The Dangerous Existence of Madame Lee

A conversation I had last night with lolmom when we were both punchdrunk. We were talking about my wisdom teeth, since I finally got a referral from my dentist.

Lolmom: lol maybe u cans kepe ur teef n hav tehm in, liek, a neklas or sthg
l33: Yeah. I'll tell people I removed them myself.
Lolmom: lol
l33: In the wilderness. With a flint knife.
Lolmom: lolol ppl wil b impresst
l33: It will give off this nice "don't fuck with me" vibe.

You know, because my normal personality isn't offputting enough :D

So I was bored at work today and while my thoughts were wandering, I happened to remember one of those memes where you compile a soundtrack for your life. I almost did this, but then it occurred to me that every song on that soundtrack would be Boots Randolph's "Yakety Sax" (best known as the theme to the Benny Hill Show, and guaranteed to make anything hilarious). My life is a farce, basically, so pretty much everything could be aptly set to Yakety Sax without seriously compromising the artistic integrity of the whole.

Including the sex scenes.

Especially the sex scenes.

LOL-MART SUCKS. Fortunately, I had the presence of mind to order a copy of my birth certificate (the original is somewhere in the house, but we can't find it; if it turns up, great, if not, I have a certified copy), so I can now visit all the temp agencies. :D Seriously, I am getting very tired of having to smile and be friendly all the goddamn time.

pixelation: I am ttly going to jack your pizza idea, if we can ever find scallops (decent ones are in short supply here, though unscallops are plentiful). Because pesto pizza is delicious, and I fail to see how sun-dried tomatoes and scallops could do anything but improve it.

I now have a St. Paddy's Day T-shirt which reads "Let's Get Ready To Stumble". Also, I got my schedule through 20 March and actually have St. Paddy's Day off, so have the luxury of stumbling if I want (or at least drinking one and leaving, since I'm still pretty much sober after a single beer and there's something about calling the lolmom for a ride that just puts a damper on the whole thing for me). This pleases me.

I was so hungry for fish the other night that I bought a box of fish sticks, and actually chomped on the frozen ones while I was waiting for some of them to cook. Seriously. Ew. I have lived to regret this.

X-chan got me Savage Darkness by Cassie Edwards for Christmas, as a gag gift of sorts, and it is one of the most unintentionally lolarious things I have ever read. Seriously, it is impossible to be in a bad mood while you're reading a Cassie Edwards novel, and it's not because she's so delightfully uplifting. If this stuff can get published, I think my little island faggot has a fighting chance. (OHWAIT. Fantasy writers get pigeonholed. Because fantasy isn't about using your imagination anymore, it's about trying to be Tolkien except for the bit where YOU CAN'T.)

I am busily organizing my time and my life. FOR NOW. :D Actually, I dropped by work in my pavement-pounding clothes--"o hai i look nice i can haz job???"--and Miley told me I looked hot. I didn't think there was anything really special about my outfit--basic nice grey dress slacks, also my new red sweater--but hey, it was a nice boost to the ol' self-esteem. (Speaking of clothes, I've kind of been toying with the idea of sewing--I'm not by nature a crafty person, so that in and of itself is a hoot--and when I looked at the patterns for fat chicks, I was just disgusted. I'm in my twenties, for fuck's sake, and people my age typically do not wear housecoats. Nor am I interested in old-lady pants or tunics the size of Cleveland. Madame Lee is not having this shit today, thanks all the same.)

I have about an hour before I have to leave for work. Atypically for a Sunday, I'm only on four hours today, which means plenty of time to get shit done in the afternoon.

Also, a happy belated to _graywolf_.

Also also, IT IS MARCH. HOORAY! IT'S MARCH!

+ Books are good food.
+ Tonight, somebody's (school-age) kid tore across the front end of the Lol-Mart in which I work, shrieking, "I HAVE DIARRHEA! I HAVE DIARRHEA!" in tones that betokened wonder and delight. I couldn't help but laugh because a.) I am twelve years old and would laugh at the word "diarrhea" if it appeared in a serious and reputable medical textbook and b.) my childhood was pretty fucked-up and bodily functions were considered an appropriate topic of dinner-table conversation. X-chan and I were probably the only kids in America routinely threatened with scurvy and rickets to get us to eat our vegetables. Anyway, I think I'm going to try to get "I have diarrhea!" to catch on, since for the most part "istennoing one's feet" and "Tom Cruise knows the history of psychiatry!" hasn't. Use "I have diarrhea!" to express inappropriate enthusiasm today!

(For the uninitiated, which would be more or less everyone who isn't driley1 and imperfectkatoru, X-chan and I have this rule that if we're arguing, and someone says, "Tom Cruise knows the history of psychiatry!", that person automatically wins, because there is no rational reply that can be made to that statement. Unfortunately, since this rule of civilized rhetoric was adopted, X-chan has become a lot quicker on the Tom Cruise draw than I am, which means she wins a lot of arguments by default. Fortunately, we never argue about anything really serious.)
+ I lose at writing pr0n.
+ For some reason I got spam encouraging me to confine the man or men in my life to some sort of male chastity cage (go on, say it, get all the comments out of your systems), which caused me to cross my legs just thinking about it and is certainly not something I'd do to anybody I cared about. Apparently there's a market for that sort of thing. Apparently there's money to be made. If I could somehow combine sex toys and chastity devices with MLMs, I'd be sitting on a goldmine of passive income.
+ GoodReads totally has my number, because the other day I managed to pull up a stack of Stephen Turnbull books I haven't read AND an ad with a cute girl in her underwear. Let's just say that was a red-letter day.
+ A couple-three days ago, I got to yap at aeromancy on AIM for the first time ever. It was v. cool at least from my own end. WAS IT GOOD FOR YOU TOO???

I was on Epicurious, looking for something to make that I have not yet made, and they happen to have a St. Pat's feature. Okay, I was curious to see what food that entailed, since one doesn't really go out for Irish cuisine (...at least not in the Midwest), so I clicked on it. In fairness, it was an interesting read, though I maintain that soda bread should not be all pimped out to contain anything but flour, baking soda, sugar, buttermilk, and raisins.

And Google AdSense happened to have some ads up. Okay, no big deal. That happens sometimes. I've even clicked on a few, if they seem interesting enough.

( In which Google AdSense spectacularly falls down on the job. WARNING: It's gross. )

In totally unrelated news, it's MAAAARCH, yay, it's MAAAARCH, and I didn't go to Bloomington (I'll try to go next weekend) but I did order a pizza and tonight I think I'm going to see Be Kind, Rewind, largely so I can tell H how it is. (H gets the movies some months behind me, and apparently stupid comedy is not a popular genre in Japan.)

♥ j00 4ll.

So I was tooling up US-41 on Friday on my way to Vincennes to do this OMG RUSH JOB that they needed RIGHT THE FUCK NOW!!!1 and I was stuck behind some car--I described it in e-mail to augustuscaesar as a truck, but now that I think about it, it was more like a van or SUV. I wasn't close enough to it to read the bumperstickers, which is a good thing, but it had a most intriguing decal. There was a vaguely familiar humanoid figure that looked sort of like it was wearing armor, and it had assumed a squarish shape and appeared to have a horned insignia on its head. At this point, my Bushid-O-Meter (patent pending) started to ping like mad and I thought OMG SAMURAI!!!!1!!11oneone!!!samurai!!!11

Then I got closer to the SUV/van and realized that I had, in fact, hallucinated the samurai. What the picture turned out to be, and I totally am not making this up, was a picture of Zeus. Seriously. I don't know what you'd call a bearded man in a khiton wielding a thunderbolt, but I'd call him Zeus, given that this is the iconography that is usually associated with him. The thing I'd taken for the horned ornament on a samurai's helmet (I usually know the technical term for this but it has slipped my mind at present and I am too lazy to walk five steps to my copy of Warriors of Medieval Japan and look it up) was, in fact, the thunderbolt, which Zeus was holding over his head. The squarish effect was caused by some other decals that were boxing Zeus in.

At this point, I realized I was getting way too close to the other vehicle, so switched lanes in order to pass him safely, because the speed limit on that stretch of US-41 is 60 and he had to be doing around 45 or 50, which is way the fuck too slow even given the weather conditions (rain).

I just wonder what the odds of hallucinating samurai and then finding Zeus are. Or what it says about me (nothing good, I'm sure).

Found via Four Stone Hearth. I figure some of you are sick and twisted enough to get a kick out of this.

However, I totally want a robot sommelier.

In terms of actual news, nothing to report, other than that my workload is about to be increased on account of Joy and I share a client and she is leaving to work for a new title company. I am told the client doesn't get that much in the counties Joy covered, so one hopes the transition will be relatively painless.

One hopes.

Seriously, I never in my life expected to see this.

Then again, it's the twenty-first century; I'm going to see a lot of things I didn't expect to see.

Also, if I can get a couple of you hooked on smilingbread, I will earn my Evil merit badge.

Sticker seen on someone's back windshield in Sullivan County: "No Bags, No Switches, No Fat Bitches".

Immediate reactions:
1.) Clearly, these kids don't know what the word "switch" means in my world. The mental image was so hilarious that I burst out laughing several times on my way back to the hotel.

2.) I bet the owner of the car is a seventeen-year-old virgin. Not, of course, that there's anything wrong with that. Having once been seventeen years old, male, and virginal, I can assure you that my entire sex life at that point consisted of sitting around with my male friends and lying vigorously about all the pussy I wasn't getting.

3.) The idea that anyone would state on their car, in the form of a decal, who they're not willing to have sex with is both hilarious and pathetic, because it bespeaks an ego so overweening that the driver simply can't conceive of someone who wouldn't want to fuck him. (For the record, if I were the type to judge a man's cock by his car, I'd immediately write this particular seventeen-year-old virgin off as decidedly lacking. Neons strike me as girl cars.) And also, if I were going to list entire groups of people that I have no desire to have sex with, it would take a lot more space than my rear windshield. In fact, it would start something like, "ABSOLUTELY NO MEN, MINORS, GOTHS, BI-CURIOUS GIRLS, HARDCORE STONERS, NEO-NAZIS, PRETENTIOUS COMPARATIVE LITERATURE MAJORS, PEOPLE WHO DON'T KNOW WHAT CLASSICS IS," and would peter out long before I ever got to the tail end of people I have no sexual interest in.