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Enslaved by Ducks, Bob Tarte

Loving this - it's a story about a guy and his wife who acquire a bunny, which leads to a cat, then a bird, and eventually they own a small zoo. Pet stories! So great!

The Bonesetter's Daughter, Amy Tan

The Filth, Grant Morrison

I don't think I have taken enough mind-altering drugs in my lifetime to appreciate this comic. Seriously.

Check out:

Creepy. Really, really creepy and sad.



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Earthbound Disco Ball


Internet Persona
Mimi Smartypants

Miss Doxie
Mrs. Roboto
Peachy Keen
Perpetual Blonde
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Sarah Hepola
Scott Dierdorf
Subsequent Events
Uncle Bob


Wednesday, January 26, 2005

After $4400 worth of repairs, my Corolla was returned to me on Monday. "I'll try not to crash it for a day or two," I said to the receptionist at the collision center, as I handed her my credit card for the deductible. "Ha ha!" I added, because she had a worried look on her face, no doubt recalling me as the special customer who had their crumpled-up car towed back in one whole day after picking it up last time. "Ha ha," she responded, "that'll be $250".

I'm more than a little paranoid right now, driving. After years and years of no driving accidents, having 3 in the last few months has left me with zero confidence in my ability to make it from point A to point B without plowing into everything I encounter along the way. The rental I had for the last two weeks was a perfect fit for my new overly-cautious road navigation, it was a Mercury Sable, a Grampa Car if I ever saw one. The gear shift was on the steering column - where's my senior discount?

I had an awesome conversation with JB over AIM on Friday that I wish I would have saved, but it basically went like this:

JB: What do you want to do tonight?
Me: You think we should go to the body shop?
JB: ....sure.
Me: I wonder if I can get there in time.
JB: We could do that then eat dinner somewhere at Bellevue Square.
Me: ?
JB: What.
Me: That seems a little out of the way.
JB: ?
Me: Okayyy. Anyway, I'd like to do it today if possible rather than Monday.
JB: Why don't you just go on the weekend if you're shopping or whatever?
Me: Shopping? Why would I be shopping over there?
JB: Dude, you're the one that wants to go to the body shop.
Me: Because I HAVE to, that's all.

ETC for like, five minutes, because he thought I meant The Body Shop, not Lakeside Collision Center: Serving the Eastside for Over 50 Years.

Funnily enough, I actually did end up at The Body Shop on Sunday because I found what I thought was a gift card in an old purse. I puttered around picking up this and that, only to find out it was a membership card - d'oh! I probably would have passed on the slightly weird smelling cocoa butter conditioner, had I been clued in to that fact.

Body Shop employees are on commission, right? That's the only explanation I can come up with for the behavior of the very nice but slightly annoying girl who followed me around the store commenting on everything I looked at. "Do you like candles I like this one it has a really nice scent and the packaging says travel candle like you can take it to a hotel room or something but I burn these right at home and they smell great!" she rapid-fired as I contemplated a tin containing "Cool Water" flavored wax. "Also that shampoo works awesome on color treated hair I color my hair a lot and this stuff works great for dry hair it helps retain the color so when you have your hair done you don't feel like you just wasted your money know what I mean?"

While I was in a retail state of mind, I also cruised over to Sephora to check out a particular shade of blush Gael pimped on her site. Orgasm blush! How could I resist? Except I did, because it looked too pale somehow. But now that I go back and re-read Gael's comments ("...a gorgeous natural shade with some gold in it that apparently goes well with a variety of skin tones and hair/eye colors"), I'm convinced I made a mistake. I'd like some a that there gorgeous and natural, thanks.

In other news, JB and I watched Dodgeball last night (while eating french dip sandwiches for dinner - the kind with beef) which was immensely stupid and bad except for the part where it was sort of funny and good because it was so stupid and bad. If you've ever wondered whether or not a bonk! someone-got-hit-in-the-nads! joke can get old, rent Dodgeball, because the answer, perhaps surprisingly, is NO.

It's my favorite time of day during the week, the early evening when we pick out something to watch together - either TiVo or Netflix - and eat dinner. I'm sure it's a phenomenally bad habit to continually eat in front of the dim flicker of a television; I mean there's definitely a sort of uncivilized factor about it, not to mention the diet-blowing effects of not paying attention to whether or not you're full because you're too focused on today's episode of The Dog Whisperer or whatever. But still, I love making meals for us, I love watching something we're both entertained by, I love knowing it's only 7 and I have a good chunk of time ahead of me that isn't usurped by Workplace.

On that note, I think I'll see what's on. There are Fig Newtons in the kitchen, and they're alllll mine (ask JB about his fig-caused Death Gas. On second thought, perhaps you'd rather not).

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