May 30, 2007

chicken fingies

I read this article today about how chicken fingers/nuggets have become the scourge of the average american kid diet.

It reminded me of being eight years old and hating vegetable soup so much. My mom wouldn't let me leave the table until I ate my whole bowl. I distinctly remember, as the 7 o'clock hour crept past, frequently excusing myself to the bathroom with fist-fulls of soup to flush down the toilet.

Also on the enemies list were (and still are, natch) beef stew, anything slathered in gravy, the classic frozen peas n' carrots mix, cooked carrots in general, mushrooms, onions, and brown potatoes.

I hate cooked carrots, but at least I know why. Without struggle, there is no progress & all that.

May 23, 2007


Apparently there's a phenomenon going on out there on the interwebs called lolCats .

From what I understand they're just pictures of cats with silly or absurd captions alluding to the cats' (or other animals) intentions or desires with amusing misspellings.

Good for a larf.

I Can Has Cheezburger?

Meme Cats


(Links ganked from the Wikipedia entry on LOLcats.)

Georgia Rule (the only rule is it must be random)

I was going to write a long review of a pretty crappy movie I saw recently (Georgia Rule) but I decided it wasn't worth an actual review with plot and stuff, well because there wasn't much of a plot. I'll just say that Lindsay Lohan played herself, a bratty and promiscuous (let's face it, I really mean obnoxious and slutty) young lady (well, not so much a lady as sexual organs with legs) named Rachel, Felicity Huffman played her alcoholic momma, and Jane Fonda played her rather stern, but confused, gramma. I say confused because throughout the movie she made people put soap in their mouths when they took the "Lord's name in vain," but 5 minutes after being reunited with Lindsay, I mean Rachel, after 13 years, she tells her granddaughter to "go fuck yourself." Doesn't add up, unless Gramma is a little senile.

Randomness ensued.

Um, let's see. The village idiot falls in love with Lindsay, I mean Rachel, and wants to marry her after she gives him a BJ. He makes her go with him to tell his girlfriend, which wastes at least ten minutes of the movie. Wow, we get it, Lindsay, I mean Rachel, is hot stuff.

So Lindsay, I mean Rachel, gets into a fight with a 12 year old boy, who gets a boner while rolling around with her in the grass. Pointless part of the movie, unless it is supposed to show just how hot Lindsay, I mean Rachel, is supposed to be. Like it takes much for a 12 year old boy.

Also, Lindsay, I mean Rachel, is dressed in the ugliest clothes they could find, like denim booty shorts rolled up and white patent leather platform sandals. And tight, low cut tank tops. Is this girl from Sunset Blvd. or San Francisco? Again, we get it (pounded into our heads), Lindsay, I mean Rachel, is the hottest thing to hit Idaho since, well, the sun.

She likes poetry, which I guess is supposed to soften her character, but that is lame, lame, lame.

All of a sudden, the plot-that-never-was thickens! Lindsay, I mean Rachel, in a kind of battle- of-who-has-the-saddest-life with the town doctor (he lost his wife and son in a car accident) blurts out that her stepfather(played by Cary Elwes; let's call him Wesley, shall we?) started sleeping with her at the age of 12. Tough call on the winner of that battle.

The rest of the movie pretty much consists of the village idiot, the doctor, the senile gramma, and drunken momma trying to figure out if she was lying about the whole thing. I guess we were supposed to be figuring it out as well, but I didn't care. I knew we would be force-fed the truth eventually.

(Oh yeah, there is a tiny subplot about how Lindsay, I mean Rachel, was supposed to go to Vassar, but she fucked-up the paperwork. Big surprise. Even bigger surprise: Lindsay, I mean Rachel, who has been a druggie (she smoked crank, according to momma) and a general loser since the age 14, would be accepted into Vasser, who by their own account, is "very selective." Biggest surprise of all: that she would be accepted last minute; don't they have a wait list at that school?)

We meet the Ferrari-driving stepfather, who of course denies the whole thing. Oh yeah, gramma decides it would be best for Lindsay, I mean Rachel, to stay at the doctor's apartment. She tries to sneak into his bed and have sex with him. I think it was just an excuse to dress her in lingerie. At this point, I'm not sure if they are trying to convince us that she views everything as sexual because she was abused, or if we are supposed to sympathize with her step-Wesley, like maybe she came onto him, like she seems to come on to everybody, from the village idiot to the town doctor. I wouldn't think that about a 12 year old, but some people might.

Then Lindsay, I mean Rachel, tells momma that she was lying, secretly blackmails Wesley with the threat that a friend had hid in her closet and videotaped him and that if her mom ever finds out the truth she will take him to court for $10 million, and then sends momma on back to San Fran with Wes. Hubbinawah??? She wants her mom's happiness over justice? Seems kind of gross to let your mom live with a child molester, but that's not for me to say.

On the way home, momma asks where Wes's beloved Ferrari is. He offhandedly tells her that he left it in Idaho and that L, I mean R, can have it. This leads to momma's realization that L, I mean R, was telling the truth. She gets out, Wes yells at her that L, I mean R, came onto him (gross!) and that they will never be able to prove anything, and momma starts walking back toward Idaho.

All of a sudden, the village idiot's truck pulls up, carrying said idiot, senile gramma, the doctor, and L, I mean R; except they made her sit in the truck bed with the village idiot's much smarter dog, which I think is hilarious. She jumps out and runs to her momma, throwing her arms around her.

The end. I don't recommend this movie.

Well, look at that. The review ended up being long anyways.

May 20, 2007

Weekend PSA

So I like to run, it has it's advantages. But it has it's pitfalls as well. Leslie vs. the ditch, Leslie vs. the water hose, Leslie vs. the cars that run the stopsign, Leslie vs. the green snake (aiyeeee), and (my personal fav) Leslie vs. the heckling kids waiting to get on the school bus at o'dark thirty.

Whatever your outdoor adventure of choice is, you can never be sure just what's waiting for you around the corner. Soo check out this funny video. I'm just waiting to run through one of these.

May 15, 2007

This Week in "Not for Nothing" (TWiNN): The Death of Jerry Falwell

Not for nothing, but I can't help but not be the least bit sad over the passing of Jerry Falwell.

That guy was a dick. Here's hoping he's on that big waterslide to hell.

May 11, 2007

Back Amongst the (Sorta) Productive

I hounded Leslie endlessly to finish this piece for me, stemming from a cellphone conversation some months back, as I was driving home from yet another job interview; and I'm just now getting around to using it.
Anyway, there was some kind of discussion about how she had me listed in her cellphone as "Pony" (a fairly innocuous nickname we call eachother), and how once when riding in the car with her cousin, her cousin was bewildered that a Pony was calling her on the phone.
We laughed (probably too long) about the thought of her cousin imagining an actual pony making a phone call, and then somehow the conversation morphed into a pony going on a job interview. And the idea of a pony in a business suit apprehensive about an interview at a glue factory just about summed up my job hunt that has mercifully come to an end.
After too many crappy interviews to recount, I finally got a job, and started work about two months ago. I'm very happy to say that I'm no longer working in a "terrestrial" radio station---and can now loudly advocate Sirius Satellite Radio to everyone in the land. No, I don't work for Sirius Satellite Radio either. I just like it a whole lot.
Anyway, I now work in a hospital, but not in any sort of medical capacity, and that's about as specific I'd like to get about my actual position.
But I can say that it's been an adjustment, working in a hospital. I couldn't help but feeling eerily similar to when I showed up at college. There's an overwhelming sense of "they", that there's some shadowy consortium working the knobs & switches behind the curtain that makes this whole place run. There's also a department, vice president, director, manager, supervisor, and then finally regular staffers for just about everything. And, most like college, it's not entirely out-of-the-ordinary to look up from your desk and see someone passing by in not much more than their underwear and socks.

May 7, 2007

Penguin Palooza!

So for the past two weeks at my job I've been making penguins left and right. I've drawn over 50, but some of them weren't cute enough to make the work cut. They looked a little sad. You'd be sad to if you were drafted into the military, when you were supposed to be dancing and eating fish all day! So, here's the undrafted penguins for no other reason than I spent alot of time on them and I figured they deserved their celebrity as much as the others!

May 5, 2007

Deleted Posts eek!

So the other day during a particularly grouchy mood, I posted a comment on truth and how it seems to harm and not help people. Which in my experience in recent months seems to be true.

Example: Lady at job wears prom dresses to work sometimes. In my mind, I'm thinking - is that taffeta? Are those sequins? Maybe, possibly someone should say something. That's the TRUTH voice speaking. But the other voice says - this person is nice, confident, and works well. How would lowering her self esteem benefit her in anyway? How would I feel if someone felt my attire was inappropriate? (Especially given the tight parameters we are stuck in anyways.) So - no truth, no harm.

I'm not saying go out and blatantly lie - but maybe sometimes selective withholding maybe a better course of action than letting all the info out into the open all the time.