Ta ra ra boom-dee-ay!
Friday, Jan. 20, 2006 at 8:05 a.m.
Here are some diaries you should read:
pissymystic, redsilk3825, ska-t, requiel, and burninmyfire.
Why? Because. They�re good reads, and for all different reasons. And also because for whatever reason, they added me to their favorite diaries and they should get a shout-out for that. Thank you!
Today is Friday, Yippee! Tonight is Bowling, Yippee! Tonight pizza and Blizzards � will be consumed as part of the casa Valkyrie Friday ritual. See, the Hubster and I have a long-standing blowing competition. Whoever has the lowest scratch series buys Blizzards �. And lately, I�ve been the buyer of the got-dammed Blizzards � and I am tired of being the one to buy the got-dammed Blizzards �, especially after last week when I lost by 7 got-dammed pins.
Crapola, I say! Foo to that!
Yes, I did take my Prozac this morning but it hasn�t seemed to kick in yet. I might be still under the spell of the dream I was having before the dog started licking my foot. I was in the hospital for my surgery, but I was able to �check in� to my room before the surgery, and the room was a sumptuous Hollywood-mansion style room that must have been close to 1200 square feet, with hardwood floors, a wet bar, and a huge lavish curvy couch that was covered in navy jacquard satin. In one corner was the hospital bed, which was a full-sized bed sheeted in 400 thread-count Egyptian cotton. In another corner were many small aquaria filled with exotic fish. There was a pastel multi-colored ray that was also a marsupial, and it had gotten its pouch caught on a piece of driftwood. I reached to free it, but it freed itself. In another tank was a small octopus that was translucent and reminiscent of a jellyfish. There was also a small alligator with a hole in its face near the jawline. I wandered into the bathroom, which was also sumptuous, with small black and white tiles and brass fixtures with a shower table in the corner that resembled the coroner�s tables they always show on CSI. I was supposed to be in a sociology class before my surgery, but I was skipping it to stay in my room as much as possible. Then the dog started licking my foot.
So does anyone want to take a gander at interpreting that one? Heh.
Okay, then, interpret this:
DANGER! BREAKDANCE ZONE! I guess. I remember an old Bloom County cartoon (and thanks to smedindy, I�m thinking a lot about Bloom County) wherein Binkley was breakdancing, and his father was on the phone to MTV asking what the hell breakdancing was. Off-panel, there was a crash, and then Dad screamed into the phone, �Well, now he�s (&(**&!! BROKEN!�
Now, I love me some rummage sales, but I�d be concerned about this one:
I mean, what is the nature of the coffin? It looks like it�s in good shape so I wouldn�t suspect it was used, except maybe as a floor model, then why the hell do these people have it? Is it refurbished and reconditioned, like the tools at Big Lots? Or did Grandpa get sucked into a turbine so there was really no need for a coffin? So many questions . . .
Like what the hell good is this??
Really, the sign should just say you�re now currently fucked so kiss yer ass goodbye. Just like I�d say �goodbye� to this town at the earliest opportunity:
So I�m gettin� while the gettin�s good, kids. Have a good weekend!