FYI
“President” Bush is having a press-conference at 5 o’clock PST today to address the war on ego Iraq. Let’s all watch the monkey dance!
So then he was all, “What’s ‘boring’, Dave?”
And I’m all, “What’s boring?”
And he’s all, “Yeah…like what would you say was boring?”
And so I’m all, “Dude, boring is like totally watching chess on TV. Watching that Kasparov guy just hold his head in his hands is a real yawner… and worse? Worse is the job of the two other guys that make the moves for the computer. The TWO other guys!”
OK, I love that you’ve come here, I really do. But the skirts panties Japan see-thru thing is so two weeks ago. Do come back, but for something else next time. How about something like:
leg stuck train, or
wife resurrect husband, or
man cuts penis off, fidelity
If you insist on the see-thru skirt thing, here was my post, and here is the explanation of why it’s fake. Happy hunting.
*UPDATE Well now it makes sense. As of this writing, I am the supa-star #1 Google-hit for visible panties Japan
I don’t know care if I’ve ever mentioned it or not, but I have very few vices. I don’t smoke, drink, do drugs, or really do anything fun like a normal person. I just sit by my pool and gaze lovingly at my reflection all day.
ahem
Anyway, if there’s one thing that comes close to being a vice, it’s Pepsi, aka God’s Elixir of Sweet Mother Loving Life. It’s been a pretty much constant companion since high school and I’ve been known to burn through a 6-pack in a day from time to time.
You know what? There’s really nothing comedic in this, so I’ll just quit with the long set-up and go with an abstract instead:
Averaging some two Pepsi’s a day for the past several years, I recently decided to not quit, but cut back. I set a goal of one Pepsi per day, with a wish to skip days, slowly weaning myself off as much as possible. The reasons for this were several: too many empty calories, makes your teeth brown, should drink more water, who needs all that caffeine? I’ve been largely successful but have been slipping a bit lately. My efforts are re-doubled, though, and I’m currently suffering caffeine withdrawl headaches again. This monkey is a son of a bitch!
I’m not sure what drew me back in, but I think it was actually the sugar more than the caffeine. As I said, I don’t really have any vices, and sweets especially has never been one of them. I’m not big on chocolate, have never need a sugar-fix, and almost always skip dessert. Having said that, I’ve lately been thinking about desserts more, and resisting going to 7-11 just to get some Sweet-Tarts or something.
The point? There is no point. Like I said, this post went nowhere.
As part of our duty to humanity, ADG and I spent the better part of Sunday working on a Habitat for Humanity house. If you know me at all (which you don’t, but if you did) you’d know that I love that kind of stuff. By “stuff” I honestly more mean the working on houses aspect than necessarily the charity involved. Sorry, but I like wielding hammers.
So I got a recorded telemarketing call just now. Instead of hanging up like I usually do, I put the phone down and decided to wait it out. Every few minutes I would pick up the phone and see if I was still being pitched to.
Yep, still babbling. He sounds so friendly.
More web-surfing, desk cleaning, wall-staring, and then I check again. It seems like he’s wrapping up when I hear something about, “…to be on our ‘do not call’ list, please press 8 to be transferred to our marketing removal department”. What’s this?! I press 8 more firmly than probably necessary, and hear how they’re very sorry for bothering me, my number is being removed from the system. Who says unemployed people can’t be productive?
As widely reported here at various intervals, I am lately suffering the addictive effects of massive crossword puzzle dementia. It’s 3:15 in the morning, and I’m trying to do the New York Times crossword puzzle. “It’ll help me sleep,” I say. Like hell. I’ve failed miserably by the way.
Not widely reported here, as in not ever to my recollection, is that: I have suffered from insomnia for many years. Not movie-insomnia, mind you, where I stay up into the morning inventing fission reactors furiously by candlelight. Normal insomnia where it takes me a long time to fall asleep, I wake up often, and sometimes the whole sleep thing doesn’t work out enough to prevent me from trying to do crossword puzzles at now 3:19 in the morning.
This is not the point.
The point is, that on the same page that links to the day’s crossword puzzle…
[tangent] How many of you, by the way, assumed I meant the online version, as opposed to the print one, when I said, “I’m trying to do the New York Times crossword puzzle”? I wager, most likely incorrectly, that it breaks down by age. All zero of you reading this over 40 maybe think “PRINT”; whereas you non-existent, techno-savvy, 20 year-old cam girls think “ONLINE”. That is not, to say that techno-savvy, 20 year old cam girls do not exist. That is to say that they do not exist…here
…is a link to the 26th Annual American Crossword Puzzle Tournament. Under this link, amongst the abstract describing what I might find should I click the link above, is another link. This one saying, Video Highlights from Last Years Events…
The sum-total amount of complete and utter abject horror I find at the very idea of the existence of such information is far far beond my ability to describe. I shudder to think of clicking it.
I just spent $27 on a tank-full of regular 87 octane gas. Thank you, President Bush.
I think that shirts with numbers on them are the quintessential height of fashion. I don’t mean basketballs jerseys or the like; I mean simple T-shirts with big number 5‘s or whatnot emblazoned on the front or back. I think they’re awesome because companies like Gap (and therefore Old Navy) say they are. Pure marketing genius. And we buy them, that’s the thing.
“Mom! Mom! Get me this shirt!”
The number 8 shirt??
“Oh, that’s an 8? At first glance I thought it was a 3. Never mind, 8’s suck.”
annnnd scene.
I love getting shirts with numbers on them because I genuinely enjoy the ridiculousness of it, and revel even more in the fact that people around me think I’m, as the kids say, hip (at least outwardly… and yes I realize the number thing is starting to get played, but humor me). It just cracks me up.
Look at me! I’m number eighteen of, err, Local Sports Team! I’m the best numerically!
Anyone out there that wants to hook me up with some sweet numbered T-shirts, I’m all for it. By way of payment, check out my cam for a view of my favorite.
PS Yes, it’s really 2:30 in the morning; and no, I don’t have anything better to do
The thing is, though, Target is awesome. Seriously, Target? You’re the best.
Also, ever-more of you are coming looking for “Japan see thru panties“… which is interesting as they’re not actually purported to be see-thru, or even panties for that matter, but there you go. For the real definitive word, you should also go here.
Also, in an effort to garner even more undeserved hits, let me throw out some more buzz words of the moment: Joe Millionaire Zora Evan Marriott! Yee-haw!
Of actual interest, though, is this little tax-analysis of their $million$ surprise… which They estimate eventually resulting in about $246,000 each. wah-waaah (like I wouldn’t take it)
