Holy shit. I have huge news. And I can't tell anyone what it is. Maybe after Sunday the news will be known to the masses, but I can't say a damn thing about it until then. It's not technically my news, so... I promised I wouldn't say anything. And I'm not. But... Holy ShitAnyway. Damn. I know I had other stuff to talk about, but I can't ( Read more... )

I watched Maedchen In Uniform on the Random Foreign Movie Channel this morning. Maybe I'm crazy (shut up), but in the scene after the play, before she gets wasted on punch, Hertha Thiele (Manuela) looks exactly like Evan Rachel Wood. Or Evan Rachel Wood looks like Hertha Thiele. I mean, Hertha was born first. And I think she died before Evan ( Read more... )

Lizzie Borden by the Chad Mitchell Trio ( Read more... )

Yeah, again with the whole not updating thing. I don't happen to care, though, so... Bite Me Hard. Except for Amy. It's not that I like her more than anyone else, it's just that I know where she's been. Anyway. I had a lousy long weekend, and I'm not planning on being nice to anyone until Wednesday. At the earliest. Just so you know ( Read more... )

Okay, weird. You want weird? Try this: I was attacked by a catfish. And not one of those nasty Southern take-your-arm-off, brackish-sewage-backwater-dwelling catfish, oh no. No, of course not. Because this is me. No, I was brutally attacked by an itty bitty fishtank catfish. One minute I'm taking the filter out to clean, and the next ( Read more... )

Oh, man. What a fucking awesome week ( Read more... )

Yesterday was Mother's Day. I hate Mother's Day. It's just a big excuse for mothers to lay on the guilt and make you desperate to atone for every little thing you've ever done. All day long it was just...

~See these white hairs? You gave them to me. Sixth grade on.
~See this cellulite? Your sister was a fat baby. Ten months I carried her. ( Read more... )

Ouch. Just... ouch. Never fuck around with heavy machinery. I hurt. A lot.

Bad part: Pain.
Good part: I got to do an Idgie impression. You know: "God damn it to hell, son of a bitch!" I used more words than that, but the sentiment was similar...

That's all I have, really. I'm going to go writhe in pain again.

Okay. Here's a bit of a... thing. Say your mother goes to the library a whole lot. And suppose she checks out nothing but murder mysteries, gardening manuals and cook books. Would you be at all worried? I'm starting to get a little nervous. If I ever disappear, tell the cops to dig up my mom's garden. And don't eat anything she offers you. ( Read more... )

I never thought I'd say this, but... I miss the days of Lil Carter. Now there's a woman who knows how to write a good Final Exam. I mean, what's up with all of this essay stuff? Lil's finals were genius. Five questions and one bonus. Number one: Who was Cole Porter? Number two: Where would you find Officer Krupke? Number three: Locate ( Read more... )