what honestly crossed my mind last weekend

While I don't know the rationale of the claim that 70% of an average person's body heat is lost via the noggin, if we go with that then it's safe to assume some of us with what some may deem a disproportionately large head lose more heat at this area of the body.

Self-question:
If I just super-bundle my head and neck, do I even really need to wear a winter coat? I mean, within reason, could it be?

Self-answer:
No. And with these crummy, weak, scarred lungs of mine the theory mustn't come close to being tested.

[Scene: Brady Bunch opening screen with the nine squares. In place of Mr. Brady - my brain. In place of Alice, my lungs, right there in the middle waving and smiling, messing everything up. My Brain is not Mr. Brady, however, and first growls then roars and throws itself lobe-long at Lungs. Lungs stare into the gaping maw between Brain's hemispheres and shrieks. Brain finds those little black lines dividing them to be more an issue than one might expect, gathers self together, determined to maintain its dignity.]

cha-i-rity

I was telling Polsky how LZP is currently dating the worst-named-to-date-LZP person imaginable. The formula for this, you ask? Ah, it is quite simple:
sibling's first name = date's first name
+
date's last name rhymes with female subject's first name

She cannot take his last name, and he cannot take hers because then he'd...have her brother's name.

Also, he has a beard, but has been alerted that its removal is vital.

To this Polsky shared that her visiting friend from L.A. showed up last week with a two-foot long beard.
[her face: shameful admittal/visual lust of reaction.
my face: disgust.
her face: acknowledgment of shared mental anguish]
His excuse is that it's for charity.

But can there be, even in the further reaches of the intellectual universe that is L.A., a charity for people to donate to those with less fortunate chins?

eyrror

That is when my eye makes an error, and is not the retarded cousin of the donkey in Winnie the Pooh. (There's still no excuse for naming him Pooh, though. Regardless of slangination, 'pooh' sounds icky.)

Anypooh, I was poking about in the blogger utility navigations and thought it somehow read 'Dashbort' where Dashboard appears. Dashbort could only be a hurried abortion. That is not what I was looking for.

And probably is not the sort to have, especially in place of looking at your blog(s). "Darnit. I meant to create a new post...Rather impressive functionality, howevah."

a date with breastiny

My f'ing gawd - they're even bigger today.

How do people stand this?

hermones

My boobs hurt.

They won't stop.

I do not feel like my boyfriend's friend who declared last weekend at dinner that his four-year old son is his nemesis, mostly because I do not feel my breasts are bound to grow into better versions of myself.

Hello, old friends, rooted mightily to my rib-region. I miss what we used to have - the quiet walks in the park, bounding painlessly down steps, snuggling up on a cold night just keeping each other warm. Remember? I don't want you to do anything you're uncomfortable with. Let's just do what feels good, and comes naturally, to both of us.

Reduce yourselves! Stand down! It can be like it used to be for us.

It can.

some say award-worthy, some say lawsuit

This is the dumbest, most clearly male-invented shoe in the Western world.
I'm sure it is tempting on a daily basis to point out to people what a simple little bunch of sheep we most often, despite our supposed desire for 'individuality,' are. But, Marc Jacobs, must you push it quite so far?

another fantastical power shot to hizzel

If voodoo could work, wouldn't we use it for pleasure at least as much as pain?

Safe sex and masturbation could go to new levels.

pre-speak

Last night, I used the phrase "mice hex" in conversation. A moment later it hit me what that sounded like.

nothing needs be said

miss south

She wowed them in South Carolina, mastering advanced classes like:
Religion
Highlighting (markers)
Highlighting (hair)
Prepositional Magic
Creative Cartography



And inspired a nation.

Osama us bin making better uses of our time than others.

sweet, nourishing michael ian black

(Foreword: I am still mourning the loss of the Stella Show, and eager to once more relive the magic that was the Migrant Worker episode.)

We were so close last night, Michael Ian, though I have created situations that visually made you appear closer. But that was long ago. We needn't dwell.

Your head? So big! It's really so, so big. [Sigh.]

And LZP will likely continue to attempt brainwashing me into believing you did look right at me when waving goodbye at your Exeunt Stage Right. So I will continue telling her your eyes said, "Sure, my son is a disappointment - but I want to have my less disappointing child with you."

Our baby? Not as good as the pending Darlana (coming: next future!), but still a better knock-knock joke writer.

genius beggar

This is one way to get people to give you clothing.

sure-fire ways into wikipedia

1) the spaghetti dance
2) invention of "koi dressage" - which will most importantly consist of the fish head sticking out from the water, and carrying out the blowing of a kiss with fantastical coordination of a fin and fish lips. This can be performed singly or in battle formation.

i'm sorry. my id seems to be on your ego.

It wasn't me. Sometimes the id just has these more muscled-imp moments.

[Trapped listening to a conversation so tedious it was painful to drudge up memories of its competitors...]
dude: "You look like you're thinking about something."
me: "I do that." (Congratulate self for not blurting out cheap and obvious, 'Unfamiliar expression for you, isn't it?')
dude: "So, what're you thinking about?"
id: That question requires punishment for multiple reasons.
me: "I was debating internally if the mere challenge of determining anything equal in sheer dullness to this entire interaction was, beautifully, actually making it intriguing. Or not."
dude: "I don't get it."

See. So I don't even have to feel badly.

Because that was straight, cold-ass bitch.

the photos, they speaksies

Just living a full life, along with all y'all.

dear future dependents

I just wanted to let my potential eventual berbies know that at one time their mother had to handle such serious issues as this, from my co-worker:

Hi Everyone,

If you have my voice changing megaphone please return it to me…no questions asked. The future of this company depends upon it.

Best,

Keith

So, berbies, I guess you should totally expect me to be able to handle all else quite adeptly.

self-filter: off

Danger.

Danger will rogers you blind.

So as I was texting and waiting to cross the street last evening, I apparently had offended Mr. Thuglife Extraordinaire by standing precisely where he had hoped to walk into. Peripherally (avec mon giant peepers), I could see him standing directly in front of me, hoping to intimidate me into getting out of his precious way. Jarred unexpectedly from my engrossing text response, some Internal Dialogue slipped out.

"Oo, I'm so impressed with your little display of aggression." GLARE.

Grit teeth.

Okay, that's probably more than just the filter being off, but whatevs. Sometimes a person responds on an animal, instinctual level to an implied threat. Sometimes a person snarls. It's to be expected.

when least expected

So I'd been wanting to see Emi's commercial, to the extent that I'd even taking to watching t.v., but given that we don't have cable* and all of four channels, I'd fairly given up.

Then, the other night, I was actually eating something at home - making an actual dinner, in my own kitchen [gasp!] - and I heard, "Hey." Emi?

I turned just in time to see her on the tube, as in television, not the 'Mind the gap' variety. But we're still fairly fascinated that one little word was so distinctly identifiable.

*(because we "don't exist" according to the cable/internet company, and because when they realized we DO exist, they used this opportunity to fail repeatedly and suck up hours of my life and cell minutes, only to decide we - in fact - do not exist.)

finally - a thought i'm ashamed to have had

So in reading this article (alerted in AQ's blog), when I read this part:

Iraq accounted for the overwhelming number — with 27 of the suicides coming from that conflict and three from Afghanistan. Also, there were 948 attempted suicides, officials said, adding that they didn't have a comparison for previous years.

And thought, 'It's a wonder we aren't being decimated. These guys aren't even good at killing themselves.' Then, 'WOW, am I an aaa-haaaa-ass-HOLE.'

Not proud. But, what is the descriptor for this feeling?

poor choice in pre-proposition conversation

"c"/o a male cultural anthropologist

A: ...That's why men can't help how they are, not that they can't exercise self-discipline.

me: There's that.

A: It's just that by nature we, as males, are driven to spread our seed - to propagate the species - so must have many mates. Women, on the other hand, are after finding the strongest hunter/provider to reproduce with who then will also be able to protect her and their young.

me: Except, of course, that that's faulty logic because under that supposition each woman should also be looking for multiple mates so she could essentially develop a team of protectors. In theory, the female could also require all her mates to protect all her offspring equally well, using the safety of each male's offspring as leverage against the male, should he fail or attempt to decline.

A: That's an interesting point. [He looks away, moving his nearest shoulder away a good inch.]

me: Maybe that's just me.

A: Can I get you another drink?

me: [It won't help.]