November 16th, 2006


Those Shoes are mine, Betch!!

If you've seen the Kelly video Shoes, you'll be happy to know we've got an interview with Kelly creator Liam Sullivan up on Moron Life right now. :)

If you've NOT see the video... well, you should check it out, cause it's just way too funny not to watch.

These shoes cost $300

Ooooh that smell...

I really like to buy those big CostCo sized things of laundry soap. Liquid or powder doesn't really matter. But I like having a consistent smell to my clothes for a long period of time. Eventually, you lose track of the smell all together, because it's around you on everything you wear, sleep in, dry off with... you know what I mean.

But what's even better is when you get to the end of the huge container of laundry soap, and it's time to buy a new one. That's when I like to fuck with my nose and get a DIFFERENT laundry soap. Then, for a good two weeks, it's like I'm wearing someone else's clothes, sleeping in someone else's bed... it's a mind game I like to play with myself.

Recently, the end of the soap container time came around, and I picked up a new container. Late one night, as I am usually up pretty late, I noticed it was really cold out, and as I tend to leave my window cracked open just a bit so I won't completely acclimate to the California weather, I decided it was time to break out the flannel comforter cover (Duvet? I dunno).

This was at 2AM. So off I went to find the box it had been stashed in since I left Massachusetts. It was located quickly, and put into the wash with the new soap. Mmmmmm, my nose was tingling in anticipation of nuzzling down into a new scented flannel happy place all night.

So I sat at my computer and worked on random stuff like Moron Life and catching up on LJ and all that until the wash was done. Then came drier time. It was now getting on to be around 2:30 in the morning ish, and I was starting to headbob a little.

But I kept up until the buzzer on the drier let me know that my flannel was now warm and dry.

The race to the bedroom was exhilirating. I had taken the old comforter cover off and put it in the laundry pile prior to this, so the only thing I had to do was put the new one on, turn off the light, and climb into bed, surrounded by right-out-of-the-drier-new-smelly goodness.

And it was GLORIOUS. The room was freakin cold, but I was wrapped in a little sheet of heaven.

It was in the wee hours of the morning, when I was completely wrapped in flannel goodness, though, that I made my biggest mistake.

When it gets really chilly, I pull the comforter over my head and burrow way down under the covers to revel in the warmth. What I wasn't counting on, though, is wrapping the comforter so tightly around myself that I couldn't readily extract myself from within. And as the sun rose, I inadvertently gave myself a Dutch Oven. Let me tell you, no matter how good the comforter smells, all memory of it is erased when you wake up to that. Oy veh.

So let that be a lesson to you, children. Always have an escape route. Always.

Recovering from the trauma
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Color me Wicked Retahded

So my friend Juliette from Boston is due to be in town this weekend. So I've made sure a good portion of my schedule is clear so that we can hang out when she's free.

About 10 minutes ago, I get a phone call. I pick up, and it's my friend Julia, who spent most of the summer here. Now, I knew she said she'd be back sometime in November for a release party for the product she was working on, but I wasn't expecting it to be before the actual WEEKEND. So she asks what I'm doing tomorrow, and I tell her I'm waiting for a call from ANOTHER friend who's supposed to be in town. She asks if I want to hit the Winchester house tomorrow, which we'd talked about doing before, and I say "Sure!! My other friend was thinking about doing that, too... if we time it right, maybe we can all go together!" So we make plans to check in tomorrow morning to figure out what's going on.

And then we hang up.

And then I look at the phone number that called me.

It's a Boston area phone number.

I was talking to Juliette, not to Julia.

I am so retahded.

So I called Juliette back, straightened everything out, and we're meeting tomorrow for lunch and Winchestery goodness.

Julia, when exactly are YOU coming back???

Women shoudn't be allowed to have such similar voices... there was even a hint of "that accent" don'cha'know.
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