I see things...I see them with my eyes.

The news reported that a terrorist Kung-Fu master was arrested about 15 minutes away from where I live. For some reason that doesn't disturb me as much as the sight I saw during the commercials.

Kool-Aid Man now wears pants.

Kool-Aid Man, the giant pitcher that busts through walls and contains fruity goodness now has to wear kakhi big-boy pants. What is the world coming to?

(Oh yeah, Stevie Wonder's As is on the radio. Yay, Stevie!)

I see things...I see them with my eyes.

Recipes of the weird.

I have a pine tree in my front yard, and whenever I'm standing around (a common occurance), I stare at the tree and wonder what pine needles would taste like.

Keep in mind that I'm not hep to Korean recipes, and had no idea that Kim Jong Il told his people to go eat pine needles until today, when I looked up whether I would die from ingesting pine needles. Seeing they were food in some places made me feel a little better about what I'd done.

I picked some new pine needles off the tree and ate them. They tasted great! I mean, yeah, I drool when I smell freshly sawed wood, so...I probably have more in common with the termites than I care to accept, but...damn, they tasted really good. At first it tastes as you would expect a pine needle to taste, but then there's like....pine juice or something in them. No, it isn't squirrel urine, it tastes like pine.

I just got some vitamin C and may be flammable now. I was also pooped on by a bird, this is shaping up to be an exciting weekend.

Recipes of the weird.

A thought about unfortunate automobile names.

I would not ride in a Toyota Highlander unless it was driven by Connor McCloud himself. Even then, although no one on Scotland's roads would fight him, I'd worry about travelling with the guy.

A thought about unfortunate automobile names.

Drive-By Hi.

Haven't been around, but Revenge of the Sith kicks ass, and the result of American Idol doesn't surprise me in the least. My inner conspiracy theorist screams "rigged," but then it also screams "bigger fan base," and you know, when I saw Constantine come out and sing Walk This Way, I really did think there would be a mic stand duel...but no. Ah well.

I swear Fox puts subliminal "Watch me!" messages into their commercials, because I now want to see that dorky AI dancing edition. Just because it looks really bad.

Speaking of really bad, this happens to even the best Jedi.

Drive-By Hi.

I got your midnight premiere of Star Wars right here.

I just witnessed something glorious.

Oh, and here's a big spoiler:

*ahem*

This is what automotive touch-up paint does to you. Learn from me.

I got your midnight premiere of Star Wars right here.

What I would like Lite-FM to play.

The car and I survived inspection day, and I even got a story to tell...but not now. It's 10¢ listing day on eBay and I have a Vader head that turns into Bespin I've been trying to sell for six years.

But I found this, and was amused/terrified by it: Paul Anka has recorded Eyes Without a Face, The Love Cats, Eye of the Tiger, and more...so much more. I miss regular FM stations that played Paul Anka, I mean, other than Vin Scelsa, I'm not guessing anyone around here will be playing this album any time soon.

(I'm not sure if I'm a good judge, but I'm listening to Wonderwall and it isn't horrible, but then I liked the Mike Flowers Pops version of that too.)

What I would like Lite-FM to play.

My weekend in candy-coated nutshell with letters on it:

Saturday: It's so long ago, that I can't remember. Cypher was good. What I liked about it most was that it didn't have a lot of impossible stuff going on in it, so it beats, say, any movie involving computers made in Hollywood. Yay.

Sunday: was day three after taking my allergy pill, so I had a nosebleed. I love my sinuses. I also finished the "results" of the first round in Galactic Idol.

Today, I finally got the paint to fix my car. What happened to the car, you may wonder, and I will of course tell you. We had a wind storm that came up a few weeks back, and I had been telling anyone who would listen that the neighbor's chimney was looking unwell, but, of course, the antenna attached to the chimney finally cut through it and bricks went a-flyin'. Two bricks landed on our roof, one chip of a brick bounced off my car. My poor, sweet, car.

People tell me my car's old, so I had to wait three weeks for the color to be made up. "GA," is the shade my car is painted. I like to call it dark plum, but hey, "GA" it is.

The label on the paint is fun. Basically I'm going to die or spawn three-headed creatures some day just for opening the bottle, but the color is perfect, so for once I've done something good for my car. Tomorrow it goes for its physical, so that should bring more entertaining tales. If not, I'll rehash some old ones.

(on my radio is Fluke's cover of Blue Monday. Yay!)

My weekend in candy-coated nutshell with letters on it:

Haven't done anything Blogworthy yet.....

but the day is still...well, light, at least.

I'm going to regret wasting the good weather when it's 80 degrees outside and I still have things to paint and prune.

Fade to Grey from Visage was on, but now the DJ is talking. I'm starting to see why Blogger doesn't have a LJ-like current music form.

Haven't done anything Blogworthy yet.....

I lived!

Rite-Aid has restocked with the correct pills and I am cured. I have never been so happy to take drugs. Then again, the happiness could be caused by the allergy pill, because it does make me really, really, really happy for a few days, then...I won't go there, because today, I am too happy!

I converted a PAL DVD to NTSC, and it actually works (oh, happiness)! I had never converted from PAL to NTSC before, mainly because I never needed to, but it wasn't as scary as I thought it would be. Unless I have no fear because the allergy pill also cures poltroon (I have now used the word three times in one hour, and I don't know why...something in the back of my mind just makes me want to).

But back to the DVD, the movie is Cypher, a two-year-old, obscure sci-fi film from England starring Jeremy Northam and Lucy Liu that must be so great, it was too good to be released here, the country that gave the film world Return to 'Salem's Lot. I hope that when I finally watch Cypher, it was worth all the work. Even if it's bad, I'll probably enjoy it because I really like Jeremy Northam.

I used to go into newgroups and message boards and pretend to not be a girl. I don't I think I was very convincing, and the squealing about actors, cats and dogs may have something to do with it.

Living on the Ceiling by Blancmange is playing on my computer, and I'm happy!

I lived!

I am not all sunshine and rainbows.

It will never matter how far I get in life, where I go, what I do, I will always have allergies. They're like an evil sister or something, the one you've got to take with you because no one else wants to be around her. It's fun, we just get someplace important, and she jams a buffalo wing up my nose. As I'm dealing with that, she pushes me over into the sand and jumps on my head, screaming loudly and waving a lit flashlight at me. No one else can really do anything about it, because after all, she's my responsibility.

Mind you, if my allergies really were another person, I could just duct tape her to the refrigerator and go far away.

Sadly, they're not. So here I am at the end of another day where the pills I took for the sneezing did nothing but make my nose run really well. The neighbor's kids probably think I hate them, because I wouldn't look directly at them for fear they would see what was going on with my upper lip and run away. I would like very much to sleep, but that won't happen, because the allergy pill is like SPEED. It doesn't stop the allergies, but I can smash through walls better than the Kool-Aid man.

Now playing on my radio: Bhakti by Ishq on Echoes. Even I'm not sure what I just wrote, but it sounds good.

I am not all sunshine and rainbows.

I will elaborate when it becomes funny. *sniffle*

American Idol kicked off the Russian kid that I liked. Now I have to like the hippie guy. Or maybe I shouldn't like him, that way he'll have a chance. Because it really comes down to the universe finding out what I like and taking that away, don't you know. Fat Frog ice cream pops, for instance. Alternative Rock radio in New York, non-psuedoephedrine allergy medication, Steinwurtzel pants, all gone. Maybe radio plays a Green Day song here and there, but that hardly makes up for the rest.

There are commercials playing on my radio. So sad.

I will elaborate when it becomes funny. *sniffle*

The hardest part of babbling is giving a title to each segment.

Now wafting through my headphones: Planet Claire by the B-52s.

I should warn everyone that doesn't know me well from other places that I am extremely random. I've admitted it, but I'm not taking any measures to cure myself yet. Generally what happens is I start talking about a movie and end up discussing the poor drainage on those resin planter urns. You know the ones I'm talking about, they fill up with rain water and eventually the stuff planted in them drowns and only ground cover survives and takes over every inch of the soil.

I used to be able to multi-task really well when I was young, but just now I was taking a quiz that would tell me what kind of panties I am, and at the same time I was taking one of those surveys that always promises to give me a dollar if I tell them what kind of paper towels I like, and I sat here for a few seconds wondering why the panty quiz needed to know my zipcode, annual income and highest education level.

The panty quiz told me I'm a style of panties I don't even like and then tried to sell me underwear. I should have known it would come to that, it always does.


Anyway.


I don't know why, but I'm still watching American Idol. It became rather uninteresting two weeks ago with the departure of Constantine--who may not have been the best singer in some people's minds, but was around my age and therefore didn't make me feel pervy for liking him--and I expect it will just go downhill from here. This is where I usually say I won't get into the show again if it comes back next year. I say that every year.

I am also waiting for Star Wars, Revenge of the Sith, and I can brag that I'll be waiting an extra-long time, because I'm waiting for the DVD. (I like watching movies in a room with people I know. Plus, I'm busy.) I started celebrating the last two weeks by playing the soundtrack--one track a day--until the 19th, because I'm that much of a nerd. Tonight I hit track 8, and that song is creepy; totally sounds unlike Star Wars music when it starts out. Speaking of which, I hope Meco does a Revenge of the Sith tribute.

Channeling my fandom into that keenspace site of mine seemed like the next logical step one very late night in March. I rarely go through with the things I think up at four in the morning, and my comic could be a good reason to stick to that rule, but like my randomness, I enjoy it.

Okay, that's enough. Must...stop...now.

The hardest part of babbling is giving a title to each segment.

With a noise like a hundred thousand people saying "whop," I suddenly seemed to create myself out of nothing in the air. Again.

I generally don't do intro posts, I merely appear, stay a while, and then leave. This is a recurring theme in my life, offline as well as online. I have four blogs on blogger, three of which I'll never return to, so I'm starting over again here. With an intro post. Daring, yeah?

The names Bride of Porkins and Sister Pepper Spray of Looking at All Sides of the Question seem to be what I am now. I mean, if Dracula can have brides, so can Porkins. He just happens to blow stuff up when he flys around. I also got a Universal Unitarian Jihad name a while back and I'll be damned if it didn't make sense to me. Sadly, most of what I write makes sense to only me.

The things I do to be able to comment....

Because blogger still hasn't ripped off LJ's "current music" feature, I'm going to write in what I'm listening to because I'm that weird about music. Overkill-Men At Work. Yay for old-ass '80s music!

With a noise like a hundred thousand people saying "whop," I suddenly seemed to create myself out of nothing in the air. Again.