Stuck In My Haid!

C'mon...sing with me!




Ok, not too bad! We were supposed to sound like this, though:





Ach! It is *still* stuck in my head!

...this is like fucking disco Bananaphone. Srsly. Imagine this with Daddy Cool.

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Ancodia At Her Shallowest!

Meg did not win her HOE tourney, but she did Quite Respectably. I have been teasing her that she is in the Top ## HOEs in the world.

…that’s Hold ‘Em, Omaha, Eight or Better (seven-card stud). I would tell you where Meg finished, but I am sure it will be up on a website somewheres.

That being said, I am going to have a suck-ass time at work tomorrow; all of our Powers That Be are off to a conference in China, and that leaves us here holding down the fort and trying to be productive. Whee.

Knowing how much I *adore* Thierry Mugler (even though I was at first underwhelmed by Alien, I have come to like it…though never as much as Angel. Ever.), an old friend directed me to this site (Warning: NSFW. Or Small Eyes. Or pets.). I think he might possibly be wearing fugly Crocs (or at best socks and sandals, as one comment suggested, though I thought ‘Crocs!’ when I first saw it). Hold me.

Okay, what he has done to himself is ghastly (his face specifically; whether that is from ‘wrinkle-fillers’ or HGH as some comments have suggested, it is sad), though by all reports he is a phenomenally kind, nice man, and I will go to my grave still believing that he is an absolute genius, style-wise.

Well, except for that footwear. Bad, bad choice. Meh. But like I should talk, I guess. One thing that *did* make me happy is that it sounds like Mugler is re-opening his design house, at least in some capacity this Fall. I will wait to be actually happy, though; one, I am not completely fashion-absorbed; I just find some aspects fascinating. Two, I am sure it will somehow get mucked up, cos I am a depressive realist.

Butsoanyway.

Romeo is doing ok; he sits a lot and purrs a lot. He seems to be largely happy-ish, and no, I really do not think his purring is anything other than happiness; he does not sit and purr for No Reason, he sits and purrs when he is beside me and I am petting him, or have been, or have my hand on him. I just got up to get him a half a Tagamet, and he went on and put himself to bed. He is a good Measle.

Everyone else is ok; My brother and his family left to visit his wife’s family on Thursday. We had several nice visits, though. I went with Mummers to see No Reservations Saturday night because one of her friends cancelled on her, and then we had a not-too-bad Mexican dinner. The movie was completely formulaic, but it was cute. Call me crazy, but What’shisname’s hair (the guy from Thank You For Smoking) was distractingly atrocious (did they not want to have two dark-headed lead actors, or something?). The cut was bad enough (it looked like he was trying to grow out a modified Carol Brady shag!!), but that colour job was pretty bad as well (in some shots looking like the Fakest-Looking Highlights on Earth), and Catherine Zeta-Jones called more than a few of Meg Ryan’s facial expressions into play (or maybe I just like Meg Ryan ‘cos she reminds me so of *my* Meg that I am seeing her everywhere). And he wore Crocs. Orange ones. Très hideux. But a cute movie. If I told you the set-up, you could tell me the ending, though. Wait for video and save your money.

I have to get to sleep; Meg arrives early tomorrow morning, but my neck is *killing* me. I am taking one hour of that soporific that is Rock of Love with Bret Michaels; those are some nasty, scary womenfolk. Some of them are strippers. Shocker. But they do get bonus points for correctly pronouncing (though not for *using*; that was a ghey idea) ‘plethysmograph’, and I think Magdalena is a guy. Her voice is making me hot. ;-) And Lacey’s hair when she is giving side commentary looks a great deal like mine (Meg mentioned it last weekend, and I am deciding if that was a veiled insult. Heh. Though I have not been able to do the fun colours for Quite Some Time now). Perhaps it is time for me to get rid of it…I might have Skank Style hair now. Who knows?

What is really scary is that if I were to give Chrissy (cat rescuing Chrissy) a full frontal lobotomy and a drinking problem and then let the Ladies of Skank Central make her over, she could be a double for Tiffany. I do not know if that is a compliment, or not; I am not going to share this with Chrissy, 'cos I love her.

Why, oh why do I get into these shows? Why? I do not even LIKE Bret Michaels, and actually had no idea who he was – Meg had to tell me. A ‘Rock God’? VH1, quit trying to make me laugh. And I could not name a song by Poison if my life depended upon it. Well, before last weekend, when Meg and I watched RoL, and she told me that song that was playing was Poison (she could not think of one before that either), which only makes sense, seeing as it was on RoL. It was that ‘don’t need nothing but a good time’ song (whatever it is called…Good Time, maybe?), but as god is my witness, had I been asked for the artist’s name prior to that, my response would have been something along the lines of ‘How in the fuck should I know?’, followed by some guesses like Kiss, Bon Jovi, Ratt, or Quiet Riot. Blecch. All those songs SOUND THE SAME. HELLO.

And I like Rodeo (out of a very wanting field) best, but she needs to Botox that neck. Please. For the love of Elvis. Seriously.

Oh, I have to quit watching this crap.

Though I Hate My 30’s looks cute, as does one other show that I cannot remember right now, and do not have the time to watch, anyway.

Well, RoL is ending (why on Earth do some of these girls have tattoos from head to toe? Ugh!), and I *have* to get some sleep. Seriously.

Thus ends my Ancodia At Her Shallowest Post. We should do this more often. ;-)

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Look Skyward, Moron!

Driving home, I thought of this skit for No Reason Whatsoever and ended up giggling like a nut the rest of the way back; I am amazed that I found it on You Tube:




What the hell?

It is not over yet!!!

Here: Take the Christmas carol quiz!

Wow, was I angry.

Meg left for another trip, and decided to not answer her cell for almost four hours. I probably wouldn’t have noticed, but I tried to phone her to ask where she left Harry The Cat’s Pill Pockets (he likes chicken, where Romeo likes salmon), and I started to worry when she wouldn’t answer the phone, so I sent my usual ‘I’m getting worried’ series of text messages every thirty minutes or so…and didn’t get an answer until *finally* she answered her phone about ten minutes shy of a full four hours. I was worried because that’s not like her — she’s usually pretty good about keeping in touch. Then she tried to sell me on some crap about how her cell must not have been getting signal etc., as if I were incapable of discerning the difference between a cell phone call that is being delivered to the handset and one which isn’t because of no signal/being powered off. Nice try.

I told her that the next time she wanted to take a break to get laid, just shoot me a text message and shut the damn thing fully off.

Butsoanyway.

I spent all today (now yesterday) totally alone at work (eight hours, Job 2; the three hours I was at Eviljob early this morning were hours which were unfortunately jam-packed with company), which was weird; I was *supposed* to have had a co-worker helping me with our suite of equipment, but he was a no-call, no-show…which was odd for him. He’s been acting a little odd in general over the past week, and I don’t know what is up with him. My boss slipped and told me that he was diagnosed as being clinically depressed (which is kinda obvious), and I think that with the semester over, he is just imploding.

I ended up asking our resident Wacky Divorcée to help me out and play Victim. :-) We had a lot of fun. Well, we ended up talking a lot. I like her; she’s…well…wacky. She’s older, and just has this amazing way about her—she’s funny and awesome. Eventually I will have to get around to describing everyone, but for now I have to get to sleep.

Harry The Cat is doing better, by the way. Better is good. :-)

I was going to post this yesterday, but fell asleep. Yes, that’s correct: I fell asleep sitting up at my computer. Please do not ask how I managed that one. Today I had off (sort-of), which is one of the perqs involved in working for (at the end of the money chain) the RCMP—one gets holidays up the wazz, although I usually have too much to get done to actually take advantage of those holidays.

Today I ended up sleeping late (I am beyond exhausted; there is not a *word* for what I am) and just going to my (new-ish) chiropractor. No, I don’t fully subscribe to all that hooey; chiropractic does not cure deafness, or any of the other wild and wacky claims made by D.D. or B.J. Palmer. But it does help with some pain and range-of-motion issues, which I have loads of, because my neck has no curve like normal people have—this means I have muscle pain, headaches (especially tension headaches, which are on *top* of the migraines I get), and occasional stiffness that is a tad more frequent than the majority of the population who all have a nice little cervical lordosis going on up there.

And yes, I have multiple x-rays, made throughout the years which show that my cervical bones are ruler-straight. It was actually discovered in an emergency room when I was seventeen and had just been in a car accident (one which had just totalled my virst car, and no, I wasn’t at-fault), and in case anyone is completely anti-chiropractic, it was MDs who first brought it to my attention, and my father looked at those first radiographs as well, as have other physicians. So the answer to my most often-asked sceptical question is no—I wasn’t diagnosed by a chiropractor, nor have I only seen chiropractors about it.

Butsoanyway.

So since I have no one to give me neck massages, I started going to a chiropractor about a month ago; he is a Life graduate (the first I have been to; for all my razzing on D.D. and B.J., I actually prefer Palmer graduates—it’s just so damnably easy to razz on D.D. and B.J. :-D); he’s a very funny, nice guy who looks like Danny DeVito’s older, taller brother, and he isn’t making extra money by being a freaky-assed homeopath, or anything psychotic like that. I flat-out refuse to patronise anyone nutty like that. Plus he is literally around the corner from my subdivision, and he’s on my PPO. The only thing that he ‘sold’ me on is taking Glucosamine, Chondroitin, and MSM supplements (which I picked up at the drugstore; he doesn’t sell them), and I think they are actually helping. Oh—and getting a more supportive pillow.

Butsoanyway.

It’s frustrating that I have such a hard time relaxing when I visit, though. I mean, I really have significant difficulty. I know that I must aggravate the crap out of him, but I really cannot help it; I am just one of those people who take an inordinate amount of time to relax, if it happens at all. Today was a bad day, and I didn’t really benefit at all, though he was funny. So that sucks. Except for the being funny part.

Then I went to feed the kitties, and the two remaining kittens ran up to me with their tails up. :-) With Harry being diagnosed with FeLV, I am now in more of a bind as far as they go—I have no one to take them, and would have to keep them in my house until I could re-release them…but I am now the proud owner of FIVE CATS. FIVE.

Just so you know, this pushes me WAY PAST the Glenn Beck measure of sanity. *WAY* past.

But then, so does everything else I do and am. :-D

So after that, I went shopping and did NOT buy anything I didn’t need, which includes a really cool-looking olive oil shampoo and conditioner set that I found (but, again, didn’t buy). But I did get a broccoli pasta thing, which I am cooking now. Yay. I love broccoli. And now I have to go—Brain Candy is on tonight, and I haven’t seen that in ages.

Oh—and—I have so far watched Jingle All The Way at least twenty times this season.

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made it through another day!

Yay.

I am tired of this template. I want to change it.

I want to compile a list of holiday movies (best or worst, I am still deciding). If anyone wants to contribute their faves, let me know.

I am having a craving for egg rolls with a certain type of sweet and sour sauce that a friend used to make. I think they may have put plum wine in it. I think I may try doing this.

After this past weekend, I can now look out my front window and see some really cool Holiday lights (my neighbours cross-the-way are Jewish, and they did holiday lights too, so they are Holiday Lights, not Christmas Lights). I may not have to go driving anywhere at all.

I am still going to go out driving.

When you drape some string of lights that I think Target is selling that are in the shape of a Star of David kinda loosely, it falls in the shape of a cool-ass bat. I have named this The Christmas Bat.

I wish I could name him Foamy, the Christmas Bat. The reference there being, of course, to rabies, but the name 'Foamy' is at-risk of being over-used. Plus, I love Foamy, and wouldna wanna steal his thunder...

Butsoanyway.

My foot feels better, but I am still sick. And I am *sweating*...bwaah!

I have to get up early tomorrow, and can't find it in my heart to tell Karen that I cannot help her any longer on her Final paper.

Auk!

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