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This is my blog, and it is dangerous. Do you think I want to die like this?





Monday, August 27, 2012

Another Package!

My friend Bunny Walker sent me a package! She's basically the best. Here's the box!

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Now THAT is how to set a tone!


Let's take a look inside.

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Not as disturbing as I'd originally expected. You're slipping, Walker.

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Ahh. Yes, I remember speaking about this now. I needed a pair of novelty glasses capable of providing a pea soup view of the world, as well as a nearly deadly leaf pin to wear to the ... thing. in the kitchen.

For years I've wondered if a single-serve sample of peach parfait lip stuff existed - my proof is now before me. Who doesn't like a Hello Kitty-eating shark? Plus, a new friend, who brings along with her a smaller new friend.

Plus, you can never have too many pictures of half-crazed women in lingerie showing you ketchup. Just like you can't have too many of these:

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Now, I know what you're thinking...

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... and why you're thinking it!

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But I'm really just excited to have two new friends. That's all.

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Don't worry. I'm just trying to figure out why my eyebrows keep growing.



Also, you need to do this. It's really fricking addictive.

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Monday, August 20, 2012

Hey, a story.

The next story I'd actually planned to tell you was about cat. But when I started writing it, I realized it was taking me an inordinate length of time to explain the logistics of how I'd ended up in that room with that cat, so I started hating writing it because it felt forced or flat or I was too lazy. It's really hard to tell at this point with all the vodka.

Anyway, this time, I'll tell you a story about seeing a famous person in a desperately ordinary place.

Allow me to back up a little, though. I used to have a bead obsession so crippling, I'd drive over an hour to little shop in an unnecessarily fancy little town in NJ named Lambertville - right over the bridge from New Hope, PA, which is an unnecessarily artsy little town - just to sit in front of dozens and dozens of tiny drawers and containers of loose beads, so I could open each one, pick the beads I wanted, count them not-so-carefully, place them into tiny bags, then carry them home with me with the sort of delight that can only be measured in units of squee.

I loved two other things about that town besides the bead shop - the coffee shop that served an iced mocha with cinnamon and ice cubes made out of espresso, and a pizzeria named Giuseppe's.

I'd usually drag someone with me on these excursions, not only because there was a really fricking stellar flea market on the way, but also because I hate eating pizza by myself like some sort of sad psychotic. This particular trip, I'd dragged along my ex-boyfriend, whom for these purposes, we'll call Johnny.

Johnny and I entered the pizzeria and walked past the tables to the back of Giuseppe's to order at the counter. Once we arrived there, my ex turned to me, his eyes wild.

"That's that actress!" he hissed into my face. I stared blankly. "I can't think of her name! She's famous! GO LOOK!" he continued.

I shrugged. "Get me a salad with french dressing on the side and a slice," I replied before walking almost all the way to the front of the restaurant to get the best view of the occupied tables.

I turned around, and tried as casually as possible to look at everyone there. I spotted her. I whipped my head back to Johnny, who was still at the counter, staring at me with "Fuck, right? FUCK!" eyeballs.

"Oh. my. GOD." I mouthed to him before I sat down to do my best work at not staring conspicuously. It was definitely her - no makeup, sitting there drinking out of a paper cup, at a pizzeria in the middle of NJ, but definitely her.

Johnny walked back to join me and said in the loudest whisper allowed by law to still be considered a whisper said, "That is so Sarah Jessica Parker!"

"Subtle." I thought. With that, SJP stood up, guzzled the rest of her drink and had a brief argument with her dining companions (looked to be parental) about who would carry the bags out of the restaurant before she waltzed out, never to cross my dirty, working class path again.

And as usual, the pizza was fucking awesome.


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Monday, August 13, 2012

I Play Sims (part40)

(approximately five Sim minutes later...)

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What happened while he was out?

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That's right, Stanley ... and it explains everything.

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I Play Sims (part41)
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Monday, August 6, 2012

I Play Sims (part39)

Well, things are getting kinda weird.

For one thing, Frida has displayed a sudden and drastic change in clothing style.

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I have my suspicions about how this came about, though.

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This also explains why Rachel has taken to sleeping anywhere else but her master suite.

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There seems to be a lot of bed confusion happening in general in the Rosenzweig home.

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Finally, there's a new guy in town and he's straight up running around in a tuxedo with a gun.

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Meet Logan:

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Gee. I wonder where this new mystery man lives.

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Oh, well that's interesting information.

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Suri runs over to greet her new neighbor - in a bathing suit. Because reasons?

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I will never understand the mating rituals of the young.


I Play Sims (part40)
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