hallucinations – Sam and Max style

on my voice mail.

BEEP – heh heh heh heh ::Snort:: Roooooooooh Hahahahahahaha I am no-one- – I am resisolobussss BRRrraaaauuugh ::thupthupthup::

I think it’s demonically possessed, or my buddy Dan is up to his old tricks.

My fave interjection of the moment. “Holy Jumping Mother O’ God in a sidecar with chocolate jimmies and a lobster bib!”

Give me a root beer popsicle to dip into an orange julius. It’s good. Trust me on this one.

Argh. I was wondering… why did they name the mission to the moon for Apollo, the god of the sun? Why not Diana? or Some other moon-like thing, like the green cheese express? It doesn’t make sense to me. I bet you can breathe on the moon. They can in all the movies… I bet it was just the candy-butt astronauts were too afraid to try taking off their precious helmets. Sissies. Ah, probably not. I’m jealous because you have to be between 5’8″ and 6 foot tall to be a spaceman. I look out my window, and see murky outlines of terrible immense beings lumbering thorugh a nightmarish cityscape. They’re trundling toward me… is scurrying pathetically away like an earwig an altogether unmanly thing to do? ::removes brain from convolution analyzer:: Hm. Twisty.

Thinking about my need for groceries. I realize that I shouldn’t shop when hungry or conscious. the grocery store near me has great stuff, from amusement park quality lunch meat, to matzo balls (with free launcher inside!). Cereal. a Delicious thing. the smell of polyvinyl, day-glo and glow-in the dark treats…the last time I got Cap’n Crunch, the toys inside expressed themselves as possessed evil spirits strolling in and out of the cosmic doggy-door between here and the hereafter. The air was filled with a preternatural evil, not unlike the after effects of a coney island hot dog, as described to me, very recently by an increasingly pregnant friend. I began to scream like a grandmother, fleeing for my life from the manifestation of the collective sorrow and frustration of all those people whose apple cart and roadside beef stand businesses were steamrolled into the ground by the cold, sterile megamart like the one I was in. Or it was a ghost. I channeled my energies in a more positive direction instead, and bit the foul toy creature repeatedly. In my victory over them one thing ran through my mind, again and again. Don’t forget the pop-tarts.

I’m officially slap happy. I’m going to bed. ugh.


looking over the popular interests page and discovered that swimming is more popular than sex

I live by the beach. Am I doing sometihng wrong? I was also surprised to find Tori Amos was more popular than food.

Science fiction beats out chocolate? what? nope, I deny that.

For what it’s worth, livejournal is apparently more interesting than money or religion. Why aren’t there more paid members? I think I’m sending brad my $$ this Friday, when I get paid, as this is easily the most frequent program I use or think about these days.

Sunday… lovely, and I still have another day off!

Didn’t make it to Norton today, mind/body fried from the last week’s exhausting schedule. Skipped everway too. I did, however get the first supers game with the Hunters in, and that was quite fun. 1930’s setting, Characters are – Hawkman clone, Prof Tick-Tock (makes clockwork doodads for assorted needs), Lucky Lil (occultist/probability manipulation), H. Wu (magic Sword, chi blast anti-tong), Noodles the Clown (cursed comedian with magic pants. Really.), and Piston (Cyborg [1930’s style- think robocop powered by pneumatics]). seems to be an occult theme running through it, at least this session.

Went to see (you guessed it!) Godzilla 2k with my little brother this evening, (Now that I’ve seen it more than 3 times, I can see where I would’ve edited it more, especially at the beginning, for tighter time.) after that, we went out to dinner at big pink, the tasty food source right next door. Yummy Hummus opener, and veggie-burger meal. Bro ate a carno-burger, and we gabbed for a while.

walked along los Olas, talked about stuff, and we looked at the boats and mocked the goofy rich people & drank orange slurpees. His apartment is small, and nicely Spartan, but no worse than my own shoebox. 🙂

Newton has been quite a good little guy these last couple of weeks, I think he’s preferring the bachelor life. (Nobody else in the apt to take my attention from him, I think)

some questions.

How does the guy who drives the snowplow get to work in the mornings?

If nothing ever sticks to Teflon, how do they make Teflon stick to the pan?

If you have your finger touching the rearview mirror that says — “objects in mirror are closer than they appear”, how can that be possible?

What really causes that thing we call ‘static cling’, and what do ‘fabric softener’ companies know that we don’t?

When they ship Styrofoam, what do they pack it in?

Why are there interstate highways in Hawaii?

Why did kamikaze pilots wear helmets?

Why is it so hard for me to remember how to spell MNEMONIC?

Why is there an expiration date on sour cream?

Why, after you hear see a new word, you then see it three or four times in the same week?

Welcome to my wall scrawls.