Stephen and I are sitting and watching a talk show and one of the guests says "in life, all you really need is six good friends." Then we get here:
Stephen: That's true really...eventually you'll need six pall bearers, so...
Me: (stares) Would it KILL you to be a little LESS Jewish sometimes?!
Stephen: What?!
Me: You people always have to go straight to death! You couldn't take from that that maybe all you need in life is six people who you can get really close to and who can prove to be real, true friends?! No, it just HAS to be about death, doesn't it?!
Stephen: (nearly chokes from laughing)
Me: You're laughing because you know it's true!
Stephen: This is going in your journal, isn't it?
Me: Duh.
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- Location:43.707345, -79.711235
As I was getting into bed just now, I was trying to untangle the sheets from around Stephen.
Suddenly he jumps and screams full in my face.
Apparently he was having a nightmare about a monster living in the peanut butter jar that came out, grew to "full size", and chased him. He kept calling for help, but I just kept playing video games and ignoring him.
But he says MY dreams are weird. I never got chased by Mr. Peanut...
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- Location:Canada, Ontario
Stephen: (sitting behind me) Wow...you're good.
Me: I know...it's like I've got Asperger's or something.
Stephen: (beat) That would explain a lot.
- Mood:
damn, I'm good
The toothpaste tube in my bathroom has written, down the side, "Protects Against Acid Attack".
My first thought was "well THAT seems overly dramatic..."
My second thought was "but wouldn't it be awesome if they meant like...sulfuric acid attack. Like if you were Harvey Dent and all it would have taken to keep you from becoming Two Face was to slather some Crest on your face each morning.
'Ha! Your attempt to kill me with hydrochloric acid has been foiled by the power of flouride! Also, my face has shown significant whitening after just one week!'"
That last part takes on a double meaning of moonwalking proprtions for a black guy...
Dude. New thought! Maybe the secret to Michael Jackson's sudden racial change wasn't some aggressive made-up sounding skin condition!
Maybe it was Colgate!
CONRAD MURRAY MUST KNOW SOMETHING ABOUT THIS! Someone go to the prison and question him!
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- Mood:
tired - Music:Beautiful Lie by Esthero
 | VoicePost  266K 1:35 | (no transcription available) |
My friends and I have often joked about naming our alternate future timeline children something fucked up, but they're just that: jokes.
For all my bluster, and the spate of laughter that ensues after I say it, I would never *ACTUALLY* name my first child "Murder Suicide". That's just wrong.
Not as wrong as "Adolf Hitler" and "Aryan Nation", you obviously anti-Semitic bull's testicles, but wrong enough.
Ellen is right: the world is entirely too full of the WRONG kind of people.
- Mood:
disgusted
The scene, earlier tonight. I'm standing in the kitchen making spaghetti sauce. As I'm standing there stirring, I call Christopher over.
Me: Does this sauce look a little thick to you?
Chris: (looks into pot) It does look a little thick, sure.
Me: (rolls eyes into the back of head, waves hand over pot, in best elderly gypsy voice) Thiiiiiiiinner.... (opens eyes, looks into pot, looks at Christopher)
Chris: (stares)
Me: (shrugs) Gypsy curses are notoriously unreliable...
- Mood:
amused
Stephen can't watch horror movies. They terrify him to his very core. This is very important.
Me: I don't know why people like Stephen King so much...I don't find his writing very good. Like, I watched It a couple weeks back--
Stephen: I always liked It.
Me: (stares) No you didn't.
Stephen: Yes I did! I always thought he was cute...the way he'd do his little dance...
Me: What?
Stephen: His little dance! And the way his hair would shimmer. And the little noise he made.
Me: Noise he made? Are we talking about the same thing?
Stephen: Yes! Cousin Itt!
Me: :headdesk: No, Stephen. I'm talking about *Stephen King's It*!
Stephen: Oh. No, I wouldn't watch that. That would be scary.
Me: :sigh: That's going in the journal.
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- Mood:Headdesk
I was just watching a video by someone named...Grayson Chance?...who I hear tell was made big by Ellen Degeneres or something (does this make him her Tickle Me Elmo? That sounds wrong). He was singing some deep song about life and love or whatever.
I don't think you should get to write any sort of song about that kind of subject matter until you're old enough to drink legally. What's this kid's most difficult problem? That his best friend has a level 80 Rapidash on Pokemon Silver and he can't find one?
And you're going to lecture ME on the philosophy of life? Fuck you, kid. See title line, okay?
- Mood: bored
I'll make you a cake if you can tie them together into a story that makes sense:
-mice
-the American Who's Line Is It Anyway cast
-fried scallops
-Dragon Balls (in different colours)
-a ritual (NOT the Dragon Ball one, but rather one with the fried scallops)
-Costco
-Voltron's Blazing Sword
-
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=91.7){kind=small}
momentai-eight half pounds of bacon
-plastic bags
-walking in the rain
-preferential treatment
-and finally groceries.
Go ahead. Put those together somehow. Because I don't know what the HELL I was looking at.
- Mood:
groggy
He then comes in here, face down to the floor, and declares that this will CLEARLY be the show's final season because "this is just Two And A Half Men with Kelso" and the show isn't funny anymore.
How is he not aware that the show wasn't funny BEFORE?
- Mood:
embarrassed for him
That's exactly what that needed.
Fucking Hollywood.
- Mood: annoyed
Lex Luthor has claimed to be reformed in order to secure a job at the Daily Planet. The entire time Jimmy Olsen is trying to prove he's still evil (it's very The Boy Who Cried Wolf or somesuch). Luthor is, of course, NOT reformed and, at the end of the episode, enacts his diabolical plan.
What plan, you ask?
Using specially created water in specially created water coolers, Luthor activates a specially created machine that causes the water to bubble lifting the entire Daily Planet building up into the air in a bid to send it into orbit.
With himself inside.
Now...I'm no scientist, but there's no oxygen in space. Humans need oxygen to live. So sending the building into orbit would kill everyone inside, as I don't remember ever reading that the Daily Planet was hermetically sealed. Which, on the surface, isn't a bad plan to kill the people that annoy you.
It, however, ISN'T such a good plan if you do this WHILE YOU'RE STANDING IN THE BUILDING. And he doesn't even see his mistake. He's just standing there, looking all chuffed with himself.
Lex has turned himself into a suicide terrorist. The eff.
Where was Superman throughout all of this, you ask? On a conveyer belt down at the printing presses, tied up and about to be crushed. Luthor threw black newsprint ink mixed with Kryptonite on him.
Yeah. This is all a thing that happened. Right in front of me.
Ask me again why I'm a Marvel fan.
- Mood:
confused
Ergo, you know what that means...Unless you're new to the party (or just haven't been paying attention) then you know that as it is October, which is National Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and therefore Jason once again feels the need to remind you (always in a loving manner, of course) that if you have not already, you should make a doctor's appointment.
Yes, mammograms suck. I know all about the boob smooshings in that medieval torture device they call a "medical tool", but really, isn't a small amount of discomfort now and peace of mind so much better than no discomfort and blissful ignornace?
I think it is.
If nothing else, my constant yearly reminders should, at this point, have annoyed you enough (as you desperately try to decipher this pink text) that you'll do it just to shut me up. I am perfectly okay with you doing it just to shut me up. People ALWAYS do things just to shut me up...
But, believe me, all jokes aside? This is WAY more for your own health than to keep me quiet. Do it. If everything's okay then you will feel better having done it. And if everything's not (gods forbid), maybe you will have caught it early enough. But you can't catch anything if you don't know it's there.
Look, the *POINT* is, you should go and do that. Right now. Go. Hurry. I'll wait...
....back? Now don't you feel better? I know I do.
As I also say every year, do me a favour, go out and hug one of your female friends/family members and remind them they too should get tested. It is important, yes?
This post is my virtual hug to you all, and my hopes and prayers that you'll all be here for me to annoy again NEXT year!
</a>- Mood:
HAMSTER HUGS YOU TOO!
...but why are the characters in zombie movies ALWAYS mystified by what's happening.
Have they never heard of zombies EVER before?
I mean if you're sitting at home and all of a sudden a gigantic mutant hamster with bat wings and a face like Catherine Zeta-Jones starts tapping on the living room window, that's something worthy of giving you pause, but dead people standing up, moaning, and trying to eat your face? Pretty standard.
There's always a character who's all "What's happening to those people?"
Are you serious? Have you never read a book? Seen a movie? Talked to another human being before?
It's fucking zombies, you asshole! Determine if they are the running or shambling kind, find a weapon, aim for the head.
This is why I keep a copy of the Zombie Survival Guide in the bathroom. Read it while you're in there so I don't have to answer stupid questions.
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- Mood: confused
Now, ignoring the idea that you need a tennis ball of cake, what bothered me the most were two things. One woman said that "she always felt guilty having a whole piece of cake herself, so this was ideal."
Who feels guilty about eating a slice of cake? You feel guilty about eating an ENTIRE cake. That's something to be concerned about. Eating a single slice of cake is what you're SUPPOSED to do. Additionally, the amount of cake in a tennis ball of cake is the EXACT SAME amount of cake in a SLICE of cake.
So...you suddenly believe that shape is a factor? If that's the case, only make slab cakes. Then you can eat a cube of cake instead of a slice if that triangle bothers you so fucking much.
The second thing that bothered me (and truly something that bothers me about ALL of these types of commercials) was the "I can't handle basic life because it is too difficult" moment. You may remember my tirade about the pasta pot with the holes in the top because the woman in the commercial was incapable of draining her pasta without burning herself and spilling water all over the floor (an action performed by millions of people all over the world every day, don't get me started on Italy...). This was a similar situation.
A woman walks into her kitchen with a store bought cake (lazy bitch) and dumps it on the counter, the announcer stating that "store bought cakes are boring".
First of all, store bought cakes suck. That is the nature of the beast. If you buy a cake from the grocery store and expect some delicious, decadent orgy for your taste buds, you're not particularly smart. Granted, not everyone has time to bake, and I accept that, but don't bitch later when you buy crap, is all I'm saying.
Additionally, "cake is boring"? Cake is never boring. First of all the only people who REALLY care about cakes are kids. And kids are REALLY easy to please where cake is involved. Y'know that store bought cake I was just complaining about? Kids will love that. Y'know why? Because it's fucking CAKE.
Normal adults don't get excited about cake (I do, but I am MILES away from being a "normal" adult...also I make my own, so fuck you cake commercial!). They just don't.
Something else just occurred to me...if you don't have time to make a regular cake and therefore have to buy a store bought slab of crap, how are you going to have time to make and decorate eighteen individual tennis balls?
This whole situation is bothering me.
YES. THESE ARE THE THINGS THAT BOTHER ME. DON'T JUDGE.
- Mood: confused
He acted up all day. He was on time-out in his kennel more than he was allowed to walk around.
The problem is that he gets himself all wound up, but hasn't learned to settle himself down AND when he gets tired he gets easily frustrated and starts growling and barking at everyone and everything instead of just going to sleep.
I just picked him up to move him away from something he was doing and he lunged at my face. Didn't break skin or anything, but I definitely felt his teeth graze my cheek. Honestly it didn't even hurt, but he's still little. I don't want him pulling that shit when he's 50 fucking pounds.
I know he'll grow out of it, but motherFUCK I wish he was grown out of it NOW.
- Mood: tired
I just saw a ProActiv commercial that told me that "clear, beautiful skin is in this season."
As opposed to last season when all the runways in Milan were a-buzz with acne, warts and boils?
Idiots.
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- Location:Canada, Ontario
- Mood:Amused
Gamer + Transformers - Gerard Butler + Wolverine(For Some Reason) + Rocky - Originality = Real Steel.
There will be a test later.
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- Location:Canada, Ontario
It's like "aww...you're too pretty for me not to have a boner right now...I'm sorry!"
But then there is a part of me that is acutely aware that said pretty girl couldn't give a fuck whether or not I find her attractive because who the hell am *I* supposed to be.
Of course I have learned that girls do like to be told they are pretty. Maybe I should start doing that...is that creepy? To have a random guy walk up and tell you that you're pretty.
Sidebar: y'know what's funny? If I tell them I'm gay upfront? They probably wouldn't be bothered. We gay dudes can get away with a SHITLOAD more than straight guys can. Do you know how many boobs I have touched by simply saying "hey, can I touch your boob?"
At least seventeen individual boobs.
Think about that.
- Mood:
hungry
Can anything compare to the joy that is watching episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer?
Because I don't think anything can, really.
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I Spoke Too Soon EDIT: The Body is on. Time for tears.- Location:Canada, Ontario
- Mood:
content
I'm watching Sesame Street for the first time since Matthew was a baby (so...something like 10-12 years), and I just have one question:
What the fuck is this?!
This show was much better when I was younger. We somehow moved from educational and fun to obnoxiously preachy.
Ah well. At least the puppets are still cute.
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- Location:Canada, Ontario
- Mood: annoyed
We just came inside after a nice little run about, followed by lunch and he is thankfully down for a nap.
I sound like an actual parent don't I?
THIS, non-pet people, is why we treat them like little people. Because we've got to do a whole bunch of the same shit you'd have to do with an actual baby.
He's teething. Did I mention that? He won't stop chewing on me. His Kong amuses him for a bit but then it's right back to my fingers and toes.
He's lucky he's cute because that shit hurts.
.........Seriously, sweet silence.
(And no, my journal will not be becoming All Angus, All the Time...but if it does WHO WILL STOP ME?! *YOU*?! I DON'T *THINK* SO.
........I was up at six to let him out. I'm tired. Don't judge me.)
- Mood:
good
Peoples, this is Angus.
Innit he just precious?
He's an 8 week old border collie/Australian Shepard mix and he's aaaaaaaaaall mine! :insert Mad Scientist cackle here:
No, seriously, get your own.
So far the cats have surprised me, where Angus is concerned. I figured Bailey would be excited and Pebbles would be standoffish, but no...Pebbles has instantly taken on the Mommy Role and Bailey is skulking around with a very distinct air of "WHAT THE *FUCK* IS *THAT* THING."
Angus...he's just bouncing around on his stumpy little legs happy as can be.
I's happy boy.
- Mood: ecstatic
California *CLEARLY* is the worst place in the world. Whenever I'm watching a California feed there is always some sort of breaking news, generally a car chase, going on in LA (so I suppose, specifically *Los Angeles* is the worst place in the world).
Although today they switched it up and it was a bomb scare/threat in a school.
This leads me to one of two conclusions: a)the aforementioned "worst place int he world" or b)Californians are REALLY jumpy and feel a need to inform one another of all the shit that's going down.
"OMG, U GUYZ! A THING IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW!!! :("
I have actually *been* to California and I don't know why celebrities like that place so much. California fucking sucks ass.
And I was in a nice part of it too.
Give me New York with its bums, pissed off Italians and dirty water any day. At least when you're there you feel like you're *doing* something.
- Mood: hungry
-Famous porn star for a boyfriend.
-Being CONVINCED said boyfriend was cheating on me with...like...EVERYONE.
-Realizing that my photographic evidence of supposed cheating is, in fact, false.
-An absolutely RIDICULOUS looking Christmas tree purchased by said boyfriend.
-Camping with a bunch of people I've never met in my life.
-A swamp.
-A swamp with dead people in it.
-A swamp with dead people in it that were apparently killed by a bear.
-An Ahab like hunter desperate to kill said bear.
If you can form a coherent story out of those bullet points, feel free, because it'll make more sense than the actual dream I had, I'm more than certain.
I kinda felt bad for my porn star boyfriend...I've spoken to said porn star before in my life...he seems like such a nice guy and I wasn't treating him very fairly. I feel like apologizing in real life, but that would just make me sound like a crazy person.
Which, yes, I am used to sounding like a crazy person, but still.
- Mood: groggy
Stephen and I were watching Masterchef the other day and the contestants were tasked with creating an updated version of one of the judges' childhood comfort foods (the choices being pizza, mac and cheese or tomato soup and grilled cheese).
This, of course, led to Stephen and I discussing our own personal comfort foods and how we would make them all fancy, were either of us on the show.
I chose my grandmother's baked mac and cheese. Which honestly is one of my favourite foods, but I didn't have the heart to tell him what my actual comfort food is: a bowl of cereal.
I was a weird kid (who has since grown into a weird adult). I didn't want sugary cereals as a kid. No Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs for Jason, no. I wanted plain Cheerios or Rice Krispies. Honey Nut Cheerios if I wanted to go highbrow. Occasionally, and I mean VERY occassionally I'd grab the odd box of Froot Loops. To this day I prefer a simple uncomplicated, unsweetened cereal.
Except Corn Flakes. Once you hit a certain point it's 99% crumbs, and I hate crumbs in my cereal. That point is about two inches above the bottom of the box, bee tee dubs.
That's really all I need. I've been known to have cereal for dinner if I don't feel like cooking. Cereal makes me happy. Even the simple act of buying cereal fills me with a quiet serenity that all of the meditation in the world couldn't hope to duplicate.
I achieve my own personal nirvana when I'm sitting on my couch, in my underpants, eating cereal and watching cartoons.
That is my idea of perfect joy.
What is your comfort food? Also, what was your favourite cereal as a child and now as an adult.
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- Location:Canada, Ontario
Although I have a few ex-boyfriends in my dating history, there are only two of any real note: the Asshole and the Queen.
They are of note because they are the only two I still hold active negative feelings for.
So imagine my surprise at waking up from a dream in which I seemed to have gotten back together with the Queen. It began with us having a fight (which was about 80% of our relationship) which we were only having because he'd totally misunderstood something I'd done and rather than ask me about it, he threw a little temper tantrum (which was about 80% of our fights).
I explained myself and he felt better just in time to have a pack of fucking teenagers hurl two rocks through my bedroom window and call me a fag. The rest of the dream was about me trying to hunt down these little snot nosed homophobes.
What irks me is that I've got some important shit to do and I'm stuck with this six and a half foot tall screaming queen backing me up.
See subject line.
The Queen was about as reliable as a fishnet umbrella. Why in the HELL would I dream about this idiot helping me do ANYTHING?!
Fucking brain.
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- Location:Canada, Ontario
This is a Smurf.
I really fucking hate these fucking things.
I'm fairly certain they cause AIDS, cancer, and mullets.
That is all.
- Mood: bored
I was a director/producer on Broadway in charge of several different shows. My days were filled with choreographing various dance numbers.
However, the number that got my little theatre company a standing ovation was a very grandiose, very intricate version of "Walk Through the Fire" from Once More, With Feeling.
There were lights and makeup and a smoke machine and it was fucking epic and I was SO disappointed when I woke up because I was *really* proud of what I'd done and boo, real life.
I think I have missed my calling...TO BROADWAY!!!!!
- Mood:
thirsty
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