Monthly Archives: December 2002

I guess a bunch of you guys went wild on the “Random blog” link over there on the left, and somehow you all ended up at Relapsed Catholic. She got enough hits from Fussy to warrent a polite visit here … Continue reading →

This morning Jack was inspired to seek revenge on the people who gave Jackson a toy firetruck with real working 100-decibel siren by calling them on the phone at 7:30 a.m. while the aforementioned siren was blaring in the background. … Continue reading →

“Isn’t it time to try something new? Loretta Lynn wants us to ‘put the Christ back in Christmas.’ I say let’s give Jesus a break.” Happy Dean Martin Death Day.

Perfect for happy hour at the playground! And Jackson’s “David Lynch indie tee” is, of course, is perfect for all occasions. Thanks again, S. B.!

I just had the lamest conversation with a telemarketer. Telemarketer: “I’d like to help you save money by switching your long distance service to MCI.” Me: (shit) “We’re not really interested in switching right now.” Tele.: “Ma’am, our service is … Continue reading →

My Recurring Dreams Interrupted while masturbating. This is a classic. Just can’t get the job done. People keep walking in on me, no matter what closet I hide in. (Closet = symbol for something really obvious? Must look into this.) … Continue reading →

I was checking my stats this morning (which have taken a formidable dip lately, I guess abandoning my post for three weeks didn’t do much for my popularity), when I noticed an unfamiliar linker. So I checked out her site, … Continue reading →

This is me waking up this morning and going, “Well, gee, we’re all unpacked, the laundry can be put away, I guess I should glue my desk back together, and HOLY GUACAMOLE WHY DIDN’T ANYONE TELL ME CHRISTMAS IS ONLY … Continue reading →

Away for Three Weeks Lilypads of mold flourish in my coffee pot; plants, though, are crispy.

One nice thing about new paint on the walls is that all the crap we had previously nailed up is down on the floor — paintings, posters, photos . . . even the curtains are balled up in garbage bags. … Continue reading →