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Saddam Hussein is dead now.

Ok. Dee's note to self number 367,982:



MY facial skin appears to be too thin for waxing safely.



My chin looks like road rash.



The poor aesthetician was crying.



I do not think it was her fault.



I'd never had my face waxed before.



I've rubbed vitamin E oil into my chin and some oil stuff her manager gave me. It's cleary-orange and smells like springtime in foreign mountains.



She said it should help to heal the broken skin faster. It rather tingles a bit and feels warm.



I hope so. I leave for Montreal Saturday morning.



Wouldn't be good for the Dee to show up looking like she took a spill off a motorbike.

I have double chocolate cheese cake.



PLBT! Naner naner!

With damn good puns.



Once there were three Indian women. They were all pregnant, and they slept in their husbands' teepees on animal skins that they had killed or traded for.



The first slept on a deer skin.



The second slept on a bear skin.



The third slept on a hippopotamus skin.



All three had their children on the full moon. The first had a strong baby boy. The second also had a strong baby boy. The third had twins.



This just proves that the sons of the squaw of the hippopotamus are equal to the sons of the squaws of the other two hides.

So. Yesterday evening Bri and I were talking, and she was going to go to bed. I told her that since she’s been dancing through so many of my damn dreams lately she could pick a topic so she’d have some say over them. The evil bizzle said, “PETTING ZOOS!”



…



You folks know my mind. You know that it’s kind of hanging to the left and lives in the gutter.



Yes, there was a petting zoo.



More later. More later. Work keeps intruding.

I used to have night terrors about The Copper Lady.



I'd feel like electricity was entering me through my spine and swarming through me, falling out my mouth and eyes, and she would laugh.



I'd taste rotting pennies, like chloroform, and be unable to move.



There would be several repetitions of this over the course of part of a night, then I'd be up the rest of the night, afraid to go to sleep.



I am not sure when or how, but I think I finally realized that The Copper Lady was me.



I've been trying to create an iambic pentameter poem about the ideal of the Copper Lady and transformation, but it has been slow going for over a year now. It intimidates me.



I think I am still scared of her.

There was once a woman with lightning inside.

Her words and mental conjugation did fear deride,

until, a moment, of bright fearsome scope,

did puzzles illuminate ... thought patterns the rope ..



...





She smiles my mind, without even knowing it, and circles it with puzzle and search.



I dig that.



Best thing, is that they are my own puzzles and my own searches, and somehow ... her words are catalysts.



She's nifty.



Just had to be said.

This will most definitely come under the heading of TMI.



Consider yourself warned.



I have noticed, since losing the weight I have, that when I sit down, my ... area ... touches whatever it is I sit upon.





Rather disconcerting when that thing happens to be a cold concrete bench.



o_O

I yelled at a complete stranger at the grocer's, and yes, I pulled the "crazy" card.



I should probably preface my story with a little descriptive background. I went to the grocer's in pyjamas and my cthulu slippers. I got freaked out yesterday by the sheer number of people outside and couldn't go in, so i thought the pJ's would be ... I dunno, armor of a sorts.



ANYWAY. Remember the slippers, as they have a role to play later in our heroine's tale.



I went in, got my stuffs.



Some woman with a grocery cart FULL, unloaded everything on one of the ten items or less lanes. Fine, a brain surgeon, but no biggie.



This MAN proceeded to yell at her and got chuffed away when she said, "I'm just more special than you."



It amused me, but apparently not him.



So, he started yelling at the employee with whom I was speaking about watch batteries, interrupted me, started yelling at the kid, saying he had no control over his shoppers and should go "grow a pair and handle the bitch."



No. 1 - He was an asshat.



No. 2 - He interrupted me.



No. 3 - He was giving this poor KID a hard time about something he really had no control over.



So.



DEE says something along the lines of ..



"Wow! You got inconvenienced, and your little feelers hurt becuase apparently you believe the wit claiming she's more special than you because she can't count! THEN you decide to come yell at a TEENAGER, for fucks sake, and interrupt another shopper, who by the way is barely hanging on enough to shop in the first gods-be-damned place, thank you very much, and be an asshat at HER too! WOW! Way to be the adult! Go you!"



Then, I waggled my cthulu slipper under his nose and said, "Be gone, or the Elder Gods will eat you!" Put my slipper back on and found a lane to check out.



=/



I'm not very tightly strapped today.

Yes with a capital "A."



I made pulled pork barbecue tonight. Was enjoying taunting folk that *I* was going to have yummy.



I was eating my sammich.



Stupidly enough, wearing my white Three Stooges t-shirt.



...



Do I need to spell it out?



Larry, Moe and Curly are dappled now.



*licks the shirt*

Leave me. I am not subtle. I do not know the ways of insinuation and mumblemouths.



Leave me! I don't care about your damned melodramatic and insouciant unmanning of all who have the misfortune to be sucked in by your spell!



Leave me.



I bite.



I kick and claw and rend with alarming ease.



My morals are absent and my vicissitudes legendary.



Leave me ... else I will leave you bitter and broken - without intending to.



...





Leave me.

My weird, weird unsatisfactory brain is driving me up a freaking wall, and I don't even know why! I feel desperate for no reason. I have NO idea WHY I am in such freaking turmoil right now!



NOTHING is going on that should be CAUSING this. I can't settle, can't decide on anything at the moment, and nothing is working. You should probably run while you're still breathing, because I am fucking up everything I touch at the moment.



I need touch.





Nothing sexual, just contact.







I am …

How does one help with a hurt that will really only take time?



*sigh*



I wish I could do something, but as raising the dead is not one of my special abilities ... all I have are words, however well intentioned.



*hug*



That's all I have for you right now.



I'm so sorry.

From Sahahria:



I am the dyxlesic of borg. Refutance is systile; your ass will be laminated.

There are times I really should learn when to shut it instead of cartwheeling blithely across the line in the sand.



Really.



*sigh*

*pant pant*



Abject incompetence really drives me through the roof.

The man be at eighty and eight now.



Yes, YOU , you loony man.

How many Daleks does it take to change a lightbulb?



...





...





...





...





...





...







One and a half million - to conquer the race that can climb ladders.

So.



A day with the dead man.



Driving to Houston, one of those large round hay bales decided it wanted to try and come play with me and hopped off the flat bed it was on. Scared me so bad I almost peed.



Time for a rest stop!



I get to Houston, man gives excellent directions, by the way, and I meet his puppy Radar. Radar rocks.



We went for lunch ... Stacks, I think it was? Good chicken fried steak. Yes, I had some french fries too. =) mmmm Bad for you food.



After this, we decided on pool.



We both suck rocks at pool.



At least he can break.



Although, how I managed to win THREE out of FIVE (Yes THREE Phara HAHAHAMUUAAAHAHAHAHAH) games, I have no idea. It must be my astonishing (and completely fictional) skills.



The battle cry became, "Go for the two!" I couldn't get that bastard in to save my life. And it usually hid behind other balls.



Anyhow. It's funny. Laugh, whether you get it or not and move along. hehehe



Beer was consumed. And recycled. Drunk typing happened. Khayman refused to flash us (greedy bizzle), and I think Phara may now be convinced of the reality of "The Brain Cell." Know it. Fear it.



Drove towards home. Got pulled over going 96 in a 65 in Gonzales.



"Why were you going so fast, ma'am?"



"... I was ... singing along with the radio ...?"



"... What were you listening to?"



*turn volume back up* - at which time the tape had gone to the next song (which was put on the mixed tape as a joke by my friend Chris who made the silly thing), which happened to be an angry lesbian song about menstruating and urination.



...



Yeah.



...



"... *hands license back* ... Slow down ma'am." *retreat*



... Note to self: Small hispanic male police officers are intimidated by angry lesbians who bleed and pee. Right.



So.



Next time we play pool, apparently, I have to learn to break. *snort* We. Shall. See.

To have lunch with DeadPhara and then to see my god-daughter, Isobel.



=)



It looks to be a good weekend.

Good: Your wife is pregnant.

Bad: It's triplets.

Ugly: You had a vasectomy five years ago.



Good: Your wife's not talking to you

Bad: She wants a divorce.

Ugly: She's a lawyer.



Good: Your son is finally maturing.

Bad: He's involved with the women next door.

Ugly: So are you.



Good: Your son studies a lot in his room.

Bad: You find several porn movies hidden there.

Ugly : You're in them.



Good: Your hubby and you agree, no more kids.

Bad: You can't find your birth control pills.

Ugly: Your daughter borrowed them.



Good: Your husband understands fashion.

Bad: He's a cross-dresser.

Ugly : He looks better than you.



Good: You give the "birds and bees" talk to your daughter.

Bad: She keeps interrupting.

Ugly : With corrections



Good: Your son is dating someone new.

Bad: It's another man.

Ugly : He's your best friend.



Good : Your daughter got a new job.

Bad: As a hooker.

Ugly : Your co-workers are her best clients.

Way ugly: She makes more money than you do

I am gonna be a "gramma."



Probably.



When I got home, my front door was WIDE OPEN.



And my ONE CAT THAT IS NOT FIXED was filthy.



And skittish.



She'd gone into heat yesterday, and I think she got her first taste of man meat.



The wind blew my front door open.



The latch, has now been fixed.



Meh. I have enough cats!