Potato

The worst part about growing up, the absolute worst part is that you no longer lose any teeth.
Come on! That was fun, it was fun to have a wiggly tooth. I enjoyed it.
And then you got cash for it, what kind of a messed up awesome system is that? You get paid for pieces of your body falling off. How cool was that? It was very cool.
But now, no loose teeth. No grossing everyone out by bending your tooth over and showing your empty gum. If I had known at the time I lost my last tooth, that it was my last tooth I would loose, I would have savored the experienced. I would have grossed out as many people as I could in that precious time remaining. But no, I made no big deal of it. I didn't know it was the last one. Man I tell ya, there are few things I regret about my childhood, and not appreciating my loose teeth to their maximum potential is one of them. But then again, what child fully capitalizes on that? Not me, apparently.
Also, if adults could still lose teeth I think the world would be a better place. We wouldn't be in a recession if a magical fairy placed cash under our pillows every time we loose a tooth. There would be all around cuter looking faces. Come on, who doesn't love a toothy grin? Maybe not on a 30 year old, but we don't know for sure. Maybe it's sexy. The point is that we don't know and won't know what life would be like if we continued losing teeth and regrowing new ones past childhood, we could have a better America, but no. Some "higher power" up there decided we should suffer and let all the young naive children have all the fun and money. Thanks for nothing, Mother Nature.

Shmeh.

Ya know what I flippin dislike?
Owl City.
Frickin hate them/him/it.
And I hate it even more when I'm talking about "it" to some smartass who has to correct me every time I say "them". Excuse me for forgetting it's just one lame dude who decided he wanted to fool the world into thinking he had a band. Newsflash: HE'S AN IDIOT. How can you even listen to him? It's like the soundtrack to an estrogen filled robot orgy. Disgusting. Disgusting indeed.
Really, a million fireflies? Yeah, tell me about that. Vanilla Twilight, way to capitalize on the Twilight fad. Congratulations, all the hyper-obsessed teenage girls love you, as well as the partially deaf. Also, do you really need to greet an entire city in a song. Really? A simple "Hey" would do. But nooo. You had to go and produce an entire crappy CD filled with that vile filth. Good job, you can work a synthesizer, go back to the 80's. I wouldn't mind this so much if he (THEY) weren't constantly being played on the radio/sung by more people who can't sing. It's ridiculous, the fame you get for having absolutely no talent. It makes me sick, yet at the same time gives me hope. Regardless, Owl City sucks and needs to be flattened by a bulldozer.

You know what I do enjoy?
Being a detective. That's right. I'm certified. If certified means unlicensed...
But, hey, it's a step. A step towards victory, ain't that right Ms. Piggy?
If she was here she would have agreed with me. It's just a shame that she isn't. I miss her spunk.

Schnikeyz I'm tired. I will fall asleep fast tonight, it must be that bear tranquilizer shot at me earlier today. Man those things are strong. I best be hibernating now then. Goodnight non existent fan base. I do love you.

Congrats, you're moderately competent.

It's your lucky day, I'm going to write some uninspired poetry. And you better read it, 'cause if you don't then you're racist. You can't run the risk of being called racist again, not after what happened at Martha's dinner party.

Jack'o'Rabbit
Pumpkins and rabbits are not friendsbecause
if a pumpkin was furry
carving its exterior
and spilling out orange guts
would be wrong
but nobody cares
about
rabbits, so it's okay
to carve them and
put a candle
where there heart would be
happy easter.

Dumpling pie
I don't
know why
 there isn't
a market for dumpling pie
I would
 buy dumpling pie
if I had the chance
or maybe I
just want the freedom
that comes when I
decide I want to
buy
dumpling pie.


Red rocks and thumbtacks
don't be stupid
of course you like
the sea after storm
grow a brain,
then you could produce
an original idea
or 12
no pressure.

Fly
There once was a man who
knew how
to fly a kite
but he never tried until
he was 78 and he
realized he didn't
know how
to fly a kite

Shush up
If you don't stop
buzzing
and buzzing
and humming
and buzzing
I'm going to
kill you
if the lamp doesn't
first, you stupid
tiny moth.



The nature of my being is
to not only watch
but understand
with that comes
determination
and obsession
which stems questionable
tactics of the method
that gets the job done
with little to
no casualties
don't call me
jessica
my name is
not jessica

Think about it
If I wanted to tell
someone I
hated them
I would tell you
first, because
that's how much
you mean to me


Sometimes I think about life if my left thumb was missing. Life would be harder. I take for granted the need for my left thumb. How would I hold mugs with my left hand? Or tear duct tape? How would I pick up a cat without it sliding down my forearms?
What would life be like if I couldn't pick up my cat? I would become depressed. There is no point to living my life if I can't pick up my cat. I could pet the cat still, sure, but I could do that still if I was missing my whole hand. When you actually extend your arms forward and pick the cat up, under its arm things, that's when you are truly becoming one with your cat. If you don't become one with your cat, you might as well have a dog. You soulless beast. Go live in a mansion in Virginia with your 6 German Shepherds and your LACK OF THUMB. You won't need it if you son't have a cat, and if you don't have  a cat, you might as well cease to exist.
So, yeah, life would be pretty damn shitty if I didn't have my left thumb. I've never cherished a digit as much as I do know when I think about not being able to hold my cat.
Because my cat is my pimp, and I would die without holding my pimp.

My Kittens..

Hello tiny dancers, have you ever wondered what I do when I'm not updating this fine ole website 'o mine?

You probably have.

Well, TODAY'S YOUR LUCKY DAY.

'Cause it's time I introduce you to my latest hobby: fake missed connection adds on Craiglist.

You might be thinking, "Wow, that;s super weird. Why do you even look at the missed connections?"

Well, you ignorant fish, I happen to be a weird tadpole myself and sometimes these missed connections cater to my interests. Some people call it "stalking". So do I.

That, my friends, is the intrigue of perusing the missed connections section on craigslist from time to time.

I'm not going to lie, it's slightly addicting. However, the posts are corny and desperate, like most things in America. It is for this reason that I take matters into my own hands and post my own "missed connections"

Please enjoy these next few links, and trust me, there will be more. Because the creepiness will NEVER stop with me.

How do ya like them apples? HUH?

HUH?

HHHUUUHHH?

http://bellingham.craigslist.org/mis/2008670584.html

http://bellingham.craigslist.org/mis/1950771807.html

I think there's one more... But I don't know where to find it.. ENJOY.

Parce que j'aime ma chattes fromage!

Mazel Tov!

Welcome home my chickadees!

It seems there has been some sort of emergency regarding an excess mayonnaise order that turned fatal at the local Wal*Mart, so it's probably best to keep your distance until the paramedics arrive. However, we do offer an alternative route which requires several evening gowns and 10 candle sticks, but is very scenic, nonetheless. So whichever path you choose to walk, let it be known that you have my approval and I am proud of you. Because YOU are the future. YOU are America!

Who Said We're Wack?

NOSE PIERCINGS!

Yes, what about them? Here's a lovely picture to satisfy your need for visual aids. Don't worry, I'm here for you.

I think they look like your nose got in a sword fight and lost.

Or you picked a scab and have gold blood.

Or you are a dancing gold robot on the street, but didn't wash up around your nose well enough.

Or you could only afford one earing and didn't know where to put it.

Or you need help holding up your glasses.

Or you got frustrated with a manila envelope and stabbed yourself with the clasp.

Or you live on the Jersey Shore.

Or your tooth filling came out so you stuck it in your nose.

Or you rebelled from your Christian family that didn't let you dance, or look at boys, or drink grape juice, or leave the house exposing your ankles or wrists (That's a bit Mormon, I know.).

The point is, is that I like exploring all the possible situations a nose ring could be interpreted as.

Let's talk about Frosted Flakes, shall we?

Who eats Frosted Flakes?

I don't know anybody who eats Frosted Flakes. It's sad, really. I mean when you're growing up, Frosted Flakes are da bomb. But I feel like they have lost their glory. They're fading. They've been forgotten as the new decade has taken all of us in surprise.

As sad as I am about the cereal being forgotten, I'm even more destraught about Tony the Tiger. I mean, Frosted Flakes were his main source of income. What's he going to do know, with the obvious decline in Frosted Flake sales. He probably has a family, kids, a wife, maybe even a dog. He's a working man, out of a job, how is he going to provide for them, huh? Tell me that.

I haven't seen poor Tony around in a while. Come to think of it, I haven't seen Toucan Sam around for a bit either, or Sonny the Cuckoo bird.

WHAT'S HAPPENING TO AMERICA?

The friendliest, hardest workers in America are rapidly disappearing right before our very eyes. I blame it on serial killers, slaughtering the innocent cereal characters for their own sick, twisted pleasure. Gosh darn.

R.I.P. Beloved cereal characters of the 00's (? what are we supposed to call the period from 2000-2009?) and before. You'll be forever loved and eternally missed. Rest well, stay gold, Pony Boy, stay gold.

Hey dudes, what's crackin?

You ever noticed how greasy Lindsay Lohan's hair is in Freaky Friday?

No..?

Well, pfff, me neither... I haven't mindlessly been watching ABC Family while searching for the remote...

But, let's say; for some strange, but understandable, reason; you do watch Freaky Friday soon, notice the incredibly greasy hair Lindsay Lohan has... I mean, it's like, whoa, HYGIENE!

Hey, you know who sucks?

Robert Downey Jr.

I hate him. IhatehimIhatehimIhatehimIHATEHIM.

I'm sorry If I have offended his many worshippers out there, those who joined his cult, or those who admire his facial hair, but I cannot stand the man. ESPECIALLY as Tony Stark, the frickin "Iron Man" and self centered narcissist.

For those of you living under some sort of massive shield protecting you from the wrath of Iron man, here's the douche himself:

And don't try and tell me with your nasally smart ass voice that "It's just the character that is the douche", because I know, deep down inside, there is one giant douche waiting to get out.

Robert Downey Jr. has got to be somewhat of a mega douche in real life. HE HAS GOT TO BE!

Also, notice the disgusting facial hair, I mean, COME ON! what's up with the wimpy beard thing? Either grow a full beard, or shave it off and keep the 'stache, or he can dye his hair white, gain about 100 pounds, and host a cooking show like Guy Fieri.

VSDagstierdsj;ogveb/ewbgvrtj;b;bgtr!&@&T@*$&T*!!$!*!$T*&Y#*$RR^T@#@T*@

It bothers me. I'm bothered.

So what if it's "just a movie", or "not the real him at all", or "polar opposite to him in real life", or "a completely fabricated character".

Who cares if he's actually "a pleasant man", or if he "donates thousands of dollars to charities every year", or "does many nice things for people and is quite nice to be around".

I do not want to hear it.

He is a douche.

I rest my case and I want a mocha.

That's correct, I want a mocha.

Hey, quick shout out to my favorite band EVER- Permanent Childlock. I don't know where I would be without you guys. I love you.

Smashcake

Hello lady faeries.

Have you ever caught yourself in a situation where you thought, "Man, I wish i had part time unlicensed private detective here to solve this murder mystery for me..."?

I'm sure you have, because I'm sure the only readers of this are experienced murderers and their sidekicks. Obviously.

Well, since this is the case, I am at your service.

To be fair, I stole this idea completely from the HBO show Bored To Death.

It's been copied exactly.

I feel a lot better now, admitting I am a fraud. But, I don't mind too much. I think i am going to create a club, centered around this idea of being a part time unlicensed private detective. Anyone can join, so long as they have a mustache (or one they can tape on). See, that is how I differ from the show, he doesn't have a mustache. I'M ORIGINAL, DAMNIT.

Anyways, I'm sure this club will kick off swimmingly.

So, speaking of Bored To Death, the main character dude (Jason Schwartzman) looks a lot like Demetri Martin, they both have the same nose, and talk a lot alike. For this reason, i have decided they are one, they will lead the world with their comical wit, and monstrous schnozes. One has a mole on his neck, and one has one on his cheek. Potato-Potato, right? If you should want proof, I suppose I can make the effort to post a picture of each. Just because if I don't Kim Jong Il will come and take me away as a political prisoner, and I will die a slow and painful death in North Korea. They don't even have SHINee there.

Here is Demetri:

And...

Here is Jason:

Crap, bad picture. And doesn't really look like Demetri. But that's what the imagination is for. And marijuana.

I have decided that Demetri Martin and Jason Schwartzman's celebrity couple name is Jesatrin Schwartzmartin. It's a little bit long, and a not really catchy at all. But I'm sure once the public gets involved, it'll catch on. They'll be T-shirts and hats made, posters hung around the city. I'm pretty optimistic about it.

So get pumped, mofos.

Frankenbird

Hola mon amies!

Whats that? Didn't understand that insanely intelligent combination of two languages?

Yeah.. I didn't think so.

So. How's life my friends? Good. Wonderful. Very wonderful indeed.

Indeed is a funny word. Not that the actual word itself is funny, it isn't, but the context in which it's used usually leads to some sort of mild chuckle. Maybe it's just me, but "indeed" always makes me smile. I suppose the context in which it's used isn't exactly the main issue, i guess it really is the word itself. Indeed. i feel like I should be wearing a top hat and have a monocle and handlebar mustache. It's an old-timey word. It's classy.

It is the perfect thing to say when you agree with a previous statement, but you don't know how to reply, but you still want to, to show that you agree.

For example:

"Hippopotamus's are underrated."

"Indeed"

.

.

.

See? It's beautiful, right?

Yeah, I know. And you probably do too. So, why are we still dwelling on this? Well you might not be, but I know I sure am, which means that you are as well, because you are reading this and processing the meaning of these words, thus, whatever is read on here, is what you are thinking about at this very moment. Unless, of course, you are mindlessly reading this and not thinking about it all, in which case i can get away with saying just about anything, such as a fully written essay about the wonders of premature balding, or i could paste a picture of an informational pamphlet about salmon. I could do many things write now, but the point is, is that none of them would matter, because you aren't really reading this, you are mindlessly skimming this. And if you are really reading this, then congratulations for sticking with it. i know it was hard for you.

Well, it's getting late, somewhere in the world. It's funny how that works, isn't it? It is.

I'm sure you have something productive you should be doing right now, so I'll let you go so you can get back to that. If you are even really reading this. of course you are. well, not like you would even be able to reply if you weren't... Ha.

Until next time, my deranged stalker cats, until next time.

Plum Tree, Plum Tree

Happy Birthday to you.

Happy Birthday to you.

Happy Birthday dear... Jessica?

Happy Birthday to you!

.

.

Huh, oh.

Excuse me, Happy Birthday, Natasha!

Thank you Kristen Wiig. For that wonderfully awkward scene from The Brothers Solomon. Which nobody but me likes, by the way. The nerve of some people.

But that last bit reminds me just how funny awkward humor can be.

Don't know what awkward humor is? You must be an idiot. Or maybe you just don't understand the complicated world of awesomeness.

Well, a prime example of awkward humor is basically anything from The Office, which reminds me... Why are awkward times so funny hen you watch them on T.V., but not so funny when you are living them. Nobody ever just bursts out laughing at a completely deadpan awkward moment, and i think they should. Thats part of the fun of everything. Or maybe I've eaten one too many soap boxes and need to reconsider my dwindling sanity.

Wow, this topic seems to serious to belong on here, my lovely collection of soulful selections.

So on with more crazy and less normality. I don't think that is necessarily called normality, but i think you catch my drift, if ya know what i'm saying. hell, I don't know what i'm saying, and if you do.. then you must be a SPY.

Called it, totally called it.

Fish sticks, you ever noticed how nobody eats fish stick anymore?

When did fish sticks stop being the big thing?

Fish stick night was the best night ever as I can remember. It was pretty damn awesome.

Well, this is going nowhere, so it may be best to leave you here and now.I wish you best of luck in the harsh, cold world out there. You can do it, kiddo, i know you can.

(On a somewhat related note: I hate the word kiddo, it is so annoying.

Well why did you use it then, Mrs. Hypocrite?

I DON"T KNOW, ok?

All I know is that I have some serious bad connections with that word. one may or may not be an old hippy with white hair, who tried to give up starbucks. She lasted one day, then yelled at me. Until another hippy type came in and took over for her, yelling at me. All i was doing was looking at a freakin dog. Damn hippies and their short tempers. Go back to the weed.

Oh, whats that?

You don't smoke?

Yeah, then dont come here dressed like that with a Jimmi Hendrix rasta cloth, play rasta music, complain about society and act stoned. You upper class washed out hippy wannabe. I can see right through you. Well, not literally, but if i had a mystical X-Ray machine, i could. So, in theory: I can see right through you, KIDDO.

[that was for spite])

Till next time, my obsessive lovers, till next time.

Well then.

Velour. Velour tracksuits. Velour jackets. Velour shoes. Velour curtains. Velour everything. And you know what? I hate Velour. Hate it. I hate Velour more than vinegar hates oil. How much is that you may ask? A lot, have you ever seen either oil or vinegar make an effort to mix with each other and be friends? No, they know they don't like each other, so they live with it, they don't pretend, because if they do, they know they wont fool anyone. They know where they belong, and where they don't. They don't belong together. Neither do I and Velour. It's as simple as can be. Velour the fuel at the pit of my fiery rage. Not saying I have fiery rage. Well... Nevermind. On with the point. Velour is my enemy, for reasons I do not exactly understand myself. Its a complicated pit of horror, one that only the brave dare seek entrance to. The only person brave enough to take on such a feat could only be Kirikou, the brave little African boy, with no clothes, who can run really, really fast. Kirikou, the saucy and bold little hero.

Happy New Year everyone, I hope all 3 of you are enjoying 2010, well, you're reading this, that means you most likely aren't dead, so kudos for that! No major diseases I hope, and if you do have one, then heres a little joke to brighten up the whats left of your most likely terminal disease filled life:

Hey, whats the opposite of 5-6?

768!!!

bahaha.

Its alright if you didn't laugh, neither did I. I promised a joke that i did not think of. I would like to apologize. Well, have a nice life.