oh my god, it's mostly done. for real this time. open for business. couch shopping to follow.

this aggression wll not stand!!! i do not turn on the tv at 8am to watch anything but mst3k! and when they oust that for clive barker's lord of the danc - i mean illusions, all hell must break loose!!! dammit!!!

anywho, i got this comment yesterday and i wanna post it here so those of you who don't read comments see it:

****************
Happy post-Thanksgiving Day, Steph.

So. This musing ran through my mind today: When I go to NYC to interview, I am going to try my darndest (well, sort of) to attend a taping of the Daily Show. If I actually have the time and the means to do so, then I will try to bring back a little something for you (a small vial of Jon Stewart's spittle?).

No promises, though, given that I don't even know if I will even be able to go to a taping!
Submitted by: Maria [email] [web]
Friday, 11.28.2003 @ 11:24 PM
****************

maria, isn't his spit enough to clone him? and i know it would just be a baby him, but that's why i'm working on the human-aging-machine. once we have a perfectly cloned jon stewart baby, we can train the human-aging laser on him and POW! full grown jon stewart! we can maybe even make him just a tad younger than he is now!

so that's it! all i want for christmas is a vial of jon stewart's spit! and some highly trained scientists willing to work pro bono for the cloning cause!

(i'd also accept a vial of conan obrien spit, just in case those tickets are more readily available!)

and best of luck to you in your interviews, maria!!

okay, so there is no funny crazy terrible stories of thanksgiving shenanigans. it was actually quite dull. wheeee.

but you know what's great about being home today? and turning on tv while i was getting ready to go to the laundromat?

i caught a random outkast appearance on the wayne brady show. and i swear to god, watching their performances is like a form of pokemon. you gotta catch em all because they're all so freakin different and completely entertaining.

and now i bid you goodday sir - shawshank redemption's on and my couch is calling me.

i take it all back - all i want for christmas is a trip for two to dollywood.

happy eat a dead bird day, i'll probably have some great stories for you on the subject later...

oh yeah one more thing. god i love jon stewart.

*sigh*

p.s. also to kat - i read that book when it came out a few years ago, get with the times! ahahahahaahhhahhahah, just kidding. but it really was a good read.

wait wait wait, kat, if you're gonna buy me those with no hesitation maybe you can pick these things up for me, too?

- five gold dubloons
- a guitar, amp, pick, lessons, and a band that will play covers of shitty local commercials with me
- a pony
- a copy of the new offspring cd signed by the band
- a new gig in soCal so we can hang some weekend
- a new computer that's a little (no a LOT) faster than a spontaneously restarting pentium one
- a new pair of steeltoe docs
- a taxidermied smurf
- a teleportation device
- everyone on my list and the long distance lovers to boot
- rocket powered rollerskates
- a surfboard and a few weekends at surf divas
- a pile of money

this just in - why did it never occur to me that marshmallows cooking on top of sweet potatoes would expand? weird.

and why is weeners really spelled with an ie while weird is spelled ei?

all i want for christmas is clogging lessons and a fresh jar of marschino cherries.

oh and p.s. - andre 3000 and big boi are gonna be on that list but i gotta cut two guys out to do that. i'm curious who you think should get the axe?

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand cue the tenative sigh of relief.

i called my mom tonight for two reasons - one, to find out if brittanie actually did ask to get help last night. and two, if she did, to share intel that i found out.

the difference i'm noticing in this round of crap is that when justin had problems, my mom couldn't handle it, even when us kids were offering up ways to help him. this time around, my mom's got a boyfriend. and he, along with us kids, are helping her deal. seriously, it makes me sad when people depend that much on being in relationships, when they really are much stronger than they give themselves credit for.

independant women, throw your hands up at me and some shit.

the final verdict is my mom is actually going to be calling around looking for a therapist for brittanie. or she says she will. i sincerely truly hope that she holds up her end of the bargain and that brittanie will be okay.

you know what else??!!??!? IT'S TUESDAY. and tomorrow is WEDNESDAY. and the last day of my workweek. sweet lord i love the holidays. all i want for xmas is everything on the list, ahahahahahhahahhha.

sometime soon be on the lookout for bigfatass changes to this here blog, i've grown tired of being fruity. because, of course, that means i'm gay. with all the ladies i sit near at work. or at least that's what i keep hearing around the watercooler.

i don't feel like i know how to write about this constant shit that goes on in my family anymore. like i maybe feel like i'm spilling too much, that i don't want this to be a big fat feel sorry for me party or something, that i don't want people to think i hate my family or something. but i know some people do come here for the latest, to see how i(we're?) doing. and for those people...

since the huge blowup between my mom and i she's been ultra paranoid that everything i say, do, think is a cut against her, that i hate her guts or something. not true. i'm just completely fed up with her inability to deal with ANYTHING by herself as a parent. i'm completely over her constant need for a boyfriend because she's oh so alone when she's got all her kids around who obviously aren't good enough companions.

i always feel like when i'm writing this stuff "holy crap steph you are such a damn selfish jerk". don't get me wrong - i get that she needs other adult company. but to basically guilt your kids with how you're stuck taking care of them when the divorce is over. to not realize your kids can hear when you tell your friends how you didn't sign on to raise the adopted twins yourself. i wish she could see past that little bubble of "i need everyone to take care of me" one-track mindedness and realize what she's doing.

i called the house last night to see how everyone was doing. kind of annoyed starting off because i called sunday afternoon and no answer. left a message and no one called back. called when i got home monday night, same fuckin thing. called again a couple of hours later and oh there she is. i know this game. it's called "i don't wanna have to pay the long distance bill so i'm pushin it off on my filthy rich daughter." (you should read filthy rich with much sarcasm.) i tried again to just keep things light with her, made a few jokes, talked about things that have been going on. and apparently she took all those things to mean i have a huge problem with her. i do, but i never let it out right now because i feel like if i start telling her what i'm really thinking i'm not going to be able to control it, i'm just going to keep screaming.

she grudgingly tells me about brittanie when i ask because she knows i'm gonna be upset.

how she's started scratching herself with sewing needles. and my mother has "done all she can do", basically saying she's not doing anything else. "well, it really sounds like maybe she needs to talk to someone" i tell her, and she jumps on my shit telling me she's trying everything, brittanie doesn't want counselling and she can't make her go if she's not ready to handle it. she tells me bill's bringing over this stuff that should take care of the scarring so it's not permanent. and she tells me to tell b to scratch the word she wrote on her knuckles out with an emery board. yeah gross. i'm not gonna tell my little sister, who's starting down the self-destructive road, to do something like that. it's my little sister for fucks sake.

so i talk to brittanie. and talk. and talk. and talk. and i don't know if i got through. hopefully at least some of it sank in. we talked about how she's grounded all the time, the things she's doing to herself, how she doesn't really get why everyone's coming down on her for having the relationship she's having with her boyfriend, and therapy and how it could be a really good thing, how it could help her understand why she's so confused and how to deal with it and stop hurting herself. she was kinda worried they'd maybe do something like send her to the looney bin, because she feels like she's going crazy and she's worried because she felt completely disconnected when she was doing this to herself. we talked about everything for a really long time. and when we went to hang up it was agreed that she'd go talk to mom about getting some kind of counselling.

here's hoping she gets the help she needs and this scary shit will stop. also, all i want for christmas is no more fucking family drama because the shit gets old. the end.

yea i'm still not writing about the weekend. you know why? because it's late. and because my old friend HomeFront Drama paid about an hour and a half long visit to my phone tonight.

fuck.

bahahahahahahahahhahahahahaahhahhaahha......

that's it. i'm too lazy to write my own blog about the weekend, how about you go read someone else's account. more from my end later.

i changed my mind about what i want for christmas. and all you single fellas, here's your chance.

i will do anything, that's right anything, if you'll buy me a round trip plane ticket to california, a rental car for the weekend of december 13-14, and two tickets to night one of kroq's almost acoustic xmas. read on for an easy explanation as to why this is a neccessary expenditure for you.

important small print: the term anything does not include sleeping together. it does not include groping or even making out. anything does not include me giving you money. or shoes. or pop tarts. anything also doesn't include me taking you out to dinner, or a movie, or even coffee. buying me the above listed things (and you must buy all three, any one of them by themselves is pretty much useless to me) does not gauruntee i will be friends with you or that i will even call you on the phone to say thanks.

but you should do it for me anyways. the starving children in africa would've wanted it this way. merry xmas to you, too.

this just in:

all i want for xmas is a dead chimp and eddie money.

oh my god kat, michelle and i have been talking about doing this for a few years now!!!

who else is in?!?!

today has been truly fucking rad.

woke up late late tater tot this morning because i took the day off for eyedoktoryness. made real breakfast, eggs and toast, instead of instant oatmeal done in a minute crap... just kinda sat around on the couch relaxing and watching bad wisconsin morning shows.

went to the eyeguy. found out they'd accidentally scheduled me to go to the neenah office instead of the oshkosh office. so i booked it up to neenah. and i don't like the helpy helpers as much at that office. my actual doctor is very nice and extremely informative all the time, but his helpers in oshkosh are cooler.

and today was all good news.

turns out my understanding of how things progressed was just okay, and that some of what i thought was going on was a little off: the eye problems have been a combination of central serous retinopathy and a type of uviitis called multi-focal choriditis. the bigass blind spot in the left eye is only partly because of scar tissue from lasar treatments - for the most part the multi focal chlorine pool happens in lots of places in the retina, and i had a particularly aggressive case of the disease. i'm no medically informed person, i leave that to maria, but from what i got out of the pictures i was shown today it essentially makes little parts of the retina bubble up, like when you get a piece of paper wet, and it kills nerve endings. which is why there's so much blind spot.

it makes more sense now that this happened - while both disorders have fairly unknown causes, the mfc usually happens to young women with nearsightedness and hey looky that's me. it may not ever happen in the right eye (cross your fingers for the next 80 years please because i really don't want to go through this ever again), and it typically attacks the eye for a few years and then just stops, goes dormant, takes a nappy nap, hibernates, whatever.

the good news is the eye seems to be at that stopping point. it's been completely stable, no new changes, for two years now. thank god. seriously.

i was in a really great mood when i left the eyeguy's office today, something that hasn't happened in the almost four years i've been visiting retina doctors.THIS IS FUCKING AWESOME. it's just a complete relief; i'm gonna be fine. short an eye, sure. but i'm fine.

out of curiosity - maria, what does code green mean? i head them page that for icu. it sounded serious.

came home and oh man got here just in time to see the bold and the beautiful. the show never ever disappoints.

went thrifting with jenn for a while. picked up a cool new chearleadery type sweater in stacey middle school colors. go team, wee hoo. also found a visor - it's no show me your boobs foam rubber classiness like the one lia and mercy had from vegas, but it's still pretty fun. it's gonna be my new party hat.

by party hat, i of course mean i will get drunk and throw up on it and then toss it out a window because it smells.

came home, got ready to make some dinner. annnnnnnnd the phone rings. and over the course of the call i was crying and trying not to crap myself and pleading with the stranger on the phone and just feeling really bad that this thing he was talking about had happened.

afterward, while i was telling my sister's answering machine how much i'd screwed up and how sorry i was and how i was gonna do everything i could to fix it my cel rings.

and it's my sister.

and about 30 seconds into it she busts up laughing and it was all the BIGGEST FREAKIEST PRACTICAL JOKE EVER. i swear i was trying to figure out how this was going to affect my art career, how it was gonna affect my sister and her family, and so on and so on. there's so much to tell - email me or ask me in person, it's a long really really hilarious story. that i will possibly write about later.

anywho, ate some dinner, went out to look for xmas gifts and such, went grocery shopping.

came home and had art night. pulled a bunch of prints on tshirts for the sisters and the neice and nephew, and made my brother brandon's xmas gift. which is genius. the finger is kind of a sacred ritual in our family - usually given to each other the second our mom turns her back, like a secret handshake. and when she catches us doing it she acts offended like she should, but sounds like she knows it's something that will never ever die with us. because sometimes there's nothing funnier than the middle finger. so for xmas this year, i got one of those preserve your kid's hand in plaster kit.

and i'm going to give brandon the finger.

and now i'm going to go eat some ice cream and go to sleep. the end.

hey ladies, get funky. here's the latest fashion report:

thursdays are the new friday. get on that party train fast, it's a fad that's catching like wildfire!

keep your damn fingers crossed that all's well tomorrow morning at ye doctor of retinas lest ye find your house coated in the remains of my egg container.

translation: if i get bad news i'm egging your house.

you know what, i'll probably end up egging your house either way. i hear soy sauce is the best way to clean it up so you better buy like 5 gallons.

danielle, if it's a severed head i'm going to be very upset.

i have nothing of interest to report today.

except that I HAVE A GIANT ALIEN BABY GROWING IN MY NECK!!!! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

i hate to say it but right on, sister.

not to say he's definitely guilty, because you know, maybe he's not. but our mother's reaction to it is classic.

latest update on the love letter posted this morning:

i'm not the kinda girl to keep a letter like that to herself. i have quite a history of harassing various companies and people when they're doing retarded stuff (like having a concert ticket promotion for the boys dept and nada for the chicks, jerking me around about photo developing, or printing my vegas checks way to freaking light); 9 times out of 10 i get some kind of response from the company involved, and i'd say maybe half the time they bend over backwards to try and get me to remain a loyal customer.

so i went to kid rock's website, looking for a way to send the guy my words of... not support... disdain. i guess that's the best word for it. and the only way to email anything to anyone is to join the fan club. which i am never ever going to do. so that's that. the end.

an open letter to kid rock:

hey cowboy, what's going on? just wanted to take a sec to visit with ya... you know i've never been your biggest fan - when we went to that summer sanitarium tour at the coliseum a couple years ago we all got up and went to the bathroom during your set. and while i kinda sorta like that i'm gonna be a cowboy song in a very hate to admit it kind of way, and your duet with sheryl crow isn't totally heinous, i'm not spending money on either one because meh. (and, new offspring on december 9 so i gotta save my money. you understand.)

but i wanted to thank you anyways, kid rock. i was watching vh1 this morning and saw your new video for that cover you did recently of "i feel like making love". and it did two things for me.

one, it made me throw up on myself.

two, it made me want to go out and buy a bad company cd, because your version of their song totally fucking blew.

anyways, thanks for listening and sorry about the loss of your midget. and i her pam anderson's talkin to tommy again. oh and that cover song was terrible. so... sucks to be you.

sincerely,
steph

whatchoo want baby i got it
whatchoo need you know i got it
all i'm asking for's a little emeril sauce
BAM!

so if i can't post pictures to my yahoo photo album because it's being an ass, i'll post more drunken scribbles. because dammit, they're funny.



pretty early on, a member of the drink police arrived to inform me of the following:

"hey now. you won't be able to draw good and proper til you've had another. how bout you put your jammies on in case you fall asleep?"



a drink later, the hall monitor arrived to tell me that 10 proof liquor is where it's at, and to throw up on himself. and in the corner there, that's me in my viking helmet drinking a beer.



about 20 minutes before falling asleep, just after the take the glasses off and draw-ness happened, i saw a commercial for Bad Santa. and these were my thoughts on it. Bad Santa's gay and ioadrhweosruk;zfhdkufsuisfoidhfohsduifidugfldgf
hfdbfkjdbfjkhxduifsugshduklfrhsuifysdefsjfdifjhl;duifhilxuhnvdhl;uifhsdi;u.gfi;sdgvfuidbgvfhxdulgfzxduvfixdgfldguifvgduigfilg(cue snoring)

also of minor interest, phase 2 of the bake stone experiment was to make cookies on it, in the same places that the fish was last night. and the cookies don't taste like fish. so they can keep my money, i guess.

why the hell do i keep waking up so freaking early on the weekends!?!!?

do you remember back in high school, how they started selling these t-shirts at art supply warehouse (and i'm sure at other stores, too) that said fun witty art things like "good art shouldn't match your couch" and "don't drink and draw"?

that last one's interesting. why aren't you supposed to drink and draw? when you drink and draw, you get shit like this:



this my friends, is two attempts at drawing what tv looks like when i take of my glasses. the good eye, last time i asked, is about 20/400 without glasses. so it really does kind of look like this. on the left, those three big circles are people on the snl monologue. and the big wavy line on the right is obviously a time machine being towed by a hermit crab.

also found the following upon review of last night's watch-better-luck-tomorrow-again-while-drinking-and-doodling sketchbook pages: a large hall monitor throwing up on the floor and my thoughts on football, nail biting, and the commercials for the new billy bob thornton flick.

and couch shopping has started up again, cross your fingers!

also, part 1 of the bakestone experiment (cooking fish on it) went really really well. easily the best fish i've ever cooked. today part 2, making cookies on the bakestone, takes place. and if they taste like fish i'm demanding my money back.

this action packed weekend continues with me going to the grocery store, the laundromat, and the bathroom.

blarg? um. blarg? yeah, the typy window in blogger is all jacked up. it's almost as buggy as celebrity pokemon. almost.

so it's weird typing and not being able to see anything outside of the one line you're typing on. like writing blind or something.

at the reccomendation of my sis danielle, who has impeccable taste except where the backstreet boys are concerned (i tell her they're way better than n'sync but she swears it's the other way around), i rented better luck tomorrow tonight. and you should do the same - it's pretty fucking cool. and filmed in orange county. and you know what a jerk i am about those things. anywho, the best part is that they film part of it at danielle and brittanie's high school - and it's a super low budget film, and you can totally tell the high school these kids apparently go to is really cypress high. or maybe you don't know it's cypress per se, but you know it's not really some school whose colors are green and yellow. especially when cypress high's plastered with blue and orange all over the place.

that aside, it's really good and you should watch it.

and this blogging sucks when you cant read what you're writing, and i'm too annoyed to go type it in word. more on this tomorrow. this interview is over.

so it turns out i'm gonna have to break out the paints and make another foray into the dark and seedy underbelly of art known as tole painting. i'm gonna paint a plaque that says "home is where the booze is".

more on this and other gripping news stories as they develop. i'm marla hendricks with BPTV. back to you in the studio stephen.

it's been decided that i will be having satan's baby in the not too distant future.

so we're gonna have a little contest here at www.dehdohdee.blogspot.com - leave a comment with who would be the proper person to sleep with to have satan's baby, and what said baby would end up looking like. diagrams and other visual aids (as well as complete bibliographies detailing your research) are strongly encouraged.

winner gets an undisclosed (but guarunteed fabulous) prize! have at it!

who likes cool rough, unfinished animation? you do? how about you go here! and for the love of god stop throwing up on yourself! i'm sure there's a psa about that somewhere in there.

what's that, you say? you're more into tole painting? lots of inspiration for your next fabulous project here!

a brief disclaimer: i do not tole paint. i have done it a couple of times before (not by choice) and, in fact, i fucking hate tole painting. but more power to you if that's your bag, baby. i'm not here to judge.

snicker and make jokes about tole painting behind your back, yes. judge, no.

quick update: we did indeed get quite a break on parking - my theory is our quick inventory of how much cash we had on us, including 3 bucks or so in quarters and various change, made us look sorry enough for the guy to let us park for less than 1/3 the price.

and whirlwind heat is the suckiest suck that ever sucked.

hooray, white stripes!!!

and seriously, i felt bad because as much as i wanted to be there and as much as i liked them live, it was a monday night and i was still sleepy from the weekend and i just wanted to be in bed. but it was good times anyways, and chock full of insane crazy good people-watching.

the question of the day is whether or not we really got a break on the cost of parking - i will not rest until the answer is discovered, do you hear me!?!?

and before i go work (or pretend to, anyways) one more thing that i told jen last night. i like concerts. a lot. i've been to quite a few. and i hope i never get to the point where i'm a big snob about the venue we're going to. but i still have to say the acoustics at the rave totally suck.

two more things:

screenprinting your own stuff is seriously addicting. after making the shirt last night, i wanted to print that swirly candy on everything in my house, including my carpet, my couch, my dresser, and so on and so on. oc people, you can get tons of supplies at pearl art and craft.

a couple of years ago my friend wendy from thinkbox hired me to do a painting of herself and her husband marty for their anniversary. since then they've had some problems and sold all their stuff on ebay, and then they had an accident with their rv while en route to colorado; the rest of their few belongings were destroyed. except for that painting. it's kinda cool that they've kept it around.

i really really don't want to be working today. i want to be at home sleeping and working on my bum chic modelling moves.

so how much did i accomplish this weekend? let's review:

pretend to work - done

have some drinks bought by others - done. was tons o fun getting sloppy with the coworkers, was a little odd talking to people that came to the party that hadn't worked with us since they were let go...

get up too early to freeze my ass off while pulling 25 foot tall balloon in a parade
- lord, yes. it was cold. much, much too cold. i think when i left my house at quarter after 7 to get downtown the weather channel said it was 3 degrees outside. we milled around outside in this parking lot waiting for the balloon to inflate and the parade to start for like 2 hours. despite not being able to feel my fingertips, it wasn't all bad; the chilly willy and the gingerbread balloons had a great godzilla-like fight courtesy of us lowly balloon pullers, and i hope my picture of it turns out as funny as i think it will... jen showed up on the street just as we were getting ready to walk and was coerced into balloon wrangling with us... the parade itself went much quicker than i thought it would. and twirling a balloon in a circle is only fun the first couple of times.

pick up pills and pay the bills - done and done. also got an oil change

harass people online - done.

dress up all my black vinyl and go see mystic river - unfortunately there was no time to don the black vinyl, jen and i headed up to appleton shortly after paradeness on sat.

trade mystic river ticket for one to the matrix - no time, just bought a matrix ticket. it was good. really cool shit. but i still like the first one the best - less chat more splat is what i like when i go to an actiony type flick. and who knew that neo was agent smith's son?! insane.

congratulate kat evans on her having worked on said matrix sequel - done.

further coax trav into being my next derogatory autograph - done.

buy a baby shower present - for me to poop on.

see if i can do up that white stripes shirt i been talking about making for months - done.

drink some coffee - done. and sometimes starbucks boys, while kinda cute, are also kinda dumb.

sleep in - done.

make phone calls to the sibling units - whoops, just talked to one of them - will catch up with the rest of you later this week.

say unit as much as possible - unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit unit

make something on the new bakestone - i didn't make something on it, but i cooked a pizza while it was in the oven and it made my kitchen smell like a brick. the fish/cookie test will follow - stay tuned before you get suckered into buying one!

throw said bakestone off roof - got lazy.

write to home and garden party to report bakestone broke - still lazy.

so it seems the only things i didn't get to were watching zoolander again and cleaning the shower. which nobody will write angree letters to me about, i'm sure.

also, jenn and i were joking about patronizing as many of the shops on koeller street as possible this weekend and i didn't even realize it but shit that street took a lot of my money. this weekend alone i went to: walgreens, taco bell, starbucks, copps food, shopko, target, pickle and save, and the valvoline oil change place.

white stripes tonight unless they cancel it again! hooray!

note to self: here's what's on tap for the weekend:

pretend to work
have some drinks bought by others
get up too early to freeze my ass off while pulling 25 foot tall balloon in a parade
clean the stankass shower
pick up pills and pay the bills
harass people online
dress up all my black vinyl and go see mystic river
trade mystic river ticket for one to the matrix
congratulate kat evans on her having worked on said matrix sequel
further coax trav into being my next derogatory autograph
buy a baby shower present
see if i can do up that white stripes shirt i been talking about making for months
drink some coffee
sleep in
avoid phone calls from the maternal unit
make phone calls to the sibling units
say unit as much as possible
make something on the new bakestone
throw said bakestone off roof
write to home and garden party to report bakestone broke
watch zoolander again

oh! and this just in from our The-OC-on-Fox-Accuracy-Check!

there really is a balboa wetlands, it's fuckin cool, and there are people who want to fuck it up by building on/near it.

so here's to the oc for making an episode or two that are ripped from the headlines.

hey! p.s., jerkos!!! don't forget to go to the damn holiday parade and see me making a complete ass of myself with the chilly willy balloon! chop suey kablooie!

'kay, i just coaxed my computer into letting me blog and now nature calls. hold on a sec.

aaaaaaaaaaaand we're back.

in more ways than one.

i haven't been online at night for a good long chunk of time since last weekend. "what's that?" you say - "you know it's thursday, right?!?!" yeah well suck it - i added it up and the results are OVERTIME BLOWS. especially HUGE EXPANSES OF UNPAID OVERTIME. AND THEN EVERY TIME YOU SEE THE LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL THEY JUST PILE MORE CRAP SANDWICHES ON YOUR PLATE. BLAAAAAAAAARG.

not to say that i eat crap sandwiches. but if i did, i think one would be plenty and i really would be upset if someone kept putting more of them on my plate. because if they just sat there, they'd really stink up the joint.

i hate to say i'm glad there's a someone's leaving bgosh happy hour tomorrow, but since there is one there is NO OVERTIME. which IS RAD.

I HATE PEOPLE WHO TYPE IN ALL CAPS. THOSE FUCKING JERKS. MORE ON THIS GRIPPING NEWS STORY AS IT DEVELOPS.

in other news, the result of going to work early, leaving hideously late, not cleaning up after myself and going straight to bed all week equals a 10 foot tall pile of dishes. and fat plus fat equals fat. the end.

gods be praised!!!

two things before i go pretend to work:

1) just over a month before the new offspring cd - no i haven't heard "hit that" yet, because as i've stated over and over again oshkosh radio is lame.

2) i think the orange people that we hate so much are those who use self-tanners badly.

3) i'm getting really pissed off at the recent trend of superimposing a dvd cover onto an object in "HEY BUY THIS NEW DVD, JERK!" commercials.

exhibit a is the commercial for daddy day care, where the kid takes what is probably a box of cereal off a store shelf and the creative geniuses that made the commercial put the dvd cover on the box, making it look like he took the dvd off the shelf.

exhibit b is the commerical for dumb and dumberer, where the kids who wish they were jim carrey and jeff daniels are holding whatever and their dvd is stuck on there and they're all "woah."

woah is right, jerkos. as in WOAH THAT LOOKS TOTALLY GAY.

i'm feeling a little surly this morning. staying mondo late at work last night probably has something to do with that.

pssssst. hey, you - you look like you haven't heard enough about halloween yet. how about you go check out some pics that mark took?

of special interest is the mystery middle finger.... and the little piece of my hat that gives the mystery away.

even more hilarious is the last pic on the page, which is the most excellent example ever of what i'm like when i been drinking....

hey hey, i was just reminded of the mcdonalds tape incident on halloween!!!

when we got into madison on friday night, jenn and i stopped at this mcdonalds to use their facilities and get some snacks - this guy that worked there was putting together his halloween costume, which he called Duct Tape Boy and involved putting lots of duct tape on his person. the second we walked in the door was the second he was applying a strip of duct tape to his crotch.

we got free cookies for coming in costume. and mcdonalds employees hate those "i'm lovin' it" commercials just as much as the rest of us. the end.

two reasons why it sucks that i'm poor and used up all my vacation time: offspring's probably playing kroq's acoustic xmas and danielle knows someone who knows dexter and with a phone call could not only get us tickets but backstage, and there's rumors of a xmas playboy party being thrown by cool disney peeps. the rules are simple: girls come dressed as playmates, guys come dressed as hef, drink some drinks, madcap mayhem results until the cops shut it down. i think the last one was another one of those ween-sightings that is so prevalent when my sister michelle and i get sauced together.

you know what else sucks? that song "everybody's working for the weekend". but only when you also have to work on the weekend. ploo.

halloween was insane.

let me say that again.

halloween was insane.

it was one of those days at work, like around xmastime or early spring, where everybody's in insanely good moods and just doesn't want to do anything. which is lovely. so we all mostly sat around eating candy, shooting the shit, and sharing deep dark secrets about life the universe and everything. oh yeah, and there was a sumo wrestler pair that made an appearance. balloons were decorated - mine was a tribute to the horrible slasher flick "killer party". don't rent it, even if you're paid 50 bazillion dollars. it's the shittiest movie ever. i mean ever. jenn's was a sweetass skull and crossbones, and the wb wrote kill steph and drew a very angree looking dagger. and she tied it so it floated just above her nameplate. this is funny because we're cubemates. it was so freakin' great to see people with candy-coma-smiles on their faces walking by and noticing what it said for the first time, then looking at the both of us very confusedly and walking away.

after work i went out looking for fake eyelashes, because 60s chicks always seem to have those on... got home and got sucked into that ned and stacey episode where they accidentally make out, and realized oh crap i was running really late. had some issues with the eyelashes and glue, namely: not enough time for careful application, some irritation that made me think maybe someone with crazy freaky eye problems shouldn't be messing around with cosmetic glue around said broken eyes, and them just not going where they were supposed to. so off came the lashes.

jen and i went on down to the p after taking crazy pictures - i swear to crap i spent a lot of time putting together my shit (i made a freakin' hat for chrissakes), but as lia and mercy are so fond of saying... jenn fuckin' BROUGHT IT. have you ever been to nocandy.org? jenn was one of the girls from a fawn gehweiler painting. and she was freaking hot. no lie. she made me want to throw up on my costume and go find a copy of killer party to rent and sit at home throwing up on myself and crank calling pudding as judge judy (oh man she hates that!). seriously though, kiddies, i loved my crazy retro stewardessness - but jenn's costume was rad.

we hung at the p for a while, got harassed by old dudes sitting at the bar, headed out to madison. the costumes at this party were totally sweet - lia was richard simmons (with a never say die-t! shirt), mercy defied gravity with her 6 inch long fake lashes for her tammy faye, mark was marty mcfly, this girl jamie wore this bee costume that she swore was the same thing she'd been wearing for halloween since eighth grade... which is possibly debatable - when jen and i got there at 9:30 she was already fairly plastered and loudly inquisitive about everyone's sexual preferences. five minutes later she threw up... april o'neil and the turtles were there, along with a huge deviled egg (picture a fried egg with devil horns) and the kool-aid man, whose mom made his costume and who got catcalls from strangers calling him everything from a tomato to a red pumpkin.

a couple of guys were dressed as u of iowa tailgaters, and someone came dressed as a sheep and the j.c. or she was a shepherd and i am dumb. there was just lots of crazy creativity flying around. with booze. lots of people coming and going to this and other parties and state street. had lots of discussions with jenn and mark about the progress of hoverboards and flying cars and vowed if there's no flying cars by the time 2015 rolls around i'm gonna kill myself. no one offered to join me on that - which i thought was odd.. seems like a worthy cause.

later on, when all were pretty sauced, took 15 minutes to bundle up (thanks to lia and mercy for borrowed warmness) for a walk around the block with kool-aid and eggman. on the way out the door, koolaid stumbled down the last flight of stairs. while eggman and i were laughing at him i fell down the stairs, too. not cuz i was drunk, you understand. those stairs are treacherous - if you're not careful they'll pull you down for that crocodile dundee death roll thing. or for a california roll. it's a little known fact that stairs are a huge fan of sushi. so we finally got outside mostly unharmed, and went around the block where we threw rocks at some tall metal sculptures. art is fun. until you almost throw a rock through a window, then it's time to keep walking. found a pole on the walk, brought it back to l and m's for a souvenier.

lots and lots of pictures were taken - one of the polaroids i never got to see, but koolaid tried to do a bust through walls thing with a helpless room divider - it didn't bust apart so much as it just pushed forward and got a little bent.

somewhere around 1something or so people started winding down and getting sleepy. why is this important? because i'm at work and telling insignificant little details keeps me from having to do any actual work. which is cool. cool, i tell you.

woke up the next morning to someone hanging up on the answering machine and collective laughter from the sleeping drunkies - their outgoing message was that talking mac voice - you know which one i'm talking about, you can hear it on radiohead's ok computer cd. mercy busted out this cd that had a song a friend wrote for her using that, and it was supposed to be stephen hawking and it was hilarious. i think eggman was blessed with the foam show me your boobs visor l and m brought back from their recent vegas trip... somewhere along the line people got dressed and we walked 29.7 miles to breakfast - which was totally worth it, the food was really freaking good. then we walked 29.7 miles back to the apartment. shortly after jenn and i headed back to the ok corrall, which sometimes is neither a corrall or ok. but it was really nice to get back and just sit my hungover ass down on the couch and watch tv. and sleep. and do laundree.

high point of yesterday was fighting fighting fighting to stay awake to see outkast on the snl and then falling asleep anyways, but sitting bolt upright fully awake about 3 seconds before the first time they were on. you gotta shake it like a polaroid picture, baby. then i fell asleep again, and missed the second performance, which i'm suspecting was "i like the way you move". plop on falling asleep again. but it was funny when i woke up, because i was all out of it and the opening credits for the movie that came on after were playing and for about 10 minutes i was completely pissed off that they let this shitty skit go on for so long. then i looked at the clock and was pissed that i was watching this shitty movie for ten minutes.

again, this is important because i don't want to work. in fact, in just a few it'll be time for coffee with jenn. maybe i'll start working after that.