>It’s the “bizarre” I find comforting.
Gives me hope that no matter how odd my current situation may be, there will soon be something even more incomprehensible to replace it. Much like the universe.

I quote the late, great Douglas Adams:

“There is a theory which states that if ever for any reason anyone discovers what exactly the Universe is for and why it is here it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable.

There is another that states that this has already happened.”

Douglas Adams is my own personal superhero.

“Ford, you’re turning into a penguin. Stop it.”

Voulez-voulez-vous “I seldom end up where I wanted to go, but almost always end up where I needed to be.” -Douglas Adams

>My dear friend N. and I are going to this as-advertised “off the hook” shindig hosted by and attended by all the kinky little burner freaks we all know and love and held at this warehouse-esque structure formally known as the “Transcendent Church of Bass”.

Preparations are in order.

So far I’ve managed to take a bath. Interrupted twice by the ringing of my phone.

Sigh.

Ignored the first ring…I was in the tub.
It rang again, with the same 206 number, so I thought it might be important.
I answered it.
This resulted in a several-minute-long discussion with some whackjob chick on the phone over the fact that I was not Debbie.
No, I am not Debbie.
No, Debbie is not here.
No, I do not know any Debbies.

Actually, ma’am, now that I think about it, I have her tied up in a burlap sack filled with Scarab Beetles.

I’m sure she, even now, remains skeptical.

Gave a Satsuma to The Bug. The Bug is not a citrus fan. Yet The Bug inhaled 3 Satsumas within a space of ten minutes. Baby crack.

Wish I had some sort of “party prep chamber” which would get me lookin’ like I wanna look like for this shindig without all the work.
I don’t remember who sang the ditty “I enjoy being a girl” but she deserves to be backhanded into her vanity table.

Voulez-voulez-vous is this Debbie?

>Need to sweep the dust off this damn thing.

Notice it’s feast or famine with my blog and I.
Perhaps we should go to couple’s counseling.

Blog: “I just feel like you never pay me any attention anymore. I feel so taken for granted. Oh, sure, you post a cute picture once in a while, but fancy photos are not the basis of a healthy relationship!”

Me: “You know how hard I work. You know how much my job and activities take up my time. Why do I do it? I do it for us! I don’t take you for granted, but you sure don’t appreciate all I do for us!”

Blog: “You insensitive bitch!”

Me: “Now why ya gotta go there? I didn’t insult you. This relationship is going nowhere. When I have time for you, I’ll post more. I care about you…we have three years together…I’m not ready for it to be over. Please, please give me another chance!“

(dabs at eyes with tissue)

Blogs are so high maintenance.

Voulez–voulez–vous insensitive bitch.

>I am not fond of the professor liking my book collection. He is of the opinion that they are hors d’ourves. I, however, am not. I caught him this morning chewing the hell out of Guy de Maupassant. Poor poor Guy (pronounced g(as in girl) eeee. Geeeee).

>
The Dr. likes my book collection.

>
I am in love with my new work space… swoon…

>Concurrently, I need to quit starting projects at 8pm on a Sunday.
But I finished it…
And in a glorious act of shameless self-promotion, I invite you to behold my latest…
(and am also entertaining offers for purchase…please?????)

Click to enlarge.
(That’s NOT a suggestion.)

I used super-shiny black puffy paint for the outlines, so it has this super-cool (NOT Xmas-lights) stained glass effect. And even has purple feathers. I do declare.

Voulez-voulez vous goin’ ta bed now.

>
I have a theory that Smurfette was just Papa Smurf in drag. Interesting to see what feedback I get on this.

Theory aside, it turns out that she was magically created from clay by the Smurfs’ enemy, Gargamel, so that she would use her charms to cause jealousy and competition amongst the Smurfs in order to cause their fall. He left her in the forest and a passing Smurf took her to the Smurf village, where she was kept out of kindness.

Gargamel’s plans didn’t work well at first, as her appearance was flawed. He had designed her in such a way that she might be attractive to a sad and despicable person like himself, but to the Smurfs she looked like just a male Smurf but with long spikey black hair and a dress. She tried to be feminine and considerate, but was unattractive and proved to be more annoying than seductive.

Papa Smurf took pity on her when she became depressed because the other Smurfs teased her about being fat, so he practiced plastic Smurfery on her for several days and nights in order to make her the beautiful and appealing Smurfette the other Smurfs know today. This time, she caused almost every Smurf of the village to fall in love with her.

Alas for them, it did cause violence and jealousy as schemed by Gargamel, causing chaos among the Smurfs who competed, fighting against each other to win Smurfette’s heart. She herself later convinced Poet Smurf to open the water dam just to see the spurting water, but the dam got stuck and the village was flooded. After struggling to close the dam on his own, Papa Smurf showed his frustration towards the trouble-making nature of Smurfette, who, offended, announced that she would “return to the great sorcerer Gargamel’s”. The Smurfs were shocked about this statement, and Smurfette was put on trial.

The Smurfs, blinded by their passion towards her, declared her not guilt, as Jokey Smurf, her attorney in the trial, claimed that Judge Papa Smurf was the one who made her attractive. Brainy Smurf, as the prosecutor, was booed and pelted with tomatoes, just as much because of the audience’s love for Smurfette as their dislike for him. Still, she felt sorry for the trouble she had caused and ran away into the forest.

The Smurfs got their revenge on Gargamel by using the same process that he had used to make the Smurfette, but in this case they built a man-sized, wart-covered, ugly old hag who talked Smurf Language and chased the horrified sorcerer all over the forest.

Smurfette returned occasionally to the village though she found that her presence still aroused (heheh) conflict. When the Smurfs argued about which one should marry her, she herself chose Grouchy Smurf had customarily stated “I hate marriage”, thus making her point that the subject was closed.

The Smurfs then moderated their passion for her, worshipping from a distance, and she settled permanently in the village. She even learned to talk in Smurf language when previously she had talked in straight human speech in accordance with Gargamel’s magic.

Considering that the Smurfs were a Saturday morning cartoon, perhaps introducing the concepts of raginag male hormones, female insecurity, stereotypes, diva-egoes, precursors to eating disorders, plastic surgery and self-esteem issues to the impressionable young minds of 7-year olds (hey…that was me!) is far more damaging than the so-called objectionable content in Sponge Bob.

So rather than indulging in a delayed irritation and pissed-off-edness and what kind of message this bleached out attention whore may have had on the minds of my generation, I prefer to stand by my opinion that she was Papa Smurf in drag.

At least that way I can forgive her bleaching her hair and getting extensions.

Voulez-voulez-vous dontcha wish your Smurfette was hot like me…

>Whaaagh! 32!

>I decided to try painting my own face for Halloween instead of paper mache ones. Face paint doesn’t stay put for shit so I decided to use some of my acrylic inks that I’ve used on my masks. With any luck I won’t end the evening bleeding from the eyes due to some skin-ink related toxicity issues. But what a great costume that would make!

btw…the Spurs have won their first two games of the season. Not a bad way to start, I feel.

Voulez-voulez-vous it’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown…