As you may or may not already be aware, I can fit a lot of things in my mouth – cat heads, most of my fist, two peeled clementines. But did you know I could balance a chandelier on my tongue?
Seeing as how that chandelier is in the lobby of Studio 54, I should probably run off to see my doctor and start a serious regimen of antibiotics. Speaking of contagious things that spread farther than LiLo’s crotch, I can’t resist doing a silly meme today. Also it turns out being a possibility is a little more time intensive and draining than I originally thought. So really a meme is all I have the time and energy for today. Well…that and licking chandeliers.
I’m blatantly ripping off the very spiritually depraved and profoundly witty Debra over at She Who Seeks with this post. That’s cool though because she blatantly ripped off some other blogger who probably ripped off some other blogger and really can’t we just STOP THE VIOLENCE?
Also I’m changing it a little because I’m a control freak and that’s how I roll.
Anylazy, this is a composite of the first paragraph of the first post of every month this year. If you cross your eyes, it kinda even makes sense…like bean sprouts on sandwiches. Just in case you’re a masochist and want to read more (or it’s a really slow day at the office and you too need a day off from being a possibility), I’ve included a link to the full post after each paragraph.
The brain. Dear God the brain. I think it’s leaking. (link)
I’m back in the ‘boken after traveling well over a thousand miles in under eighty hours. I’m crunchy. I’m stinky. And I’m still haunted by the fruity/chemical taste of the endless Bojangles and Diet Mountain Dew fueled burps that my brother consistently managed to blow into my open mouth every time I turned to yell at him. (link)
An embarrassingly long time ago, I started a little something I called my Portrait Project. I had all these grandiose plans of blazing through a portrait a week, solving world hunger, and somehow sculpting my arms into perfect replicas of Michelle Obama’s guns. Four months later, I’m way behind on all those plans. Instead, I’ve managed to finish merely four additional portraits and solve only my hunger issues…primarily with baked goods. (link)
Bad news. I’ve been racking my brain for days (ok really only the past 30 minutes or so when I realized what today is) for some witty and creative April Fool’s prank for today’s post. I’ve got nothing. I am devoid of funny. I can’t decide if I should blame chemo brain, allergies, or Rod Stewart. (link)
It’s kind of been a crazy couple of days. A lot has happened since my last ramble. I’ll try and hit the highlights…in order, of course. (link)
“Shuttlecock” is probably my most favorite word ever. It’s that or “Omaha.” Then again, I really like “Texture,” too. It’s possible I just like words. And excuses to say shuttlecock. (link)
I’m quitting. Again. (link)
Maryland is a strange place, Interwebz. (link)
Good news, I was totally too lazy to learn a new uke song this week. It’s for the best, Interwebz. Herbert hates all this humidity and acts out by not staying in tune. He’s such a little blue fucker sometimes, kinda like that Hefty Smurf. (link)
Halloween in Manhattan is always confusing and frightening for me. I mean, you never really know who’s in costume, right? How can you tell the real Naked Cowboy from Halloween Naked Cowboy? Is that your normal everyday wall street broker dressed up as a Lindsay Lohan or is that a real tranny hooker? Oh hey, look over there! Is that a real cop? More importantly, is that a real gun? (link)
Hells to the yeah, Interwebz! Just in case you didn’t hear already, my scans were cleaner than Lindsay Lohan’s crotch. Which…makes it sound like they were filthy so that might not seem like the best analogy. But let’s face it, I’m really not THAT clean myself. Still, I’m pretty confident Lindsay’s crotch is cancer-free. So I’m going to stand by that analogy. And Lindsay’s crotch. (link)