So, what now?

So tonight, I was messing around with Audacity because I have decided that I am, on top of a full time job, full time school, and a resurging home business, going to write and record my own music. I can’t even find matching shoes to wear to work! I wore one black shoe and one brown shoe all day today. I didn’t realize until I was on the elevator and by then, it was too late.

So, anyways, in my own special brand of cart before the horse, I am playing around with the mixing software before actually writing the songs or perfecting an instrument. For fun, I took the first vocal track and raised the pitch several full steps. It sounds like a precocious little girl singing on one of those “most talented kid” contests. You can imagine the little girl, sweet Laura Ashley dress, crooning to the ceiling about love and sex and deceit and making it sound like 4th grade recess. I named the song “Mommy’s Little Darling” as a tribute to stage moms everywhere. It’s better than my first choice of “Patsy’s Patsy.” (Ouch, that’s pretty low, even for me.)

Here you are good people of the internet...or villi and p00per

Cheese it! It's the cops

So, the nachoisms that I posted in July or something have been, behind my back, placed on their own blogger page and entered as a wikipedia article. Although I am pretty sure I’m not on my way to international celebrity, it does mean there is a greater paper trail that leads back to me. I think this means I will have to start tempering this site – no more veiled threats against the president and no discussing why I love grape Otter Pops because they remind me of when I was 7 and would fake any illness just to drink Dimetapp straight from the bottle, like a little 3rd grade Rush Limbaugh.

In the spirit of my new, milder posts, I would just like to say that I hate HATE lotioned tissues. They make your lips all greasy and odd feeling and you can’t even use them as a napkin substitute.

Would you stand up and walk out on me?

There is a delicious little fluffy rumor floating around the internet about Osama (or is it Usama?) bin Laden’s apparent obsession with Whitney Houston. A poet/novelist who also claims to have been Osama’s sex slave is saying that he was obsessed with Whitney Houston and wanted to marry her. This interesting bit of gossip also states that Osama also threatened to kill Bobby Brown. Now, not that it makes up for 9/11, but…

Actually, the part of the story I find interesting is where they talk about Osama’s favorite western TV shows, MacGyver, Miami Vice and, inexplicably, The Wonder Years. Now, the first two shows seem like the type of shows that any crazed, insanely rich, terrorist mastermind would enjoy, but The Wonder Years? I find it hard to believe that anyone who watched Kevin and Winnie grow and change and love would still think that America (at least America circa 1960) was full of infidels.

Clever, little minx

So, aside from thinking this JonBenet Ramsey arrest is totally bullshit, I have a question after reading an article on cnn.com about his extradition hearings.

Apparently, John Mark Karr has outstanding charges in California that have been withdrawn so that he doesn’t have to face charges in California. When he inevitably doesn’t match the DNA that was under JonBenet’s fingers and in her panties, does that mean he doesn’t have to face the charges in California?

If so, is this guy a criminal genius or what? Fly overseas, cop to a crime you didn’t commit that will get you extradited to a state when you also face charges, have those charges dropped, and then be acquitted of the crime in Colorado and walk out of the whole situation a free man.

This whole arrest is just strange and surreal and feels very unrealistic and fake to me. I do realize that the Boulder Police bungled this investigation about as badly as they could and it certainly leaves the possibility for a killer that no one knew or even suspected to show up a decade later and be guilty, but I just don’t buy it.

The father, the son, the holy ghost - which MC do you like the most?

I believe in the trinity, or at least in the power of the number three. It has always been a deeply superstitious and interesting number to me. New concepts, ideas, and words tend to present themselves to me in threes. After two car accidents, two deaths, or two baroque cathedrals burning to the ground in the middle of the night, I always look for the third occurrence. I am convinced there has to be the trifecta.

Just yesterday, we were likening the level of our employees to the choir of angels. Sales is the lowest choir, or the Ophanim, support and professional services are the second choir, or Cherubim, and the developers are the highest choir of angels, or the Seraphim. We were discussing how to pronounce Ophanim and that is should be just like Seraphim and Cherubim.

Then, last night, Villi and I were watching $40 a Day on the food channel and Rachael Ray went to the Café Cherubim, but pronounced it cher-OOB-im. It was really funny. I am now just sitting around waiting for the third reference to the second choir of angels to make the series complete. I don’t know how likely that is, this far from Valentine’s Day, but I’ll keep an eye peeled.

Just cause a guy likes comics, he can't start some shit?

I don't know why I feel like all the titles have to be movie lines. Ok, I lied, I absolutely know why; it's so that people who google movie lines, like myself, may stumble upon my blog, read it, and post comments telling me how very cool I am. There is something to be said when you stumble upon someone who finds the exact same throwaway line in a movie as hilarious and memorable as you did. It feels a little fate-y. Even though your sensible side tells you this isn't a deep connection, it is hard to deny that instant connection.

Anyhow, the reason I choose that movie line is because I am going to post a comic I did into this here blog. I am a terrible artist, so I have to do all my comics in like MSPAINT and add text boxes and other insulting things. It's sad that I cannot draw, because I have exactly the mentality and humor for 3-4 panel comic strips. Anyhow, enjoy!



Fuck, I can't get a popup window in blogger and I don't know jack about HTML, so here is the link to the full size comic. The sad thing is, it isn't even that good and certainly didn't warrant all that work.

Why was your Uncle microwaving your socks?

Because he can’t get the goddamn washing machine to work.

I seriously hope the fix-it repair guy can get the washing machine working. Today, I am wearing paint splattered yoga pants and a red pajama top. The top usually matches up with flannel snowflake printed pajama bottoms, but I am straight up out of clothes. I don’t seem to be capable of spending 50 minutes sitting against the washer door to hold it closed. It is just too much work and, personally, I would rather show up to work looking homeless than use my time in that manner.

Game, Set, Matching His and Her Towels

I totally fucking won! LNT, for whatever reason, has decided to appease me. They won't say that I was right, so my guess is that policy does actually dictate that gift cards cannot be returned by the original purchaser, which is still stupid, but whatever. I get my $150 back.

It's funny, MFS used to be a manager at Target and I think he is deeply offended by my behavior. Apparently, most stores have a policy about accepting returns of gift cards. He gets really quiet and sort of defensive when I mention my battle. I think he feels like I'm the asshole in this situation, and I have no right attacking that manager. I don't really care. Their policy is not well documented and they probably know, legally, that trying to pass off redeem = return in court would be roundly attacked and dismissed.

But, Target knows-

"*e-GiftCards are not redeemable for cash and cannot be returned for a refund."

If the phrase "cannot be returned for a refund" had been on my gift card or receipt, I would have left the store in an embarrassed state and admitted defeat.

Uh Oh - Baby Luigi Time

GAHHHHH. I am so tired of answering questions. It is very frustrating and I am getting all bitter and annoyed and I spend the day wishing I were home with my doggies, reading a book and drinking some wine. Instead, I get a sore neck and an insuppressible urge to blow up Linens ‘n’ Things.

Did I tell you about my fight against Linens ‘n’ Things? It has consumed my whole world. I purchased a gift card from there about a month ago and have since decided that the amount of the gift card was altogether too much and wanted to return it. I have my receipt that says I paid $150 for a gift card on 7/22 and that I also bought some chairs and tables that day as well. Guess what? They won’t accept the gift card as a return. The stupid bitch manager just kept pointing to the redemption information on the back of the card. “Yes, bitch, I can read, but those rules really apply to the person REDEEMING the card, you whore.” The card cannot be redeemed for cash and I understand that. However, I BOUGHT the fucking card, just like any other piece of merchandise in their store, so I don’t understand why it is subject to its own rules (rules that are not detailed on the receipt or otherwise). I should, as a consumer, have the right to return any product that stops meeting my requirements. I have the documentation (receipt) and the card hasn’t be used, so why can’t I return it and get my money back? Well, LNT has been most uncooperative on this matter, so I decided to kick it up a notch. Since I bought the gift card on my sexy AMEX Gold card, I decided to dispute the charge through them.

I’m hoping that my story, coupled with previous attempts to settle the matter directly with LNT, will inspire American Express to advocate on my behalf. And if not, at least I get to make someone’s life a living hell at LNT for a few weeks.

Just 10 minutes ago, I was starting to wonder if I should have disputed the charge, and was thinking about calling AMEX and cancelling the dispute, but just typing this out and thinking about that smug, fucking manager made me positive that this was the right solution. I will keep everyone posted on how this works out.

Congratulations to Villi for the purchase of her smokin’ hot 2007 Mazda 3. It is a slick little trick; it will serve her well.

Like a polaroid picture...of a baby

Today, at work, when we weren't working, we were talking about the new ad campaign called 'Don't shake the baby,' at http://www.dontshake.com/. The site's purpose is obvious - don't shake your fucking baby - because they could get Shaken Baby Syndrome (SBS) and be permanently brain damaged. I have decided that "shake the baby" will be a euphemism for a short term solution that totally fucks things up in the long term. For example- "Yeah, well he got the left blinker on the car working, but screwed up the transmission in the process. He really shook the baby on that one."

Feel free to pass it on.

In shaker related news, I have to mention how much I hate the phrase 'shake it like a salt shaker.' It's a god-damned salt shaker; it's supposed to shake. I think it is the repetition of shaker in this phrase that makes me hate it so much.