Yeah, I was looking at our cats last night, trying to figure out what funny captions I could put under their pictures if they were doing something cute.

All these years later and "Jesus Christ Pose" still kicks a lotta ass.

...you are staring at me like I...like I need to be saved...

well that holdover was awful, wasn't it?

At least I still got to talk to all of my boys. I love you guys!

That's great!
Is that Jessica Biel?

Flowers fly across the room
Vase is smashed against the floor
Said "I'd rather be alone
Take your chocolates and go home"

Be My Valentine
Be My Valentine
Be My Valentine
Be My Valentine

They say times makes things easier
But only time will tell
Said we'd go the distance
But I guess it's just as well

You're blossoming all over
While I whither on the line
I just called to tell you that I
Hope you're doin' fine

Be My Valentine
Be My Valentine
Be My Valentine
Be My Valentine

If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born, an what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth. In the first place, that stuff bores me, and in the second place, my parents would have about two hemorrhages apiece if I told anything pretty personal about them. They're quite touchy about anything like that, especially my father. They're nice and all--I'm not saying that--but they're also touchy as hell. Besides, I'm not going to tell you my whole goddam autobiography or anything. I'll just tell you about this madman stuff that happened to me around last Christmas just before I got pretty run-down and had to come out here and take it easy. I mean that's all I told D.B. about, and he's my brother and all. He's in Hollywood. That isn't too far from this crumby place, and he comes over and visits me practically every week end. He's going to drive me home when I go home next month maybe. He just got a Jaguar. One of those little English jobs that can do around two hundred miles an hour. It cost him damn near four thousand bucks. He's got a lot of dough, now. He didn't use to. He used to be just a regular writer, when he was home. He wrote this terrific book of short stories, The Secret Goldfish, in case you never heard of him. The best one in it was "The Secret Goldfish." It was about this little kid that wouldn't let anybody look at his goldfish because he'd bought it with his own money. It killed me. Now he's out in Hollywood, D.B., being a prostitute. If there's one thing I hate, it's the movies. Don't even mention them to me.

Where I want to start telling is the day I left Pencey Prep. Pencey Prep is this school that's in Agerstown, Pennsylvania. You probably heard of it. You've probably seen the ads, anyway. They advertise in about a thousand magazines, always showing some hotshot guy on a horse jumping over a fence. Like as if all you ever did at Pencey was play polo all the time. I never even once saw a horse anywhere near the place. And
underneath the guy on the horse's picture, it always says: "Since 1888 we have been molding boys into splendid, clear-thinking young men." Strictly for the birds. They don't do any damn more molding at Pencey than they do at any other school. And I didn't know anybody there that was splendid and clear-thinking and all. Maybe two guys. If that many. And they probably came to Pencey that way.

Anyway, it was the Saturday of the football game with Saxon Hall. The game with Saxon Hall was supposed to be a very big deal around Pencey. It was the last game of the year, and you were supposed to commit suicide or something if old Pencey didn't win. I remember around three o'clock that afternoon I was standing way the hell up on top of Thomsen Hill, right next to this crazy cannon that was in the Revolutionary War and all. You could see the whole field from there, and you could see the two teams bashing each other all over the place. You couldn't see the grandstand too hot, but you could hear them all yelling, deep and terrific on the Pencey side, because practically the whole school except me was there, and scrawny and faggy on the Saxon Hall side, because the visiting team hardly ever brought many people with them.

There were never many girls at all at the football games. Only seniors were allowed to bring girls with them. It was a terrible school, no matter how you looked at it. I like to be somewhere at least where you can see a few girls around once in a while, even if they're only scratching their arms or blowing their noses or even just giggling or something. Old Selma Thurmer--she was the headmaster's daughter--showed up at the games quite often, but she wasn't exactly the type that drove you mad with desire. She was a pretty nice girl, though. I sat next to her once in the bus from Agerstown and we sort of struck up a conversation. I liked her. She had a big nose and her nails were all bitten down and bleedy-looking and she had on those damn falsies that point all over the place, but you felt sort of sorry for her. What I liked about her, she didn't give you a lot of horse manure about what a great guy her father was. She probably knew what a phony slob he was.

The reason I was standing way up on Thomsen Hill, instead of down at the game, was because I'd just got back from New York with the fencing team. I was the goddam manager of the fencing team. Very big deal. We'd gone in to New York that morning for this fencing meet with McBurney School. Only, we didn't have the meet. I left all the foils and equipment and stuff on the goddam subway. It wasn't all my fault. I had to keep getting up to look at this map, so we'd know where to get off. So we got back to Pencey around two-thirty instead of around dinnertime. The whole team ostracized me the whole way back on the train. It was pretty funny, in a way.

The other reason I wasn't down at the game was because I was on my way to say good-by to old Spencer, my history teacher. He had the grippe, and I figured I probably wouldn't see him again till Christmas vacation started. He wrote me this note saying he wanted to see me before I went home. He knew I wasn't coming back to Pencey.

I forgot to tell you about that. They kicked me out. I wasn't supposed to come back after Christmas vacation on account of I was flunking four subjects and not applying myself and all. They gave me frequent warning to start applying myself--especially around midterms, when my parents came up for a conference with old Thurmer--but I didn't do it. So I got the ax. They give guys the ax quite frequently at Pencey. It has a very good academic rating, Pencey. It really does.

Jonny Greenwood is the Controller

re: undo

that's the whole trouble. you can't ever find a place that's nice and peaceful, because there isn't any. you may think there is, but once you get there, when you're not looking, somebody'll sneak up and write "fuck you" right under your nose. try it sometime

Peaceful Apathy: a SOMBie never quits
Peaceful Apathy: a sombies a sombie when the chips are down
Farty McCrablite: no dan
Farty McCrablite: thats a goonie
Farty McCrablite: goonies never quit
Farty McCrablite: sombies die lonely

"no! you were the one chosen by the hand of the dark lord. you are the sword of michael!"

I googled pudding pops and this came up:

I don't get cat pictures with 'funny' sayings on them. Especially from grown men.

I can neither explain nor deny their appeal to grown men.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xs-tl6GBOBo

http://www.okcupid.com/tests/take?testid=6...81595<br><br>
<div style="border:1px solid black;background-color:white;color:black;text-align:center;">
My score on <a href="http://www.okcupid.com/tests/take?testid=6003783743970681595">The Eddie Izzard Test</a>:<br /><br />
<span
style="font-size:18pt;font-weight:bold;">Action Transvestite</span><br
/><span
style="font-size:12pt">(Ich bin ein Berliner! You scored 68!)</span><br
/><br /><img src="http://is3.okcupid.com/mt_pics/956/9567789765875166006/6003783743970681595-2.jpg" /><br /><br /><div style="text-align:center;padding:10px;">Good work, Sonny Jim. Brush up a little more and you'll have it!</div><br /><br />
Link: <a href="http://www.okcupid.com/tests/take?testid=6003783743970681595">The Eddie Izzard Test</a>
</div>
<br>

p.s., you don't have to sign up for an account. Just Click the "one last section" button without putting in any info

New Legoland Park coming to Missouri.

Looks like it is over by Kansas City.

Heh heh heh heh...

Will I die if I eat ground beef that's been frozen for 8 months? I thawed it... still pink and seemingly okay. Damn, if I'm not craving tacos.

Give it a shot and let us know.

Stick with the produce

Hell, at least I'll go out on a good meal.

Edit: You won't die if you eat 8-month-old ground beef, but you'll be choking down some horrendous tacos. Yuck. So okay, tuna tacos it is.

(Cue the snickers.)

Really? Horrendous how? If it was frozen the whole time, how can it go bad (or degrade to the extent that a flood of habañero sauce won't drown out its flaws)? Tuna tacos sound way worse. Waaaay worse.

Let me into your view
I wanna know how you see this thing that's us
I must keep managing my madness over you

It's true
I'm blue
And without you...

I'm not right
I'm not fine
I wanna be rain that tastes like wine
I wanna be good
I wanna be great
I wanna be everything except for your mistake

I know we all knew he was talented, but Paves has some mad skillz. (see, even in writing on the internet I can't pull that off.) I saw Paves perform at his school last night, and I have to say I'm incredibly jealous of his talent. Good job Paves!

So my brain doesn't work right anymore. I was talking to my dad on the phone, and I smelled pesto, so I thought "hmm he's making pesto, pesto is awesome." Then I realized you can't fucking smell things over the phone.

Wow.

So you really are the cousin of that one guy. And you were at that thing. And I probably met you when I was seven years old at one of those parties that his parents always used to have. Weird.

wa da tah

Happy v-day, kids

Why does every new coat I buy have loose buttons, forcing me to wield a needle and thread within the first week?

Valentine's day. There's no escape. Help me.




You know you are a domestic goddess. Quit frontin'.

I'm the guitar player's cousin. I was there with his parents. I thought about saying hi, but then I thought about how it would look when a 38 year old chick comes up to a 16 year old kid and says "Hi, I know you from the internet." So I didn't.

You were really good. I'm very impressed.

His friends would have thought Paves is the king of the internet he must teach us his mad skillz

I have stumbled on the plains
Staggered in the wind
Stood at a crossroad or two
Cried to a river
Swept to the sea
All just to get to you

I have flagged a yellow cab
Hopped a rusty freight
Sang till my lips turned blue
Flown a silver bird
On the tops of the clouds
All just to get to you

I ran too hard
I played too Rough
I gave my Love
Not near Enough
I bled too red
I cried too blue
I beat my fist
Against the moon
All just to get to you

I have run from St. Paul
To Wichita Falls
Call'd you from sunny Baton Rouge
Hocked everything
From my watch to my ring
All just to get to you

I ran too hard
I played too Rough
I gave you Love
Not near Enough
I bled too red
I cried too blue
I beat my fist
Against the moon
All just to get to you

From the California Shore
Where the mighty ocean roars
To the lands of the Hopi and the Sioux
I walked the desert sands
Crossed the Rio Grande
All just to get to you

I have stumbled on the plains
Staggered in the wind
Stood at a crossroad or two
Cried to a river
Swept to the sea
All just to get to you

I have stumbled on the plains
Staggered in the wind
Stood at a crossroad or two
Cried to a river
Swept to the sea
All just to get to you

I have flagged a yellow cab
Hopped a rusty freight
Sang till my lips turned blue
Flown a silver bird
On the tops of the clouds
All just to get to you

I ran too hard
I played too Rough
I gave my Love
Not near Enough
I bled too red
I cried too blue
I beat my fist
Against the moon
All just to get to you

I have run from St. Paul
To Wichita Falls
Call'd you from sunny Baton Rouge
Hocked everything
From my watch to my ring
All just to get to you

I ran too hard
I played too Rough
I gave you Love
Not near Enough
I bled too red
I cried too blue
I beat my fist
Against the moon
All just to get to you

Man, I am too bored.



?

I'm only 10% emo.

"Okay... so you're not emo at all.. you're probably not even goth, because goths are just messed up emo kids... you're probably a metal head... or into boy bands..."

Not far off.

I asked a question and the magic 8 ball told me it's very likely. I hope the magic 8 ball isn't teasing me.

Something resembling shit is on the lip of an office urinal. I don't want to know.

My furnace broke sometime last night. My mom gets up at like 7 and starts griping that she's cold. "I must be coming down with something. My hands are like icicles. My feet are freezing. Blah blah blah" So I'm still all cozy in my covers trying to sleep and I tell her to keep it down, I'm trying to sleep it's cold today and you're old so just deal with it. She keeps babbling. So I get up to go to the bathroom and I'm like "damn, I feel cold too, maybe we're both coming down with something" But I did check the thermostat and it said 55. Fuck. I go downstairs to look at the furnace. I don't know why as I know nothing about the workings of a furnace. The basement must be like 45 degrees by this point. So I look at the furnace... yup it's not running. Do I smell gas? No. Ok, that's good. That's the extent of my expertise. I call the furnace people. Nice lady answers the phone, I say "the furnace broke" she says "What's the temperature?" I tell her. She seems unphased. Says she'll send someone out before early afternoon. I call work, tell them my furnace broke. I apologize to my mother for calling her an old fart. I let her to go sit on the couch and throw some blankets on her. I make coffee. I wait. I recall that the furnace is 10 years old almost to the the day because the last furnace we had exploded in Jan 1997. That is another story. 11:15 am, service guy calls, asks if it's ok to come over. "Uh yea, dummass, we're cold" Take service guy to the basement, explain that the sound he's hearing is the waterfall in the pond room. He gets the "wtf" look on his face so I show him the pond room. Spends 10 minutes feeding the fish. Finally goes to look at the furnace. Just looks at it. Hell, I did that. Then says to me it is an error code 14. Wha? How the fuck do you get that just by looking at it? So he shows me there's this little blinky light that blinks the error code. Ok, nice, I learned something new, now wtf does a 14 mean? He says its electrical and finally opens up the furnace door. He takes a volt/ampmeter thingy and plugs it into things. Is it getting power? yes. Can the fan run? yes. Is the gas valve plugged up? no. Is the circuit board ok? yup. So now he takes these metal things out of the furnace one by one and blows through them. I ask what he's doing and he says he's cleaning the burners. "Oh was that the problem?" I ask. He says no. Ok... Then he checks my filter and tells me it's dirty, I should replace it. So I give him a new one and he sticks it in. "Was that the problem?" I ask. Nope. Ok....... So I've been adding $100 in my head every time the 'easy' things he checked were ok and I am up to $500 and starting to get a little nervous. Finally (yes finally) he sticks his little ampmeter wire to something and says "Aha" It's the ignitor. It should be reading 5 or 6 and mine was reading .03 not good. "What's the ignitor", I ask. So he pulls out this thing that looks like a 6 inch bent wire with ceramic on one end. "well" I say, "that looks tiny, that can't cost much" "You'd be surprised" he says. "It's made out of cadmium and it's pretty pricey. He's going to go to his truck and get a new one. Fuck. What does pricey mean? Now I'm worried. He comes back in with a new piece of bent (cadmium) wire with ceramic on one end. He puts it in. He hooks up the meter to it. Sure thing, it reads 6.5. He puts it all back together. Then he gets that metal clipboard thingy where they keep their invoices and starts to write. Fuck. This could be bad. I think I only have like $600 in the checking account. He finishes writing. Tells me it came to $188, $108 for the part and $80 for the labor. I could kiss the man I'm so happy. I give him a check and send him on his way. I wait for half an hour to make sure the house is warming up. I take a blanket or 2 off my mom so she can move and I go to work. Temp at 62 degrees and rising.

the end

How much did you charge him for feeding your fish?

I'm surprised he didn't charge me for that

Jess, can I get the cliff notes? I'm at work right now. No time to read novellas.