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Perma Penguin
code 69bj
03/17/2006 = 02:57 PM


So I was surfing Blog Explosion and won two mystery bonus points. You have to enter a four-character code to prove you're a person and not a surfbot.

My code was "69BJ".

I therefore declare today a Confetti Sort of Day.


I took today and tomorrow as vacation days, just to kind of try to recuperate and not be assy on company time. Also to devote myself to such brazen wantonry as .:gasp:. going to the post office, supermarket shopping whilst it's still light out, and possibly (sweet lowered above) tweezing my eyebrows.

Someone call the Laziness Brigade, quick.


Ever want to jump off something?

Not Suzuki Grand Vitara-style. James Blunt-style.

James Blunt reminds me of young Bee Gees and that song has a sweet sentiment, though it's a bit of a downer.

The video, though?

I don't consider myself a depressed sort of individual, but dayam, if I were any younger, more impressionable, or less aware of how much control I have over my own destiny, I'd have had to talk myself off the ledge.

Jeez, James, own some responsibility for the angst surrounding us, please. I agree there is plenty here already — but must you pander so blatantly to it?


Mostly I don't wish I had children. I know about myself that, as much as I love kids, I don't have the energy or patience to be a good parent.

But then I read about how la Trance managed to convince her son that his grandmother has a tattoo of him on her butt, and I'm almost tempted to get knocked up for the sole purpose of torturing my own child with the same brain-shrapnel.

Not to mention how badly such an accusation would scandalize the Mom.

On the other hand, with my luck, I'd wind up with the child that is on the hating end of this tirade which, since I don't have children, was very possibly the most entertaining thing I've read all week.


If you need a plate spinner, fire eater, juggler, balloon sculptor, or gigolo (kidding — I don't think he's available for that kind of party), hire Andy. He said if he could get a gig, he'd buy me something shiny.

Okay, he didn't say that. But I bet he would.

Okay, he probably wouldn't, 'cos he's married and I'm married. But he'd think shiny thoughts at me, and that's good enough for me.

So get him a gig.


New season of Anthony Bourdain's show starts on the 27th.

Tony's like secondhand smoke — annoying to nonsmokers or preachy-type reformed smokers, but an ally to smokers and a welcome gulp of vicarious rebellion to the rest of us who only quit to be healthier and not because we stopped liking cigarettes.

Besides, watching No Reservations is the closest I'm ever going to come to eating rotting fish. I'd like to think of myself as an adventurous eater but, no, there ain't enough tartar sauce in the world.


Look. Now you, too, can walk silly.

Monty Python's Silly Walks Generator

Thanks, Thoroughly Modern Mel and Saturn Cat, both of whom realized immediately upon seeing this application that, if I didn't already have it, I should.


drinking: ice water
watching: Food Network
reading: wicked by gregory macguire



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