One of the warnings for this menopause medicine I just saw advertised was that you shouldn’t use it if you were pregnant or nursing. You shouldn’t use the MENOPAUSE medicine if you are PREGNANT or NURSING.
That statement is true in so many ways.
I had a run-in with the DMV this afternoon, which was as you would expect it: There were too many DMV employees for the amount of people in line, each person begging to serve NEXT PLEASE! After dancing and singing for what turned out to be only an instant, but seemed a blissful eternity, we all posed for pictures. Pictures of us smiling, pictures of us faux kissing, pictures us of with our eyes crossed and hands like owl-eyes, etc, etc. Afterwards we all exchanged numbers and promised to keep in touch, which I know we will. It was a grand ol’ time… just like always.
In other news, David Blaine seems to be having a time of it, being pelted with eggs and taunted with the smell of food. Said one Londoner Londonite Londonian citizen:
We were watching him at home on TV and it was really dull so we thought we would come down and liven things up. I wanted to wake him up…
I can’t say I entirely blame them. Blaine started to lose me when he decided to freeze himself for safe keeping in Times Square a while back; rendering him about as interesting to look at as, say, a block of ice. I can’t imagine what the real fascination there would be in witnessing someone stand in a box for 44 days… unless he died, of course; but do I really have to sit through 6 weeks of veritable grass growing to see him fall asleep?
I keep thinking, “This is the guy that can fly!. He’s the one that used to freak-out passerby by reading their minds and levitating off the ground. Now he just… stands.”
yawn
Well, the cops are on their way… I’d better take my shirt off.
A few days ago the L.A. Times reported that the California State Senate has voted to approve driver’s licenses for illegal immigrants. An excerpt:
Advocates say the bill, which the governor said he would sign, will make the roads safer and end an era of anti-immigration sentiment. Opponents counter that the state will be setting out a welcome mat for terrorists as well as undocumented workers.
…end an era of anti-immigration sentiment? That makes little to no sense. My personal argument against this isn’t that I’m against immigrants… it’s that I’m against illegal immigrants. You want a license, and all the rights and privileges therein? Great, become a citizen. Is that really too much to ask? I know absolutely nothing about it, but I don’t think I’m allowed to cruise down to Baja and get a Mexican license just because I feel like it. Or maybe I can, I could be wrong. I ran into Gray while he was out surfing and thought I’d ask him about it. He was wearing an old-school diver’s wetsuit and helmet, which I thought was odd, and his board was at least 60 pounds of solid oak.
Wassup G-Dog?
Oh just doing what I do, you know. Catching some waves, scoping some chicken-heads
I feel you. So I hear you’re going to sign the illegal-immigrants-get-licenses-thing
I’m doing what now?
You know, the bill the Senate just passed allowing illegal immigrants to get driver’s licenses?
Are you sure? That doesn’t sound like me… That sounds awfully…
Committal?
Maybe, I would have to review my choice of words and get back to you with a non-definitive response
I understand. I’m sure you realize how it looks when you waffle back and forth on an issue and then suddenly fall one way when it looks like it will get you more votes in the recall election, right?
What now? Oh, this set’s mine! Later gator!
sigh
When I was younger, playing Cowboys and Indians, the Indians always won. They had to. They were stealthy, mystical, mysterious, and had war whoops and arrows; where as the Cowboys only had *yawn* 6-shooters. Ironic considering the way reality turned out.
So yesterday was Labor Day, which was ironic as I have no labor with which to celebrate the vacationing from of. I looked back in my archives to see what I thought about the same situation last year, and was surprised to see that I didn’t think anything of it. No post. I had assumed that I would have said something ironic and sad, but nay, nary a line.
That first line up there got me to thinking. We have an entire day to celebrate that we get a day off. You celebrate, really, the happiness of not going to work. At least, that’s the way I interpret Labor Day… it’s certainly not a celebration of the act of labor. If it were, I would think that we would all do 20 hour days by way of honoring the institution of toil; but instead we set apart an entire paid 8 hours to bask in our collective hooky.
I find that strange.
“Hey y’all, there’s this terrible thing that we all hate but can’t actually come together to figure out a way to collectively live without it. One thing’s for sure, we can’t beat it. We can, however, all agree to forget about it… for one day.”
At any rate, it’s definitely looking like by this time next year I’ll be definitely posting something ironic and sad; but this time to complain about my job.
The stress is coming in pretty good, now. After some fine tuning, and a bit of a slow start, things seem to be running pretty smoothly, jacking my shoulders up a few quarters of an inch, tightening my intestines into ever-decreasing spirals, and kicking the insomnia back into high gear. It’s that decision time of year, and I now have four offers that all both excel and disappoint for a number of reasons. Unfortunately, it’s not easy enough to just go for the money. There are many a slip twixt a cup and a lip.
Ironically, I have been lamenting all the things I wanted to do, places I wanted to go, people I wanted to see during this “break” I’ve been on for too long to comfortably admit. The things is, which I realize as I write this, is that all of those things took something I had an ever-dwindling supply of: money. It’s a Catch-22.
I’m having the shoulda-woulda-couldas when there’s no point in exploring them. Should I have gone to Canada after all? Should I have gotten a job at The Gap while I was still looking? Should I have tried harder to learn and do more on my hiatus? Could I have been better, smarter, faster, cooler than I was? And on and on and on.
Most importantly, though… most importantly… is one other burning question:
Where do I sign?
I didn’t watch the MTV Music “Awards” on account of the fact that I don’t have MTV… because I don’t have cable… because I can’t afford it… because of the no job, you see.
I didn’t watch the MTV Music “Awards”, but I heard all about it, especially the above, and that’s just good television.
Prompted by Tony’s post, I looked back on my long and storied history of firsthand memories, and I’m almost completely fairly certain that I’ve never seen two girls honest to goodness make-out in real life (special emphasis on in real life). I would say that the fact that I have to even stop to think about it, pretty much confirms that I haven’t seen it.
I think I would remember something like that.
I’m very disappointed in myself that I haven’t experienced that, yet. The harder I think about it, the more I feel like there’s some vague memory from a club, or walking down the street on a New Year’s Eve, or rounding a corner at exactly the right time… but I don’t think it’s true. I think I just want it to be true. Casual, even lingering, kiss? Sure. But make-out kiss? No.
Which makes me wonder how many people, of any sex or level of fame, have I seen really go at it; and, I realize, it’s not that many. A lot in junior high and high school, of course; where either the high of conquest, love of PDA’s (and not the one’s made by Palm), or the overflowing hormone-fueled lust meant people were always making out somewhere, usually during lunch, and almost always standing right in the middle of the field, or lunch-line, or cafeteria.
Adult-For-Reals making out, though? Not so much.
Apparently, when you grow up you get all “discreet” or some such nonsense. To hell with that, ladeez, let’s get nuts!
The milk I just bought as an expiration date of September 10th. I can’t help but think that that’s intentional.
Welcome, by the way, to all visitors directed here by Tony Pierce’s busblog. Tony and I go way back, having both been Gauchos fighting the good fight in I.V. True, he being 108, he was there some 80 years before I was, but our enemy was the same, and his memory long-lasting.
Tony has the Midas touch when it comes to blogging; one link and you’re golden. Hopefully, you’ll find a reason to keep coming back.
Like the image to the left, for instance.
Or perhaps that my March 2003 search strings were as follows:
1) 22 2.97% stuff
2) 19 2.57% visible panties
3) 17 2.30% japan see-thru skirts
4) 16 2.16%japan see thru skirts
5) 16 2.16% see thru skirts
6) 15 2.03% see-thru skirts
7) 15 2.03% visible panties japan
8) 12 1.62% see thru panties
9) 11 1.49% see thru skirts japan
10) 11 1.49% see-thru skirts japan
11) 9 1.22% japan see thru skirt
You have to admit, that’s a lot of panties; and, isn’t that really what Life is all about?
