Big do-ins like for humans

And such it is that we are all consenting adults in this house, and we have set upon a solution: the DVR. It came in the afternoon, and Henry, the installer, even left us an extra remote. We can all sit on the couch and hold a remote, captain my captain, even the cat. It is important to feel powerful. These remotes will no doubt stop other acts of bullying. This way I can watch America's Fattest Fatties and all the Top Model I can cram down my gullet without regurgitating, and Mr. H can watch Nerdistar Nerdlactica or whatever. Picture in a picture, bitch! Look, it's Santa Claus, and he's holding a Coke bottle with Santa Claus on it. It's turtles all the way down.

So the first thing I think I recorded was the Martha Stewart talk show, but maybe I just watched it when it was on. I have no idea. I fast-forwarded it and rewound it, and then I had to have a yogurt because I was hungry. That is a thing to do if you find yourself hungry. My tip is free from me to you. Martha made Larry King frost a cake, and he didn't know what a dollop was. Yeah, right! As if he never ate a dollop of lard right out of the jar. The man's had heart attacks, for chrissakes. Next week Martha is planning to have Kate Moss on to discuss garnishing a plate with powdered sugar.

I want to be on that Martha Stewart show so badly. I write them every day, telling them about whatever trumped up talent I can think of. I feel certain they would like to have me and all the fat kids on the show, and then I will trick the fat kids by making a cookie recipe with applesauce instead of pork fat, and they will cry, right on TV. And Martha will laugh, because I am sure she does not like fat kids any more than Anna Wintour does. She should have Anna on that same show, and they will practice sealing envelopes with only disapproving thoughts.

Posted 9:58 AM by Licketysplit

Have I been spending too much time on Crackster?

I am going to an event sponsored by my college alumni association. I can't believe I just typed that. I have the networking fever. They are going to be so disappointed when I show up in my bathrobe. But that's what all people wear to work, right? Right!

I am wearing socks and a giant t-shirt today. But gee, my hair looks terrific. My beloved stylist fixed it yesterday, and together we cursed local stylist to the four winds. OMG post pics. Who, me? Stop talking to yourself. Stop hitting yourself, stop hitting yourself.

Posted 2:17 PM by Licketysplit

Today in angry, fabricated letters

Dear Vomitola:

Didn't you swear you'd never post again? Why are you still here, annoying us all?

-Irritable Internets

Dear I.I.:

The ombudsman writes: The owner of this website is a filthy, pill-popping slattern. It is all we can do to see that she showers daily. Right now, she is in the corner playing with her toes. When she gets a notion to share, there is just no stopping her. We've tried.

-Ombudsman, Vomitola.com

Dear Vomitola:

have you really nothing better to do than write on the internet? Don't you know people are dying? Also, is the Miele washer really worth the money?

-Holier than YOU

Dear HTY:

The ombudsman writes: The Miele washer looks nice in the stainless finish. There is also a button that one may press which will open the door. One may find this convenient. Also, it purports to handle Heavy Soil, which is a must around here. As far as the ombudsman can discern, no one has died because of this particular brand of washer.

-Ombudsman, Vomitola.com

Posted 2:02 PM by Licketysplit

Indianpeopleloveus.com

This morning Mr. H and I attended an Indian birthday party. We made up fifty percent of the white people in attendance. People asked us "Is this your first Indian event?" No, we've got a few Hindu weddings and birthday parties under our belts, and no, they aren't any louder than Mr. H's family on a slow day.

The Other White People kept following us around, and it was really embarassing. Those damn honkies kept asking what the food was.

"What's this garbanzo bean thing?"
"It's chana masala," I said.
"What is this spice? It's soooo spicy. Is it curry?"
"No, it's chili powder and garam masala."
An Indian bystander: "Ooh, she knows what it is!" What can I say, we never met food we didn't like. Food of many lands, I salute you. You might as well be octopus eyes, chana masala. I'll eat the hell out of you anyway. Me eat everything. The worst food I ever had in my life came from the Cheesecake Factory. It was worse than that time I accidentally ate the moldy yogurt.

Internet, I am just wasting time waiting for the architect. Then we are off to the high seas! We will probably only eat White People Food for the rest of the weekend. Boring.

Posted 1:40 PM by Licketysplit

Blimey

Hey lipsmackers, I am on a spree. I wrote a really snotty email to Banana Republic the other day about their half-assed use of CSS in their redesign, and they wrote back personally and thanked me for finding something they hadn't tested. Dawww you guys! Hire me, and I will tell you how to fix it too. Until then, I remain a crank on the internet.

I have another nasty letter out to UrbanBaby.com for not replying with their daily newsletter ad rates for one of my clients. Oh, you feel left out? You want a nasty letter too? Consider this entire website that nasty letter.

The next poison missive from the desk of Oh No You Di'n't goes to: my hair stylist. Oh, sweet Boston stylist, I never should have left you. I am going back to you next week, if you will have me, for I just received the worst possible hair cut. I do not think I have had a hair cut this bad since my sainted mother strapped me into the swing set and stuck a bowl on my head. This one is close, in that it stops abruptly under my ears while continuing to drape down my back. Yet it blossoms forth in such a way that my head looks like a triangle screwed onto my shoulders. I am not sure how my now ex-stylist did this, because she barely removed any hair. I just shuddered and gaped, and she said "You're going to make me cry," and I said "Likewise!" I am not sure how these things happen, but they should not happen to me.

Oh, it's been like three weeks. I am OVER that hurricane! What hurricane? Exactly.

Posted 7:57 PM by Licketysplit

The new phonebooks are here! The new phonebooks are here!

It is a red letter day already here in sunny Vomitsville. After I got back from having the dealer fix the perma-locked car door, I decided it was high time I paid the car insurance this month. The things a mind does think. So I headed downstairs to mail it (I hope pressing a blank check to my forehead, thinking "car insurance," and dropping it in the outgoing box works; Zellweger usually handles these things for me, but she is on a zen retreat).

And lo, there on my doorstep was my powerbook, like some kind of bastard foundling. It was so nice of Apple to warn me they were shipping it back from Rancho Relaxo, and so nice of DHL to, you know, ring the doorbell or something, instead of leaving a several thousand dollar piece of equipment with a "signature required" sticker on it out in the open. No harm done, right, Pants? Pants? Are you there? I missed you so. Mommy did so much while you were gone. Mommy got some new pain pills, and mommy even thought about making dinner.

Yes, I did think about making dinner. I went so far as to add wasabi to the mashed potatoes someone else was cooking. This was grueling. I had to lie on the floor until things stopped spinning. The cat came by and considered eating my left eye, but then I moved and ruined everything. So now she sulks, and I sit on the highest chair in the house to avoid her.

Posted 9:24 AM by Licketysplit

Oh, internets, I can't stay mad at you!

I want to get on with my life, I rilly rilly do, but how can I when there is breaking Zellweger news? It's bad enough that Britney's heartburn and upset stomach turned out to be pregnancy. I think Preston is a great name for a baby. This name is shared by the chicken farmer who lived down the road from me during my childhood.

La Zell has split up with the man who brought us songs like "She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy." Now I will tell you something sappy: divorce really bums me out. I don't like to make fun of adults with good intentions who made decisions they now regret, unless they are a part of FEMA. I make terrible decisions all the time. Just ask me how!

In other news, did anyone catch that last issue of BusinessWeek? Woo fucking boy. The "Sleepless Nights" infographic is amazing.

I'm thinking for my next life, I will buy Videodiarrhea.com and just show an iSight movie a day of me doing something boring around the house. Watch me order Tamiflu online. Watch me practice huddling under my desk. Watch me flirt shamelessly with the DHL guy. This will expose the crushing pointlessness of blogs and modern life, and maybe make me some money if I take my top off every hour on the hour.

Posted 10:44 AM by Licketysplit

A watched fax never sends

My Powerbook is going to live in sunny Sacramento with a nice farm family who will give it plenty of room to run around for the next week or so. At least that's what I told it. Actually, they're going to do a Rosemary Kennedy number on it with a spoon. Oh, Pants, I am so sorry. I hope you still recognize me when we reunite. I have stored your consciousness in this hot nurse with the basket-weave hair don't.

The living room ceiling is now gushing water, to which the landlord replies "Huh, weird," although he did bring me some buckets. I would redouble my commitment to finishing leftover painkillers, except I have to wrangle underprivileged children tonight. I bet they will make fun of the huge zit I have on my chin.

I've fired both my therapist (for being obtuse: R U reading this, I know you up and Googled me) and my psych-pharm person (for having a pointy face that reminds me of a rat terrier, which is not the same thing as a Boston terrier), and I am deeply in debt due to stupid stuff-acquiring circumstances. Oh wait, housing and student loans and such are "good debt." So are "business expenses." Someone said to me the other day "I need stuff," and I thought "Honey, stuff will be the death of us all." Here I am lugging around sanctimonious guilt, and really I can't even do Entitled Fuck properly. It's amazing to exist in a world where some people have literally nothing but maybe a stray intestinal fluke, and other people judge potential mates by the quality of car ownership. Oh heyyyy, and there's a tax payment due tomorrow. Yeah, heyyyy, how about that.

Really, I'm fine. Just hell of cranky and talking about it on the internets, thinking maybe I'm making a statement. It's embarassing, I know. I am incapable of talking seriously about the joyous moments in life because they r 2 precious, so I'm left sounding insane and hypocritical. Therefore, this blog is over. Dreamhost has been trying to tell me that all week by crashing left and right, so let's make it official. It's been real. I'm OK, you're OK.

Posted 12:19 PM by Licketysplit

Punish me with disk failure and a plague of larvae

Meine Festplatte ist tot. Or something like that. I know not what I say. Really. I have taken up with some local Germans, and I have learned to ask their baby if his Trousers are stinky. It is all I can do to not ask people that same question in the checkout line, on the train, at Best Buy. Ja!

On Friday, I got a cold finger of fear down my spine, so I backed up my system, and then whaddya know, ker-flunk. Now, hulk not lose any data, and hulk always buy Apple Care, so no big deal. Except Apple no send for laptop until Wednesday, and then laptop stay in sunny Cupertino for another week. What? Hulk not have time for Wednesday! Hulk have to synergize. Hulk have to write in online journal and not balance checkbook due to dependence on online banking. This not happening to hulk!

So hulk go to Apple store and get Mac Mini and cute matching back-up drive for temporary use and future storage. Hulk mutter like Andy Rooney about how old Wallstreet powerbooks so much tougher. Why, hulk stand on, sit on, roll joint on, spill wine on.... For good measure, hulk get cinema display and CS2 upgrade. In for a penny, in for several thousand more dollars. The world ending anyway. Hulk draw line at getting new bag from Banana Republic. What is hulk, a monster? That bag made from animals!

And the larvae. You can't show a larva crawling in my cabinets in the first scene and not deliver a pay-off. OK, last week, Mr. H opened the cabinets to get some cereal, and there were moths and larvae all over the place. I want to blame the sack of bulgur wheat, but that would be profiling. We threw out all the food not in cans or jars and sprayed toxic chemicals all over the kitchen. At least Mr. H did, I slept through the whole briefly inconvenient ordeal.

Now that I think of it, between the larvae and the Festplatte, there was a trip to the hospital. Hulk literally made of teflon, like Dick Cheney. Try harder.

Posted 9:47 AM by Licketysplit

Area idiots meet, spontaneously form condo board

Dear, sweet, internets. Last night I met many of the people with whom I will share a haunted mill starting in October. At last I understand how the federal government could have abandoned all those people in the Gulf states. People are just plain stupid! They walk among us, holding down jobs and passing driver's license tests and going to the grocery store, where they will most certainly crash the express lane with a full cart. Later they will back their SUV into you in the parking lot.

They say things like "You'll have to check with the sales team on that one," or "I don't know what to do with these truckloads of bottled water." And people say things like "I did, and they told me the opposite of what you just told me" or "How about you park them and hand out the water." And then they say things like "My hands are tied, you're really going to have to check with the sales team/Condoleeza Rice." They also say "The documents have changed since you last saw them when you signed your purchase and sale agreements months ago, but you don't get to see them until your closing day, but at that time it won't matter because they will already be recorded with the state." And they want us to confirm John Roberts without a fight.

So some people stay behind to eat frosted brownies and look at the discounted window treatments being pimped, and others form an angry mob and stand outside, muttering "Oh God, what have we done? Can you believe these people?" But secretly we, the angry people, want discount window treatments too. Then we hate ourselves so much that we go have mojitos. And we all drive our own cars to get those mojitos. And we hate ourselves more, so we come home and lie on the floor. We feel better when we wake up the next day, but not much.

Posted 11:52 AM by Licketysplit

I could tell you why the ocean's near the shore

OK. It took me a good fifteen seconds to correctly retrieve the correct spelling of "shore" from the linguistic trash heap in my brain. "Sure." Nope. "Shower, that's got to be it." "Shure?" No. "Sore!" Closer. At least I finally got there before I had to Google it.

OK again. Now it's two days later than when I first started trying to write this post. I forgot what the hell I was going to talk about in the first place, but I'm sure it was snotty and self-righteous. I consumed a ton of narcotics yesterday, for legitimate reasons even, but that whole sure/shure/shore mess took place Stone-Coldstone Creamery Steve Austin sober. I blame the Shure Fine, a convenience establishment down the road. I also blame the drugs I did in college. And I blame George Bush, for leaving this child behind. I blame a lot of people for a lot of things, but most of all I blame myself.

My long weekend of rage concluded with a trip to the ER for an ovarian cyst, which is how I got the narcotics. Turns out you can be mad enough to actually explode. Also turns out the bigger the fuss one makes about grinning and bearing it, the more forthcoming they are with the goods. Those folks in New Orleans should have clearly played harder to get instead of waving white flags and chanting "Help." I told the nurse it was our second wedding anniversay, which it was, and she scuttled right back with apple juice and a giant syringe full of demerol. Guess where she stuck the syringe, just guess. According to Mr. H, the needle was "this long." I am going to try telling people it's our anniversary wherever I go. This might get me a free Bloomin' Onion or something. But what I'd really like is world peace!!!!!!

Posted 10:56 AM by Licketysplit

If you knew anything about physics

I am so mad, internets. I am mad at people in our goverment for claiming our current situation was not forseeable. Chertoff, you GOON. What, natural disasters that show up on radar need to wear bells around their necks? I am mad at the people who say "this shouldn't happen here, we aren't a third world country." This includes you, Andrew Sullivan. They are right that the hurricane aftermath shouldn't have escalated the way it did, but since when is it OK for widespread deprivation and turmoil to happen anywhere? The things going on in the Sudan are just fine, because hey, third world country. Those folks knew what they were in for when they elected exist in a third world country. Of all the lines of justification for why we should not be in this situation, "we're not a third world nation" is by far the most shameful.

I am mad that I don't have more money to give right now. I am mad at the people who say anyone who didn't evacuate does not deserve help. I am mad at the people who are yapping about not contributing to relief efforts because they are soooo offended by what Kanye West said. I am mad that people don't see all the opportunities to help to alleviate poverty in their own communities, and that it takes something this large and terrible to make people even consider helping another living soul. Hey, instead of burning the gas to drive your SUV from New England to New Orleans all by yourself, why not volunteer for the Red Cross here? They can send trained personnel to the gulf, and you can handle the less glamorous things like people getting displaced by fires. Howzabout that.

I am mad that I need to pick a countertop finish in my future house because it seems so trivial, yet heaven forfend I get stuck with "Mystique Dusk." I am mad at myself.

I am so mad that I spent the day cleaning and packing up clothing to take to Goodwill. I found bank statements from my college BayBank account, which then turned into Bank Boston, which turned into Fleet or Fleet Boston or whatever, which is now Bank of America. Which is going to be bought by Bank of the Galaxy. Anyway, I left Bank of whatever somewhere in the Bank Boston days, when I opened a US Trust account. Then that got bought by Citizens Bank, which has the stupidest new logo. I only stay with Citizens because I have enough money to not get charged a monthly fee, which is ironic, because wouldn't someone with less money be even less inclined to pay a fee? Oh, but how did I get here? How did we get here at all?

Yesterday, Mr. H and I drove down to the South Shore to participate in a tango contest. We did our best, but we were trounced by a one-year-old baby with a penciled-on moustache. We demanded a voting recount, but that went over about as well as it did in Ohio. What, we hate America. Of course we're going to ask. It's the supreme fucking court, stupid.

Anyhoo, I noticed a wind turbine along the highway, and I wondered why our highways don't have these things all along them. After all, it's not like they're going to ruin the view, and wildlife has already been neatly thwarted. So I started looking into this option, envisioning a future as a wind power magnate, clear of conscience yet still filthy stinking rich. I found this blurb about just such an idea, and then the comments made me mad. Is there anything that doesn't make me mad today? People arguing about physics = gold. Oh, thermodynamics. Where were you when I needed you? You could have helped me win the tango contest and stopped the cat from throwing up after eating all the cilantro.

Posted 5:30 PM by Licketysplit

And and and and

There is so much I want to say about our villainous administration, but instead I have temporarily quieted myself by filling out the matching donation form from Mr H's work and working on my WWLIWD? product line (bitch I already copyrighted it, don't even think about it). What, indeed, would Laura Ingalls Wilder do? Verily, when those around you are losing their scalps, you must keep yours. You have a blind sister to think about, and a couple of insane parents who keep moving you somewhere dangerous and trying to subvert nature. Laura would make poultices out of Hostess Cupcakes and cholera vaccines out of malt liquor (brace for the smooth taste).

Soon we will all be able to enjoy pioneer activities like defending one's homestead, making hardtack, and driving a buggy. I am having a hard time deciding on the slogan for my merch line. I figure "Laura Ingalls Wilder has a posse" will sell, but then again I like "Lunatic Fringe." Maybe a Laura vs. Nellie grudge match kind of motif would be nice. I am simple, stupid people. My post-apocalyptic skills are going to be sharpshooting and carnival game rigging. So much for knitting and making my own soap. Where we're going, we don't need soap. Our own goverment is consistently more frightening than any turrorist attack.

Find out more about how you can help and where the money goes. Be sure to see if your employer offers donations-in-kind.

Give.org BBB Wise Giving Alliance
JustGive.org
Charity Navigator
Rainbow World Fund

Posted 2:58 PM by Licketysplit

igotsuchnothing.com!!!!!!!!!

There is a repro jadeite mixing bowl on the floor of the living room because the ceiling periodically decides to leak iced tea. No one can discern the cause, not even the landlord. He did manage to set off the fire alarm during his discerning, so I guess that's something. While the alarm was going off, I retired to the deck, where I spotted a BOSTON TERRIER relieving himself in a manner most undignified. The relief targeted drunk upstairs Cheryl's car, so it was like I won twice.

Someone wants me to do some work, but this someone's logo is straight up Curlz MT regular. Don't do me lyke dat. Curlz MT, you are part of my pantheon of Terrible Fonts. I went through this uppity phase of turning down work that was not appropriate to my very sensitive nature, but now that our closing date is looming, and the current ceiling is leaking iced tea, I have decided I am less choosy. I choo-choo-choose to be a whore! Would you like to run any advertising that is an affront to the eye? Perhaps send an email campaign that I warn you is in direct violation of all standards of visual taste? Come over here, you big lug. Put the money on mommy's dresser.

What's that, you say I should just get one job, a job I go to every day? Noooooo. Have you seen how much gas costs? Besides, I like to complain, and one encounters the weirdest possible people by freelancing. Today I am awaiting a call from an unmedicated bipolar ad agency owner. I can tell where he is in the mood swing cycle by how many exclamation points go in the emails. Yesterday was a HELLO!!!!!!! kind of day. Doesn't he know about all the DEVASTATION in the world? I'll be sure to ask. But if I tip him too far in the other direction, he won't call me for two weeks!!!!!

Posted 9:13 AM by Licketysplit