Month: August 2001
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Dammit. The UK Survivor application specifies that I have to have a valid UK passport to be on the show. Maybe I can con one of the guys in the office into marrying me…
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I am Cuddly Smurf. Awww, isn’t that special? (Link courtesy of Kitty Noir.) Update: Why didn’t anyone alert me to my typo? It read “Cuddy Smurf” for hours.
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A-ha! Finally, proof of what I’ve always suspected: English people are wrong with that whole “orientate” business. It drives me up the wall when I hear somebody say it. I’m like, “It’s “orient,” people. Quit cramming in extra syllables.”
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The Bangles are coming! The Bangles are coming! And I just got tickets.
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What a glorious day! As I was about to leave for work, I looked down and noticed that a new menu had been shoved through our mailslot: Papa John’s! Yeah, yeah, globalization is bad and all, but I love me some Papa. It’s cheap, it comes with garlic sauce, and it leaves a distinctive smell…
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Anyone who says “You love me” as an “all-purpose, anytime phrase… a greeting, a goodbye, or just something to throw into a pause in the coversation or to interject loudly while someone is speaking” is certifiably nuts. Exhaustion my ass. (Link courtesy of little.yellow.different.)
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Wow. Noxema girl killed somebody!
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Feminist bile rising in throat…
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“Scientists to Defend Human Cloning Plans in U.S.” I’ve only got one thing to say about that: Me Stan. Butt chomp! Butt chewy chomp! Butt chewy chomp! (More at Beef-cake.com.)
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Dude, I wish I had an Aeron chair. We’ve got these crappy ones that get all crooked and wonky. And mine’s got these horrible armrests that I’m about to break off. In order to fit them under my desk so I’m not four feet away from the keyboard, I’ve got to lower the seat a…