7:35 PM |

If you do take any of those wallpapers that I posted yesterday, please email me and let me know. Thank you and now back to your regularly scheduled nonsense.

7:19 PM |

6:12 PM |

5:55 PM |

Britney Spears at her best. teehee.

5:31 PM |

Me: I'd like to speak to the manager please.
Man: Speaking.
Me: <insert five minute long rant here>
Man: <silent>
Me: Well I'd just like you to know that those kids you have working for you [at your carwash] got into my truck, took the CD out of the CD player, opened another CD, took that one out, put the first CD into that case...THE WRONG case...put the second CD in and moved to track #9. This is not acceptable. They also turned the air conditioning on full blast. My mats are completely messed up, and they forgot to vaccuum my truck. I pointed this out to the kid and they stopped drying my truck and took it to get vaccuumed. Now my truck is completely spotted and my mirrors and spotted and my windows are streaked and my truck is spotted and I WASTED EIGHT DOLLARS.
Man: Well we have 15 kids here and I'm glad that 15 even showed up for work today...
Me: Well you should pay more attention to who you hire...
Man: We get some crazy...well I don't want to say crazy...but we get some different kids in here and I can only watch them as good as I can watch them...
Me: You should pay more attention to who you hire...
Man: Well we won't get into that.
Me: FINE. It's still unacceptable for those kids to change my CD and turn on the air.
Man: Well it is hot outside today..
Me: They still shouldn't turn on my air contitioning to MAX and the fan on 4! An eskimo would get frostbite with that much ac!
Man: Well all I can do is offer you a free car wash.
Me: You can offer it but I am not taking it. I can't believe you treat customers like this. I've been coming there for almost two years. I'm a loyal...good customer that spends LOTS of money there...I get the mega wash [ed note: it's 20 bucks a pop] at least every couple of months, I get the full service wash [8 dollars] every couple of weeks...you are losing a customer over this. I just thought you should know.
Man: Well my name is Tom and if you come in and ask for me I'll be sure your truck gets done right.
Me: No thanks.

4:18 PM |

Handbasket Emporium
A tisket, a tasket
going to hell in a green and yellow basket

I love it. AND...Reesa is a fellow phone person! hooooohah!

2:51 PM |

2:33 PM |

12:52 PM |

Speaking of this weekend, I'm going to be home alone for an entire week alone. Me, my computer, my TV, my couch, and my cat. That's it. Oh, and the ghosts that inhabit the house too...so I guess I'm not going to be entirely alone.

11:09 AM |

I'm laying in bed this morning doing my usual 'hit the snooze alarm 100 times and snuggle up in my covers and pretend it's not really time to get up' routine when I peek at the clock and realize it's 9am (I'm working 11-8 today). I open my eyes and look up at the ceiling and my light and ceiling fan are both on. Mind you, I'd gotten up about a half hour before to go to the bathroom and it wasn't on then. This house is haunted.

8:59 AM |

12:12 AM |

11:02 PM |

It was hailing (is that how you even spell that?) about 3 minutes ago, now it's sunny. Can you say tornado weather?

8:15 PM |

4:16 PM |

2:41 PM |

I can't believe I'm actually happy that I paid 1.94 a gallon for gas. I never thought I'd see the day.

2:34 PM |

I read Andrea's Uber piece this morning. I totally identify and that's the triple truth, Ruth.

I, too, am afraid of the dark.

I get so afraid when I wake up in the middle of the night and have to go to the bathroom that most of the time I just try and hold it until the sun comes up. If I can't, I lay in bed and work myself up to actually getting up. I turn the light on in my room and creep to the door. I peek out into my living room (right off of the bedroom) and look for anything that could hurt me/scare me/slash me/maim me/make me cry. Good...nothing's there. I run to the light switch, frantically flip it on, and turn around to look into the room...double checking that nothing is there to hurt me. My heart is usually pounding by now due to the fact that I'm terrified as well as that I just went from a complete non-physical state to a run in about three minutes.

Up the stairs I creep, hitting each light switch with a fly-by flip on. When I finally get to the bathroom, I turn on both lights, take a deep breath and hold it, and leave the door wide open. I have to leave it open, you see, so that I can see if anyone or anything is coming to get me. Each creek makes my heart thump. Every swoosh makes me sweat. When I'm done, I flushandrunrunrun down the stairs, slapping each light switch as I pass. I run back to my bed and cover up from head to toe, hoping that no one followed me.

The first time I watched the movie Sixth Sense, I almost laughed when the kid woke up to go pee. I kept thinking, "That's me...that's ME!" as he ran through the house to the bathroom.

My family thinks it's really funny that I don't walk next to parked cars at night because there might be someone underneath it, waiting to grab my leg and slash my hamstring.

There's something I could defend myself with in each room of my house in case anyone ever came in and I needed to...uh...hurt them. I've made mental notes about what weighs the most, what has pointy edges, and what could be used to slap, stab, poke, or make noise.

Don't even get me started about what I do when I get home late at night and the house is dark.

2:16 PM |

1:46 PM |

Blasted Blogger should let me be logged into two blogs at once.

10:36 AM |

I wonder if I could get DSL or a cable modem in a mountain shack.

9:10 AM |

8:59 AM |

8:50 AM |

2:53 PM |

I've only been doing this whole weblogging thing for seven weeks now but I've seen the complete cycle that he's talking about. Frankly, it sucks.

I got into this after I left my favorite far too frequented message board. I thought...Hmmm...this is interesting...I just get to talk about ME ME ME and sometimes people will come look?! And I can visit other people's sites that mostly have really cool designs and art and they sometimes even have cool things to say?!?! Kick ass!

I've since come to realize that no matter where you go, people are all the same. There's always a drama queen. There's always a smart ass. There's always an egomaniac (or six) and there's always a whiner.

People take things too seriously or not seriously enough. They fight, fuss, nitpick, bitch, and cry. They leave and come back and then leave again because they really didn't want to leave in the first place, they just wanted some attention. There are people that make you laugh but seem to offend everyone else and you wonder to yourself how anyone could not find this funny as hell as you know it was meant to make people laugh. There are always victims. There are always heros. There are always always always liars.

No matter where you go, people are all the same. The older I get, the more I realize just how true that statement is.

2:42 PM |

2:22 PM |

"I guess he's [Ted Nugent] right -- I'm a feminist and am indeed fat and don't get it often enough. Then again, "it" isn't usually worth the trouble, particularly given the inverse ratio of trouble to size."

Goes for me too.

11:57 AM |

11:40 AM |

Zuba needs this.

I'm sorry but this is just scary. I know the WWF is all about the marketing...but there's a line one mustn't cross.

11:26 AM |

But thanks for the compliment. MWAH.

11:05 AM |

10:53 AM |

10:45 AM |

9:58 AM |

She is right, though, when she says that "happy lives make for bad art"...just ask K. She'll tell you that we came to that conclusion a long time ago.

9:33 AM |

You're also right that it ended shitty. I didn't know what else to say, though, and couldn't stand just sitting there prolonging my sting. I just had to go and so I did. I will admit that I cried...but I didn't cry because I was hurt so much as I cried because I knew I'd miss you. I knew all along the situation. It was always in front of me like a wall I couldn't look over or around...but there was a window so I could see you. If that even makes any sense and isn't too poetic and sappy. It's not about sappy, though. It's just about laughing.

8:56 AM |

And for the record, too, I like you and your blog. It's all good.

Again, you're right. My site(s) have given me a great artistic outlet...be it through writing, graphics, layout, colors, or poetry. I do it to feed that little demon inside of me that's wearing a beret and carrying a notepad and a paintbrush. I don't feed him enough and he tends to get restless.

8:43 AM |

Also in the Detroit vein...a local radio station is hosting a cheap imitation of Survivor. Ten people in a Winnibego for five days. They don't have anything except water, tuna from a can, and the clothes on their backs. this is the webcam. It's rather amusing. If I'd have known about it earlier (I don't listen to that radio station), I'd have won a spot so Andrea could start her Rocky-like Survivor training.

4:23 PM |

I don't know what it is about you that makes me miss you, but you should bottle it and sell that shit...you'd be rich.

4:10 PM |

So so so much. You can bet I'll be buying the author's book.

3:06 PM |

12:20 PM |

This is turning out to be "Stupid Referral of the Day".

11:04 AM |

I hate my job.

10:49 AM |

10:29 AM |

If I have enough artistic sense and good taste to take an image that I find somewhere and change it (by using a few filters...ahem) and mold it to fit what my brain has invisioned...then in my book, it's art .

If I spit on the sidewalk and step on it, leaving a bit of dog shit from the bottom of my shoe and I think it looks pretty and I take a picture of it for postarity...it's art. I think it's beautiful. I think it means something.

You have no right to tell people what IS art and what ISN'T art. State your opinion...fine. Tell people what you think...fine. DO YOUR OWN ART...FINE...but do not trivialize and demean other people and their perceptions of art and what is beautiful.

9:32 AM |

I don't give a damn.

9:14 AM |

And called mean.

10:37 PM |

2:57 PM |

You are:
58% slutty
which technically makes you a slut.
The worldwide average is only 45%.

Based on the 237,835 test takers so far:
you're sluttier than 78% of the world.
you're cleaner than 21% of the world.

It lies mom...HONEST!

2:29 PM |

Veggie+fucking

2:09 PM |

the idiot that searched for "solid+boobs" on yahoo.

2:02 PM |

1:51 PM |

I'm kind of sad but I also feel strangely liberated.

12:57 PM |

12:17 PM |

10:36 AM |

first i was hurt
then i was confused
then i was angry
then spiteful
now i just refuse

10:24 AM |

I didn't say anything when she left the first time. I understood where she was coming from, I guess...having sort of been through it myself. A day later she came back and said things were going to be 'different' etc. etc. etc.

Give. me. a. break.

Now she leaves again? And all drama queen-like. She obviously had to look up those quotes somewhere...I doubt she knew them by heart. She couldn't just make a blank white page or even take the whole thing down all together and just make people get a 404? She had to be all melodramatic and quote Jack Kerouac and Winnie the Pooh, for crying out loud.

It's like when you were a kid...and the neighbor kid always pulled the "if you don't play by my rules I'm taking my ball and LEAVING"...when she didn't really want to leave...she just wanted you to say, "no no please don't go...we'll play by your rules...really we will..don't go!"

Take your ball, Yana. Go home. Pout.

8:52 AM |

In other news, I feel like my thighs are big enough to take over the world.

8:35 AM |

6:49 PM |