All Things Profane and Sacred

I have the pants! I first saw the pants a few weeks ago when I was visiting J on laundry day. He was wearing these wonderfully soft and fuzzy grey pants that looked so freaking comfortable that I just about died. I have this thing for comfy pants ya know.

So I've been eyeing them ever since. Struck. Pant obsessed. I knew I had to get into those pants. He's been increasingly protective of them, but he finally slipped up.

This morning the pants were on my floor long after he left for work. What I wasn't planning for is that the pants would be way too big.

My motto is that pants are never too big-if they have legs I can make them fit. But J has 10 inches and 100 pounds on me. The comfort factor was lost, and it would be kinda bitchy to take them in since I'm sure he'll catch on eventually and force the pants out of me. Shit.

This is how Mr. Hertzfeldt feels about people ripping off his shit:

"Illegal copies of the films on disc can also be bought on the internet, peddled by men and women with hairy backs and leaking pieces who apparently want to see poor little Don go hungry. They will all burn in a smokey gurgling hell. It will not be pretty. Their eyes will go, gooooosh and their hair will be irritated with the wrong kind of shampoo and they will make sad pouting faces with their little mouths forming perfect O's (as in, wooooooo!) because their skin will be torn into little cracker chunks by big angry bees and the dogs who appear in clouds of mysterious vapors. "Woooooo!!" they will say, 'Wooooo, I should not have bootlegged Don's films and now Jesus is kicking my ass.'"

. . .which is funny, because I feel that way about a lot of different people-I just never had the words to express it. Would it be wrong to rip off a rant about people ripping shit off?

All my fine procrastination has reaped a crop of busyness. Woe unto thee, O Procrastinator. For you shall knash your teeth whilst paying a tangle of bills, make unpleasant noises whilst driving from errand to errand and rip at your hair whilst staring at your goddamned admin book.

And no, I am not bitching-I am bragging.

No blogging these past few days-it's not that I haven't been doing anything, but that I've been doing too much. Bowling on Thursday, Dark Tower reading on Friday, lazing about the house in a warm naked haze on Saturday and a trip to Bagby hotsprings today. Now I need to catch up on this weeks reading, pay some bills and return to my warm fuzzy haze for the rest of the evening.

Today's word is tromboning: a sexual act when a male/female kneels behind their male partner and licks his anus while giving him an hand job.

Knowledge truely is power.

I've been seeing a native Oregonian, which means I've reverted back to saying Or-gon (the way we pronounce it back home) as opposed to Or-y-gun (the way they pronounce it here) just to annoy (see first blog entry for more on the Or-gon/Or-y-gun distinction). Anyhow. I saw this political commercial on a ballot initiative (I believe it was proposition 36), the gist of which was that out of staters put this thing on the ballot and were pouring money into boonswaggling the good people of Orygun.

Now, I don't know anything about the initiative, but interestingly the evil out-of-towner in the commercial kept saying Or-y-gon. So now I can feel a delicious thrill of evil every time I say Or-gon like the evil out-of-towner I am.

This is why I hate calling home-

So I called my mom's the other day to wish my baby brother a happy 20th birthday (and tell him his present would be late). I get my mom first, who tells me about all the doom and gloom that has befallen the family since the last time I yakked at them (to give credit, it was an impressively long list). Then she said, "You really need to lecture your brother. He's been smoking meth."

WTF? At what point do you decide it's a really good idea to start smoking meth? Are you like, "Gee, I need a new hobby. I think I'll do something that will suck all my money out of the bank and reduce me to a toothless hillbilly who subsists by stealing cars and licking lint off the sidewalk." So, like a good big sister, I told him I was going to fly out there and break his little meth smoking fingers if he didn't immediately desist. Then I expounded on this theme by letting him know that he didn't need to lose his teeth due to massive meth consumption, they could just as easily be removed by my fist hitting his mouth. That's just the sort of afterschool special relationship we have.

What the hell is up with this? http://www.qctimes.com/internal.php?story_id=1035268&l=1&t=Columnists&c=47,1035268 Iowa is a very very strange place.

We have a Lincoln Innuendo winner! Congrats go to V for suggesting "Hey baby, wanna tour the Lincoln bedroom with Papa Abe?" Runners up include R with "Wanna see my John Wilkes Booth? One shot’ll do ya’!" and I with "Is that a stovepipe hat on your lap, or are you just very glad to see me?"

Thanks to all for your innuendo suggestions!

Today has been a bad day, but I have Joni Mitchell and Hem on the stereo, a (big) bottle of my favorite shamefully cheap wine, the hide-a-bed, silk pjs and Douglas Adams to soothe the stress and pain of the day. No time for self pity, Dr. Jones. I need to be on my feet and functioning tommorrow. So today I coddle myself, for tommorrow I . . .um. . .do stuff and stuff.

I stopped at the store yesterday to pick up some supplies in an attempt to knock back this goddamned snuffly hacky nasty cold. Since I'm a fabulous multitasker, I picked up some other supplies along with the usual kleenex, decongestants and whatnot. I get to the checkout lady, and she's a stone cold freak. She sees my stuff and exclaims, "Oh! You must have a cold!" as if I had won the godamn lottery or something. As the snot rolls down my face, she slowly lifts each item in the air and names it as she runs it over the scanner. "Kleenex!" beep "Decongestant!" beep "Vitamin C!" beep. She runs through all my stuff like this until she reaches the bottle of lube. As she lifted it into the air, she realized what it was, turned red and said "Um. And something in a blue bottle." It was priceless, and almost worth the wait.

While California is having a happy day, Wisconsin seems to be doing far less well: http://www.madison.com/archives/read.php?ref=wsj:2004:09:10:385822:FRONT. I remember the pledge controversy very well. I'm only surprised it took this long for problems to crop up.

Congratulations to California for joining the civilized world today. Apparently they've finally gotten around to making necrophilia illegal. http://www.reuters.co.uk/newsArticle.jhtml?type=oddlyEnoughNews&storyID=6208780&section=news

By popular demand, this blog now includes a comments section.

I have been busy lak zee little bee, so I will just give you some brief thoughts on the new job:

• It's really weird to hear someone you know refer to themselves as "The State," as in "The State requests x, y or z, Your Honor."
• Being busted for DUII in Oregon really, really sucks. Really.
• It looks really freaking confusing to not speak English and need to deal with the criminal machinery-with or without a translator.
• I see my mother's face in the face of every battered woman who stands up in court to defend her man.
• Never label your child pornography "kid/child porn." Wait, what the hell are you doing with kiddy porn in the first place? Sicko.

So playboy is trolling for women to appear in its "Women of McDonalds" pictorial spread. I can't remember the last time I went to McDs, but I really don't recall seeing anyone who I'd like to see naked working there. Heff may have bitten off more than he can chew.

I saw a bagpiper busking downtown the other day, and wondered just how much money you could make doing that. I can't imagine there is a huge contingent of bagpipe fans ready and willing to pay for a streetside serenade. She was really a-wailing on those suckers too.

I used to live by a church that would occaisionally have a band of bagpipers out practicing. Jude did not cotton to bagpipers. I imagine he couldn't quite decide what to make of the people clutching at these strange animals producing hideous wheezing and eerie wailings, and decided to go into attack mode just to be on the safe side.

Ok-so I've given y'all the gift of me, and now it's time for y'all to give something back. I need your Abe Lincoln related sexual innuendos. Never you mind why. It's . . . um . . . a contest. Yeah! A contest! Mail your innuendo in to profane_n_sacred@yahoo.com with "Lincoln Innuendo" in the subject line. I'll announce the winner in about a week or so. That should give me some time to think of a suitable prize.

Today someone called me "Oh minimalist queen of midwestern reserve." Of course it was another Midwesterner who understands that the less you say the more you're saying. It's kinda funny-I haven't lived in a small town for 7 years now, but the social habits are still deeply engrained.

So who's the law school hottie? http://portland.craigslist.org/mis/41205918.html

Today's good news-a job! A real one and everything. A-course, now I need to go suit shopping.

The days are just packed. It's way too early in the semester to be hyped up with adrenalin, so this relentless hurry hurry hurry must be coming from elsewhere. If I didn't know better, I'd think I was an achiever or something.