the sudden downpour during mardi gras was a real flash flood

my cat ear headphones came! i may never take them off....

i need said headphones to block out the tv while i'm doing my unending deluge of written assignments. 2 weeks left for one school, 4 weeks left for the other...*deep breath* i have to start my 15 page paper re: the 7.7.05 london bombing today. i really could/should change my topic to japan due to the amount of current news coverage and the complete ambiguity of the british authorities re:wtf happened in the tube that day. i was unaware blair (rhyme unintentional) had reacted to 9/11 with legislation similar to our rights usurping patriot act. harumph. i was in england for a total of 1 hour (4 years ago)and that consisted of dashing home alone style through heathrow, backpack jarring my nicotine addicted innards as i gasped for air and the ex raced ahead. we made our connection to paris...sadly our luggage did not.  
edit: make that 20-30 pages. uggggggghhhh. god, i love the brits though. they manage to infuse dry humor into government reports.

tattoooooo next tuesday.

pumpkin positive

first of all: bwaaaaaaaaaahahahaha

(a bbc article regarding british doctor shorthand [insulting abbreviations on patient charts])

some personal favorites:

CTD - Circling the Drain (A patient expected to die soon)

GPO - Good for Parts Only

TEETH - Tried Everything Else, Try Homeopathy

UBI - Unexplained Beer Injury

i'm listening to online lectures for school right now. by listening i mean cackling over snarky physicians across the pond while the professor ummms and uhhhs while rustling papers and trying to shush his barking dog.  

the antique gods smiled upon me this weekend. $20 printers tray. it photographs like a monochromatic sepia smear so unlike levar burton, take my word for it. it's awesome.

edit: well played.
but past actions sear much more darkly than currently uncharged words.

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it was not your fault but mine

so we went to see the stage show of pawn stars yesterday. hilarity ensued. first of all, it was in a restored theater that i went on a photo walk in and took these right before my berfday last year:

that being said: (disclaimer) it's the show on the history channel-las vegas pawn store. it was the dad, son, and chum lee (who is completely catering to his public perception of being dumb as the proverbial rock-was fairly disheartening).

it was their first show and apparently all the kinks weren't quite worked out. they were showing off a previously purchased 200 year old scroll of japanese porn-it was a "tutorial" for new brides (yikes!). on stage they were like, 'don't unroll it all the way. there are kids here' yeah. problem was the giant screen behind them showing closeups of the two painted characters having sex-the dude had a huge exaggerated penis, it was hysterically awkward. 

then they went to the "pawn your items" audience segment. a  pretentious jerk went up to have his astronaut crap appraised. "it went to the moon, i KNOW how much it's worth blah blah blah". he was obnoxious and rude....and then some random chick in the audience screamed (after 5 minutes of his crap), "GO AWAY!" i love worcester.

added bonus: they had an unfortunately titled segment: "are you smarter than a chum lee?"
they invited a nine and A HALF year old (he was adamant about that divided year) up on stage and asked him to guess how much an old barbershop chair was worth (it was a photo of one they own).
kid says, as if on cue: "well, it looks like a piece of crap, so i say fifty bucks."
BWAAAAAAH. the overtly obnoxious emcee almost peed herself with glee. the over excitement, not the harmonious show.

BONUS:

my friend carlos (he is one of the few perks of etsy) is dj'ing a smiths/morrisey night in nyc and asked for drink names. four (out of seven!) of mine are featured! AHEM. 1. johnny marrtini. 2. girlfriend in a coma. 3. mai tai love life 4. vermouth strikes again. mwaaaaahahahahaha.

johnny marrtini=personal best.

if you can't drive in a driveway or park in a parkway-can you still protest in a causeway?

the cat has made the executive decision that unless he is fed his putrid pouch of wet food at least every four hours he is going to dramatically mew, stare at me passive aggressively from the doorway, and, if ignored long enough, scratch the carpet. i keep on having nonsensical dreams that contain recurring and inexplicable caterwauling until i groggily wake up. in my sleepy twilight confusion, sans contacts, i suddenly see a white blob that has been impatiently waiting for me to get up and hook him up with gravy kibble. the little jerk will stuff his delicate cat face, wait until i'm in the shower, and then hop up and nest on my pillow, making sure his cat butt touches the entirety of the cushioned surface.

pardon the hyperbole, but i purchased the best hat ever. it is a yeti, which is perfect because part of meester squish's name is mcbumble. we totally match:

mwahahahahahahaha. i swear i'm not going to just blog about my cat, really. i have a few projects that are almost ready for their closeups and, barring an unforeseen but perpetually dreaded calamity, it looks like we found a house.

strange things are afoot at the circle k.

wilford squish brimley mcbumble

GAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH. midterms + still grappling with financial aid nonsense (i love studying bureaucracy while simultaneously dealing with it) + relationship issues (tracy, you've been acting different...um, yeah, i'm sober [and lame, apparently])=@#$%^!

oh, and i decided it was a rad idea to drunkenly (the one blasted day i've drank for the last month) bid on and consequently win a talkboy on e-bay. yes, the tape recorder from home alone. sigh. 

here. have some cat pictures:

my valentine has pointy ears, says meow, and chocolate will kill him

shady duck:

i feel as though i would be a traitor to my generation if my bedazzled lace heart didn't have the obligatory coronary re: the commercial implications of today. meh. bitching about hallmark is the disaffected equivalent of getting a tribal tattoo. 

what i will gladly bemoan, however, is the lack of creative people in my life. or people, period. i mean really real life-like ferris bueller turf. no keyboard allowed. if i don't get out for a girls night without boyfriend in tow soon i'm going to slowly suffocate in my plastic bag antiseptic chloroform apartment. i need to slowly back away from my laptop before this becomes a rant...and i need female friends. 

the outdated infrastructure needed repairs: it was dam age control

the t rex upstairs is stomping around and using her pathetically tiny arms to pack her collection of now meatless bones and exotic jurrasic era palm trees and getting the @#$%^! out! *REJOICES* 


i drank for the first time in 3 weeks last night. it started out innocently enough with a gummi bear martini to compliment my sweet potato tempura sushi (ahem: nomnomnomnomnom): fast forward four hours to me arguing with ex boyfriend in bar after giving him some of my extra pee wee's playhouse figures...and somehow taking a chunk of my face out under my eyebrow. 

i don't do things half assed.

i think fashion blogs are egomaniac-ally tragic and annoyingly tripod leaden. but since i posted a picture of me bedecked for an interview i figured i would provide some compare and contrast. this is what the action figure of me would wear (squishy cat and vodka included):

boots have a screen print of little red riding hood on them. i would be a lying fink if i said i only casually care for them. and yes, thigh highs +  new england winter=bad idea, but only until you're warm and fuzzy from booze.