his Ph.D. in a couple of months and do a post-doc at our university. For three years, pending his satisfactory performance, and Scott doesn't do anything that isn't satisfactory, ever. Home. Scott can come home. He can come home.

I was so happy after that phone call - I spent the rest of the afternoon/evening having intermittent periods of ridiculous giggling interrupted by an occasional flood of tears. Oh, and some jumping up and down.

This is an answer to an innumerable amount of prayers - to the point that I wouldn't have been surprised by a booming voice from the heavens: "The FUNDING, if it's My Will - I GOT IT. Can we please talk about something else?"

Since I first heard about the grant from the professor, I've had a lot of talks with God about it, and Scott's and my future. Of course He's well aware of how hard it has been for me for Scott to be gone for the past 3 1/2 years, and how much I've cried, and how many times I just wanted to give him a hug without driving for hours. And how when he's home for a weekend, and we're on the couch just watching TV, I feel like the earth is spinning the right direction. And how other times, something just feels off. And how I have his apartment phone number stored in my cell phone as his work number, because I refuse to think of that place as his home. And how it was so unlikely that Scott would find anything in this area that would allow him to use his Ph.D.

While the grant question was hanging in the air, I have clung to these:

For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the LORD, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end (Jeremiah 29:11).

And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose (Romans 8:28).

Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you, and ordained you, that ye should go and bring forth fruit, and that your fruit should remain: that whatsoever ye shall ask of the Father in my name, he may give it you (John 15:16).

I am so thankful, I can barely put a sentence together. When I heard about the grant in the first place, the post-doc position and the research it will involve was almost tailor-made for Scott and his current research, and the opportunity came at exactly the right time - I knew it wasn't luck or a coincidence. I was always at peace about where Scott would end up after finishing his degree - I just had that hard-to-explain stillness that only Christ can give [And He arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, be still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm (Mark 4:39)], and I knew that everything would be all right. But it's more than all right - Scott will be coming home. Home. Home, home, home. And he can help me with biochemistry in the fall when I start medical school. Woo.

My lonely days are over / And life is like a song - At Last, Etta James

Could I pick a topic, any topic? Apparently not. Hence, American Idol Broadway-style and some other stuff.

I have a few things I want to talk about at once. (And by "at once" I mean "at the same time", not "immediately", because meaning the latter would make me feel like a British au pair, and as a rule, I try not to feel like one of those.) I think I'll just smoosh it all together, and we'll see how it goes.

To kick off this Festival of Smoosh (Including some American Idol Chatter) - some gratuitous pictures. (I like saying "gratuitous". That's why I like for Nikko Smith to talk about his dad (the ex-professional baseball player, you know) sometime between Ryan Seacrest's cheerful "Niiiikko Smith!" and when Nikko throws his hat at the audience. Because then I can call the dad-talk "gratuitous".)

That was Easter, and you can see Scott's festive decorations. So he's being a goof, and I'm being generally shiny. Oh, and this is also an example of what happens when I'm not hypervigilant about making sure that I am in a plane behind Scott when we're posing, because otherwise I end up in front of him, and the optical illusion makes my head look even more gargantuan than usual. I also cut off my right shoulder in Photoshop because otherwise, I was afraid this post would cause me to be recruited by Green Bay.

And speaking of skulls, Mom and I were watching American Idolzzzzzzzz Sing Show Tunezzzzzzzzzzz tonight, and she said, "Does Paula have a skull ring?" I said, "Probably, that would explain a lot." But she meant a skull-shaped ring on her finger - duh.

Speaking of Paula, someone should tell her not to interrupt people constantly. V. rude. Particularly if all she has to say is something like, "Awwwwwwww, pfffffffft", "oh, whaaaaaaatevvvvvvvv ...", "no, no, no, nooooooooo", or "Nooooo. Exceptional. Extraordinary. EXTRAORDINARY!" In a continuing plotline from last week, she still doesn't know what an opinion is. Also, she still claps like a drunken baby seal, but that's nothing new. It's like she's regressing - I'll watch every week just to see what social behavior and/or skill she unlearns next. "And on American Idol, the most shocking twist EVER! This time - it involves a SPHINCTER." [Cut to a close-up of the horrified face of one of the contestants] Ack.

Anwar is terribly pretty. But I didn't understand his outfit. It was kind of Prince-ish, but without the high heels - I don't know, I need more information. Carrie sounded good, but with her floufed-out hair, she's starting to morph into a Pretty Pony Princess like Caaaaarmen. And that is NEVER good.

Also morphing into a Pretty Pony Princess - Anthony. I happen to speak Simonglish, and when he calls something "horrible" he means "gay". For example, IIRC, this received a "everything about that was horrible":

Although, having a theme like "show tunes" and then criticizing a performance that is too gay - that doesn't make much sense. It's like if I said, "Don't think about a giraffe!" See? It's an unreasonable request because the request itself forces you to violate it.

At least Constantine gave me some fair warning, with whatever smarmy adjective he used to describe My Funny Valentine - I don't remember what it was, but it signaled me in just enough time to get into my biohazard suit. So this week I still felt violated, but at least I didn't feel contaminated. (Constaminated?) I can probably credit my post-Constantine performance, 3-phase chemical sterilization regimen for that. I wish he'd take his chinbutt, his creepy stare, and his excess sebum, and go back to being a thespian or whatever it is that they call people who were on Elimidate once.

Incidentally, this isn't one of my normal AI posts with song titles and artists and the occasional performance clip. That is because I immediately forgot the names of the songs after the gratuitous (yay!) last note that says, "Look at me! I have talent! I can sing! Look! See this big note here? I belong here! It's not a fluke!" because they bored me, and recording the episode on my capture card put my computer into hiberation mode.

One piece of information in the previous paragraph is an outrageous lie.

Bo looked like he was wearing someone's living room from the 1970s. And hark, a disturbing conversation with my mom, which interested me more than The Postman Never Rings Bice:

Mom: He tends to put his hands places.
Me: Errrr - okay. Except, what?
Mom: You know, like central, front-ish places. Just briefly. Have you noticed?
Me: I'd really rather not.
Mom: Hee hee hee.

And during the critique, when Paula made that nonsensical "you can cross your toes, you can cross your legs" comment:

Mom: Legs! That's like what I was saying about ...
Me: The end.

Poor Mom, she pronounces Bo's name wrong, too. She calls him "Booooooooooooo." I guess she hasn't noticed the soul patch or the way he carries the entire microphone stand around while he sings, because those things make him certifiable ROCK, baby! Or something.

Vonzell and Nadia were both good, Nikko was also there, and Scott's face still makes me mad. I hope next week's theme isn't another hippopotamus anesthetic.

I realize that the fact that I don't weep when I hear show tunes makes me disgustingly mainstream, but I did like Sideways, which makes me superior to everyone else. At least I THINK that's what I'm supposed to learn from this Sideways thread at IMDb. If you're past 25 and liked Sideways but not Napoleon Dynamite, then you surpass 79% of the population intellectually. If you bought the Garden State DVD and then saw Sideways in the theater, then you're better than nearly half of Americans over the age of 30. If all copies of Napoleon Dynamite were rented when you looked for it, and you saw Garden State in a theater housing less than half of its capacity, then you are allowed to call someone stupid to their face three times daily. If you loved Napoleon Dynamite but you threw Sour Patch Kids at the screen during Garden State and fell asleep during Sideways (except for the naked man running through an ostrich farm, obviously) then you are either a) 12, b) possibly infested with Rickettsia tsutsugamushi, or c) most likely a grandmother.

I think.

Seriously, though, that thread is funny - full of pseudo-intellectuals, like the people who sit in Borders with their dark-rimmed glasses, their $5 coffee, and their Kerry-Edwards 2004 lanyard, and pretend to read books in the Philosophy section.

I had more to say, but I'm running on three hours of sleep and I'm tired.

Haloscan commenting and trackback have been added to this blog.

All righty! Let's see how Haloscan commenting works. And look, now I have trackback too. If I get another flood of idiocy, I should be able to ban that "commenter". I'm all about discussion, but if you're just going to flame me, waste my time and be generally annoying and rude, I'd rather just ban you than have a comment war that goes nowhere. That's reasonable, right?

I have to temporarily turn off comments, because someone ran across my blog through a Google search, and threw a little fit in the comments of this post, posting the same string of name-calling about 30 times. I guess they get mad when you talk about Toni Woods, the teacher/wrestling coach/alleged student lov-ah. Oh wait, I think he was actually mad about my observation that Senator Byrd, while he has done good things for West Virginia, is getting more than a little kooky and should probably go ahead and hit the road. He sent me a very articulate email, offering me a - wait, let me look - a "good Southern West Virginian Kick in the A**". He then provided a link to his blog, where it's apparently not so easy to attack "our honorable Senator Byrd". Well, of course it's not so easy! This is MY blog! This is the absolute easiest place for me to attack stuff.

I do agree with a couple of his "insults", though - apparently, I'm a "Yankee, spoiled, stupid, Republican b*tch". Well, 3/5 is pretty good, I guess.

Anyway, I'll turn comments back on when I get finished working and I have time to set up a ban on this guy, who really needs something better to do.

Evil Glenn, where are you? Come to my rescue and do something evil! :-)

Someone's fifteen minutes are up ...

I'm not sure why I hadn't heard about this until yesterday - maybe it had something to do with trying to survive the weekend without expelling my intestines or setting off a land mine in my pancreas. Anyway, what I would have said had I heard about this right when it happened is: Heheheheheheh. Heh. Ha. Heeeeeeeee.

From The Smoking Gun:

American Idol's Violence Rap
According to police, 28-year-old Scott Savol, one of the remaining nine "Idol" contestants, was busted following a February 2001 confrontation with Michele Martin at the woman's Ohio home. A Shaker Heights Police Department report notes that the unmarried couple had decided to "split up their living arrangement," with Savol scheduled to move his belongings out of Martin's mother's home, where the duo lived with their three-week-old son Brandon. But when Savol and his brother arrived at Martin's home, an argument ensued, with Savol calling Martin "several vulgar names." He then grabbed the woman's hand and pulled an engagement ring off her finger and "stated he was also going to take their son," cops reported. When Savol "grabbed the baby," Martin "stopped him from taking the child by telling [Savol] that she was going to call 911." At that point, according to the police report, Savol shoved Martin, pulled a phone from her hand, and then threw it at Martin, striking her in the chest. "This caused the phone to break," the report notes. Savol and his brother then left the residence. When officers arrived at her home, Martin told them that Savol had "made verbal threats to her in the past by telling her to 'watch her back.'"

When I first saw the mug shot, I thought that perhaps Scott had beat up Corey Clark's sister. Or, possibly, Corey Clark himself. But it was just Mr. Savol's Babymomma, which isn't quite as interesting. I hope this means that I don't have to look at his one facial expression anymore. I wonder what they'll do? Bring Jessica back, maybe? I think that's the way it should have been anyway.

The Smoking Gun also includes a tidbit from Scott's Q & A on the official "Idol" website:

... Savol stated that his son's birth was the proudest moment of his life and that a personal goal was "to make sure my son doesn't have to struggle in life as I did." As for a "most embarrassing moment," Savol answered, "I don't have any."

He's probably hoping that by the time his son is old enough to have an irritating Babymomma, advances in technology will have produced a smaller phone for easier throwing. I mean, can you imagine having to heave something like this?

And of course that incident wasn't embarrassing - now, if he had thrown the phone and missed NotMrs. Savol, knocking over a lamp or a fake tree or something instead, that may have been a little embarrassing.

And finally, I can't post his mug shot because his face makes me mad. So I'll post dear departed Craggle instead, from the police report that ultimately deprived the world of his spinning, his sweat towel, and his refreshing upper register.

10 Reasons Evil Glenn May Wish to Sacrifice His Debbie Gibson Albums for 10 Minutes on the Phone With Me

Look! One of the Glenns over at It's a Pundit is talking about me again. I want to quote Julia Roberts and be all, "Don't talk about me like I'm not here!" but I'm afraid if I do that, I'll accidentally name my children Hazel and Phinneus (seriously, WHY?) Anyway, The Evil Glenn says:

I'd trade all my Debbie Gibson albums for ten minutes on the phone with Kimmy Ramblestrip. But don't tell the It'sAWife.

My first thought was, "Awwwwwww!" But then I began to wonder what he might want. So, since I have to drive 40 miles in the evening (unless I want to sleep at the lab) I decided I'd use that time for something productive tonight, and come up with a list of possibilites. In no particular order:

10 Reasons Evil Glenn May Wish to Sacrifice His Debbie Gibson Albums for 10 Minutes on the Phone With Me

1. To agree with my assessment that Senator Byrd could be Yoda's stunt double. Or vice-versa.
2. To see if it's possible for me to teach him to clog over the phone. (I mean clog as in dancing, not as in "up the plumbing". It's likely that he already knows how to do that. Also, if you want to see me clog in my giant, fluffy dress, that link is the one you need to click.)
3. To duet on I Wanna Be a Cowboy by Boys Don't Cry, or ...
4. ... to hear me sing In Da Club by Fitty Cent (the edited version, because what about the chirrun??) really loud. And I do rock that one, but no other human gets to hear it.
5. He has a microbiology test next week and needs serious help.
6. To motivate me to finish my thesis. (I'm going to finish it before I start medical school. No, really. I'm going to finish it when everyone LEAST EXPECTS IT.)
7. So he can finally let out two years' worth of pent-up squeeeeeeeeee-ing over Clay Aiken. (Warning - there's crazy in that there link.)
8. To make fun of my hick accent, and then say that he can't believe someone who sounds like me is smart enough to have people's lives in their hands someday.
9. To convince me that Bo Bice should indeed be MY American Idol.
10. To use "irregardless", "unthaw", "I gave 110%", "I could care less", "let's see if we can't do blahblahblah", and "Blah blahdeblah verb to you and I" in a sentence, just to watch me really flip out.

Ixnay on the Ieferkay Illingkay. K? A preventative post

Last night as I was watching The Simpsons, Arrested Development, The Simpsons, and The Sketch Show (which is mostly funny, actually, although you do have to endure Chloe / Mary Lynn Rajskub / Potato Face, sometimes wearing shorts in that length that is flattering on no one) I saw about 75 commercials for tonight's 24, which is supposed to have a twist that is just shocking, SHOCKING! Sometime around commercial #74, it finally hit me what the shocking, SHOCKING twist could be, and just let me say:

Dear TPTB at Fox,
Do not kill Kiefer. I mean it.
Love,
Kim

I really mean it. H - e - double-hockey-sticks hath no fury like a woman whose Kiefer hath been killed. If you must kill someone in order to be shocking, SHOCKING, please allow me to offer up Tony McCrookedFace as a sacrificial victim. And it would be good if you wouldn't maim Kiefer either. I mean, a one-handed or a one-footed Kiefer is better than no Kiefer at all, but I'd rather not have to endure the maiming. The season finale of Season 3 (link contains spoilers, obviously) physically hurt me, so I don't want to do that again unless absolutely necessary.

Seriously, they'd better not kill Kiefer.

I'm gonna be mad if they kill Kiefer.

Especially if they allow Tony "Look at Me, My Face Isn't Quite Symmetrical!" WhateverHisLastNameIs to live.

I'm not kidding.

And I just might cry too.

Pay no attention to the emu behind the curtain, or the one in between lanes 3 and 4

I think it's funny when odd animals show up in places that they would ordinarily not be, like in traffic.

Footloose emu struck on I-79

A footloose emu who was struck by a vehicle while it tried to cross the busy northbound lanes of Interstate 79 Friday morning was rescued by State Police and Marion County animal control officers.

Two vehicles were involved in a rear-end collision shortly before 9 a.m. as commuters slowed to look at the more than 4-foot-tall bird, authorities said.

"The State Police troopers had it up against a guardrail when we arrived," said Ben Smith, a dog warden for the Marion County Animal Control patrol.

Using a tie-down rope and a raincoat, Trooper E. Hudson of the Morgantown State Police detachment calmed the injured bird, said Smith and Deputy First Class Todd Cole of the Marion County Sheriff's Department.

The bird was apparently the victim of a hit-and-run driver, Smith said. He and Deputy Cole praised Trooper Hudson for getting the bird under control.

"He's an emu wrangler," Deputy Cole said of the resourceful trooper.

For those of you concerned about said emu: "'It had a flesh wound on one of its legs. It didn't have much fight in it, but you could tell it was shook up,' Smith said." It may be evil of me that I find this funny. Oh well. But you know what this will do? It will encourage people to take those hilarious deer-crossing sign jokes (How do the deer know to cross at the sign? Hardy har har) and extend them to emus. Emu, emu, emu. The word has lost all meaning now.

Oh, and the guy who wrote the article is Bill Byrd - probably no relation to the fossilized Senator Byrd. It's more likely that someone tried to change his name to Robert C. Byrd (because we love to name stuff Robert C. Byrd) and he resisted, finally settling on last name only.

My Kingdom for Some Tiramisu

Okay, so I forgot to do a Family Guy quote/scene yesterday. Sorry, I was busy trying to keep my pancreas from exploding. This is a scene from There's Something About Paulie (episode 2.16). Peter has his car "stolen" by the Mafia so he can get a new one, and in return, he has to take The Don's cousin, Big Fat Paulie, to the movies. Big Fat Paulie takes a liking to Peter and wants them to be buddies, but Lois doesn't like the idea of having someone affiliated with the mob hanging around the house. So Peter tells Big Fat Paulie that they can't be friends because of Lois, and inadvertently orders a hit on her. When Lois finds out, they go to The Don's daughter's wedding to have the hit called off, since he is obligated to grant one favor to everybody on that day. Peter screws it up, of course. And he also does a My Wife Is About to Get Whacked pose (below) every time he introduces Lois to someone at the wedding.



Mob Guy:  Number 34! Three-four!
Peter:  Right here!
The Don:  Peter, my good friend. How good of you to come and show your respect on this, the day of my daughter's wedding.



Peter:  Yeah, sorry I didn't bring a gift, but the stores were mobbed. I mean ... mobbed as in crowded, not mobbed as in you guys.
The Don:  Who is this enchanting woman?
Peter:  This is my wife, Lois. Ahhh!



Lois:  Your Honor, Sir, we've come to ask ...
Peter:  Let me handle this.
Lois:  Peter, I thought we were a team!
Peter:  Listen, your Don-ness, I got a little favor to ask you.
The Don:  Go ahead. As you know, I am obligated to grant one favor on this, the day of my daughter's wedding. While you ask me for this one AND ONLY favor, I will sit here and enjoy this very fine tiramisu.



Peter:  Awww! Can I have a piece?
Lois:  Peter!
The Don:  Granted. Next?
Peter:  Aw, crap.

I am NOT an addict.

Well, it appears that my "mean critter" that attacked my GI tract earlier in the week was actually my mean pancreas in disguise, because for the 2nd half of the week, it has been in there knocking around, threatening to burst through my back, my side, or possibly my mid-epigastric area. I have medicine to control this pain, but unfortunately, since I awoke this morning at 7:00AM and suffered for an hour before I finally took 3.25mg of pain medicine, and then decided at about 2:30PM to end the suffering temporarily with another dose, my mom has now decided that I am an addict. Oh yes, I must be. Because when I'm in pain, I don't scream and writhe and cry and complain - I just go about quietly, in pain, and every six hours or so, break a pain pill in half and take it so that I can do something productive for approximately 90 minutes.

At this point, I have to ask for the medicine, because it is hidden, which I will not do. I'll just hope that my pancreas doesn't successfully free itself from its visceral prison when I happen to be standing on the carpet. Because being in trouble for messing up the carpet would really be bad, on top of being dead and all.

On the plus side, I've spent this day in which I felt like doing nothing vertical finishing one of the books I'm reading, I Love Everybody (And Other Atrocious Lies) by Laurie Notaro. It made me laugh, a lot. Which was painful, but it was okay. Here's an excerpt, when she's talking about her neighbor who is a Cat Feeder:

Come stand at my window at 6 P.M. on any given night and you can see the whole show, the most extensive research project concerning crossbreeding and mammals the universe has ever hosted, and that includes aliens. At six is when my neighbor, the Feeder, saunters out to her front yard and pours the cheapest brand of cat food she could find that week into roughly twenty bowls scattered about her chain-link-fenced yard and slowly, you'll see the swarm begin. They come in from everywhere. They climb down from roofs, leap out of trees, crawl out from under cars, pop up out of manholes, they come. They come. And they feed, all forty to sixty of them, depending on the live-birth rate of that particular breeding season. If T.S. Eliot had lived in my house, Cats would have never existed; instead, there would now be a touring company of the musical I've Got the Sack, You Bring the Rock, and We'll Meet Down by the Creek.

Heh.

Oh, and speaking of heh, there's something humorous I just discovered. An Instapundit parody - It's a Pundit - at which I am referred to as Kimmy Ramblestrip, which I rather like. I'm even built into the permalink! In the permalink, I'm "kimmy_ramblestr", but whatever. I still think it's cute. And I want one of those Glenn Reynolds quotes for my blog, except I want it from Drunk Glenn or Evil Glenn or Glenda or Fake Glenn or one of the others. That's all.

Oh wait, it's not all - back to Laurie Notaro - I think she may overuse the word "feral", but I have decided it's forgivable. Now THAT is all.

Evil (April Fools' Day jokes, dictator barbecues)

My friend Katrina forwarded a very scary email to me today - it was from Fox, with the subject line "Family Guy Re-Cancelled!" I was ready to beat someone up (using my intimidating girly strength, or possibly only my words) because, as my profile in yonder sidebar says, I have appointed myself Unofficial Spokesman for Family Guy.

But in the message body was this image:

That's a relief.

Speaking of Family Guy, there are 30 days until Season 4 begins (wheee!) so I thought I would try to post a good Family Guy quote every day. I can't pick a favorite, but I'll start with one from E. Peterbus Unum (episode 2.13). Peter discovers that he can't build a swimming pool in his yard due to zoning laws. When he goes to City Hall to complain, he finds out that due to some weird oversight, his property is not part of Quahog or the United States. So he becomes his own independent nation of "Petoria". He's not getting any respect as a nation at the U.N. (I'm not sure why one would care about that, but whatever) and some of the representatives there suggest invading another country. So he invades his neighbor's swimming pool, and hosts an Evil Dictator Barbecue.

Peter:  Hey, Slobodon, you made it!
Slobodon Milosevic:  I didn't know what to bring, so I made coleslaw. It's made out of people! Ha ha, just kidding. Hey, is Muammar here yet?

Peter:  Yeah, he's over there with Saddam.

Saddam (laughing, to Muammar Qaddafi):   And then Jerry guessed that her name was "Mulva".
Muammar:  That show is so funny. It really reminds me of me and my friends. You know, the way we just hang out - before I kill them for worshipping the wrong god.
Saddam:  Yeah, and I love that Kramer guy - he comes in the room like this - [braying] - well, I can't do it, but you know.

And to Monica Lewinsky, I will and bequeath the following ...

My favorite newsmagazine, The Week, has a ton of interesting little snippets and is all you need to keep up on what's going on everywhere. My dad discovered it a year or so ago, and we adore it.

Anyway, there's a section in every issue called "It must be true ... I read it in the tabloids" and this week's issue mentions that Bill Clinton has amended his will to include Monica Lewinsky. (It was in The Globe, which is at least as credible as CBS News, right?)

Yes, apparently his friends say that his heart surgery caused him to take stock of his life, and he regrets that he helped Monica to become "a worldwide laughing stock." So, he's leaving her a small bronze amulet that someone gave to him while he was visiting the tsunami wreckage. I tried to find a link to the story online, but I can't.

I'm sure Monica is thrilled - all this time, she's probably been thinking, "Man, that whole ordeal really sucked. If only I had a small token - an amulet, perhaps - then all would be well." Or not.