Thursday, October 18, 2007

Worst Morning Ever

On my drive in to work this morning, things were going well. I was actually early for once. I was listening to Faith 1190 (don't ask) as I so often do, and thinking to myself that Thursday might just be okay.

There is a street I must navigate every day to get to the courthouse called West Wilson. It is almost like the video game Paper Boy- pedestrians cross without looking, open manhole covers occasionally pop up in the middle of the street, delivery trucks block whole lanes, and bicyclists weave in and out of traffic. Driving down this street requires an extraordinary amount of attention to detail, or you will most certainly kill someone or something.

That is exactly what happened this morning. I was enjoying my rarely pleasant mood when a squirrel (complete with nut in mouth) bounded out into Wilson Street, directly under the tires of the car in front of me. The car in front of me made no attempt to stop or avoid the squirrel, nor did the driver provide any indication that she recognized the squirrel as a living being whose head she had just crushed (at no point did her brake lights go on and her car never deviated from its path). Lucky for her, not so lucky for the me and the line of cars behind me who had to watch the squirrel twitch and struggle on its back as it slowly and excruciatingly passed into death.

I probably should have finished the job and just run it over, but I simply cannot kill something purposely (nor can my Mini for that matter). I certainly hope that one of the cars behind me, whether accidentally or intentionally, was able to put that squirrel out of its misery. I have no clue how long a squirrel can live with half a head, but I imagine it's quite a while.

And now that my morning is officially ruined, I hope you have a pleasant day.

Friday, August 31, 2007

Monday, July 09, 2007


If you have a cat, I highly advise that you get the ScoopFree Litterbox. It actually works, which is amazing. You have to buy these stupid disposable cartridges for it, but you can buy a permanent one off of E-bay by searching for "Forever Litter Tray." This litterbox has changed my life, and the way my cats poop.

Thursday, May 03, 2007

Headaches



Seriously...what is the deal with headaches? I am very tired of getting them. After my car accident, it was to the point where I was getting them EVERY DAY. That sucks--majorly. It's not every day now, but it's still most days. If it were just migraines...I think I could deal with it. But it isn't. I run the absolute gamut of headaches--tension, migraine, sinus, etc. In order to handle all these headaches, I have an arsenal of medication. It seems like I always take the wrong medication for the headache I have, so it never quite goes away. I've tried meds, chiropractors, physical therapy, massage therapy, had x-rays, CAT scans, had injections--none of it is enough! The doctors are baffled. I don't display symptoms of one type of headache, but rather, EVERY type of headache. If anyone has any suggestions, please offer them. I am at a loss.

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Vote-a-doo!

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Directly to your right, you will see an obnoxious, blinking ad asking you to vote for the CDP in the Blogger's Choice Awards. Please heed this gif, and vote immediately. I CAN make it blink faster--don't force me to do it. Thank you for your cooperation.

Thursday, February 15, 2007

Sunday, February 11, 2007

A Spam Break-Up Letter

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(Few people recognize the beauty of the spam email. I have painstakingly composed this letter from bits of spam email I have received. Enjoy the absurdity.)

Dear Bulb-

From day to occipital day, I lived on level alone. Well, here I am helpless at last-thanks to an unseasonable excess of the most powerful aphrodisiac of all, seal penis soup. I know that the Liberal Lord will torture me no longer! This is, however, the far most common final thought experienced by every single Galapooter in the history of Galapooting. Let these remarks suffice on the subject of substance.

Quality, that which takes its character from quality, has a name not called sweet because it is affected in a specific way. All relatives have correlatives: determinate sense. Thus, individual branches of knowledge are not relative. Indeed, if our definition of that which is relative was change in both directions is impossible. It is in the case of space that quantity most plausibly appears to be the contrary of any primary substance. To sum it up, it is a distinctive mark of substance, for one is at the same time both sick and healthy.

Do you remember when we threw a few snowballs at each other, but it was fairly wet and cold and slushy so we didn’t stay out too long? I am beginning to visualize odd magpies flying around as well as big mules blowing out noxious, poisonous gases everywhere. It’s really quite the interesting experience. Have our winter meetings outlived their usefulness? Should we abandon them completely? I do not dare open my eyes for fear I might not be able to stop crying.

Do you recognize this bit of parchment, all of which I took from a small locked portfolio under a yellow hen that was sitting- the chicken that eats the bugs? It reminds me of the time we sat down to enjoy the Sunday morning breakfast of coffee and steak and you thought so hard that the pins and needles began to stick with a violence which would have killed any other boy. And yet I clamored for candy!!! You always chose with taste and judgment.

When we are offered infinite choice, the true shape of demand is revealed. There is a new line in the sand (yet none of this is worthwhile fodder for discussion.) It showed I was not such a good scarecrow, and the copper man stepped off as briskly as any of them. The occasional star agent will always make a bundle- sight is not sight of blindness. Perhaps some explanation of the dilemma may be found? Have you no idea whatever?

I know you are currently a massage therapist and at times, although you love to massage your clients, you wish you had gone to nursing school. I realized that during the fifth time in three years that authorities had detained me in a mental institution because of my protests against forced evictions and abuse of land rights. This was later upgraded to subversion. So please…take time every day to do what you love- move your body, challenge your mind, and know that you can be the best you can be. But I need to practice what I preach.

Today the sunset will be beautiful, as I flick you off, push you in the lake and yell, “I am breaking up with you, you awful!” And why? To make you see the unbelievable truth: that aliens are in the hell-hole called Texas.

Sincerely, Archibold

P.S. You can skip to the end and leave a response. What about flamingos, owls, or chickadees?

Thursday, February 08, 2007

February is National Pet Dental Month

I'm not dead, but my voice is.

Is that figurative? Why, you may never know!