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• photos •
• little loves • Eddie Cibrian's Dimples
Because c'mon! Shame on Invasion's slowburn peril for not providing them a more frequent showcase. Wentworth Miller
He's my boyfriend. He is. No, he just is. He's all green-eyed, widow's-peaked, melting-pot hotness and oiled-massage voice. He's it. • past loves • |
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OK, I'm giggling quietly just thinking about it. My favorite new phrase is: "He/She needs to tan it down a notch." It's funny cuz it's true. I just wish more real people needed to tan it down a notch (hee!) so that I could walk around the city amused by leathery orange folk everywhere. Maybe I just need to start hanging around people who emulate celebrities. Maybe I can recruit The One Who Doesn't Talk to report back on the Californians who need to tan it down a notch (hee!). I'm sure there are plenty. Which is weird, huh? They have sunshine year round. Why are they wasting time fake-baking? You'd think We of the Fish Belly White Flesh here in the mighty Land of Flyover would be bigger abusers. Hunh. Best lyric from the song playing just this second? We went to the Philly Pizza Company And ordered some hot tea The waitress said well no, we only have it iced So we jumped up on the table and shouted anarchy And someone played a Beach Boys song on the jukebox It it was "California Dreamin" So we started screamin On such a winter's day Such a classic! jlb | 15:23 Remember what a picky eater Girl-Bart was as a child? Or how The Fat Guy has apparently become one in his coach captain years? Yeah, that's nothing. Tins of cat food were 5/$2.00 yesterday, so I decided to mix it up a bit. I thought the cats would enjoy something other than their usual Flaked Tuna with Cheese Bits. After all, they always want a taste of what I'm eating -- even when tomato sauce, curry or other ingredients one would expect to be unpalatable to felines is involved. I didn't get too crazy. I know they're too lazy to actually, you know, chew their food, so I didn't get any of the "fancy" meat chunks in luscious gravy varieties. I stuck to the mush that Larabee licks far too daintily from her bowl so that Scooter, who has hoovered his portion in ten seconds flat, shoulders her out of the way and gobbles up a good half of what she received. And I even stuck to fish. Salmon Supreme, however, turned out to be a very bad idea. When I set the bowls on the floor this morning, Larabee dove (delicately) in. Scooter, on the other hand, gave the stuff a cursory sniff and looked up at me like, "What the fuck is this shit?" He jumped back on the counter while I refilled the water dish and tracked my every movement as if he thought maybe he was hallucinating and his cheesy tuna breakfast was yet forthcoming. I explained to him, as you would a small child, that Salmon Supreme was his breakfast and if he didn't want to eat it, he would just have to go hungry. Not unexpectedly, he spent the next half hour in a pout the likes of which only Scooter can conjure. Pouting is never enough for Scooter, though. After he has stewed in his outrage for a bit -- and has failed to affect a change in my outrageous and insulting behavior -- he concludes that I must be punished. So he ate some of the Salmon Supreme. One, maybe two, mouthfuls. Like a sap, I figured he'd just given in to his rumbling tummy and resigned himself to the food I so graciously put before him. Like a sap. For, not a minute after ingesting said mouthfuls of Salmon Supreme, the projectile vomitting began. It went on and on and on. Oh, he'd take a ten minute break every once in a while...let me have just enough time to brush my teeth...then from the other room I'd hear the yakking begin anew. By the end of it, there wasn't even anything solid left for him to bring up and I was a whole roll of paper towels poorer. And, oh, he pretended to be embarrassed -- because he knows a normal cat would be -- but I knew the truth. He undoubtedly has a sensitive stomach, but I've long suspected he exploits that fact when he doesn't get his way. There's just no way Salmon Supreme could cause that much havoc in his little digestive tract. He was just being a monumental, disgusting and smelly brat. jlb | 10:13 I'm at home today because the heat (third triple-H day in a row) is just making me sick to my stomach. I was asleep until 11 a.m., when I woke up after having this dream. I'm walking down the street, helping a blind man with a cane, who's holding onto my elbow. I'm surprised to see a big, multi-colored snake in the grass alongside the sidewalk. I start to tell the blind man about it as we pass, saying it's gotta be six-feet long. Just then, a stork lands on the sidewalk and starts eyeing the snake, or so I think. I try to shoo the stork away because I'm afraid he'll eat the snake, but while I'm making a fuss, the snake lunges over and eats the stork. It's then that I realize the stork was the blind man.A prize to the person with the best/most creative psychoanalyzation. Really. I like to give out prizes. jlb | 12:36 See this sky? This sky is called the "Ha! Suckers! Fuck you!" sky. It is infamous in the non-lovely Chicago summertime.  This sky says, "All day long, I'm going to make you think torrential rains are going to piss down at any moment. That delicious downpour will not only flood your badly drained city streets, but will provide welcome relief from the triple-H day you've been suffering. You're welcome!" The sky lies, my friends. Lies! What actually happens is that we see a brief, though impressive shower 'round about dinnertime and then the heat and humidity continue to increase overnight until the next morning when it's 90° with 90% humidity and you'd rather eat fresh poo than go in your bathroom where there's no airflow and you're instantly drenched in sweat and suicidal thoughts. Yeah, fuck you, too, sky! Digression. Dizzee Rascal's "I Luv You" makes my butt do a little jig in my chair. that girl's from school, that girl's from college that girl gives brains, that girl gives knowledge that girl gives head, that girl gives shines that girl gives bj's at all times she looks decent, she looks fine but don't talk about wifey, she's not mine she got batches, 6 in a line, believe me that's not a good sign jlb | 15:53 Ah, our construction guys are fleet. On Friday? Yeah, there was a house right here. This morning? Foundation leftovers and a garage. It made me kind of depressed because I thought it would be sort of cool to live in a house practically under the El tracks. 
jlb | 13:53 Thoughts on Spider-Man 2:
jlb | 02:07 |
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• the glow •
What stars? That's the glow, baby. • distractions •
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