Genetic birth defect my ass. This killing machine is the first success in a series of experiments the underground Ministry for the Militant Mini-Militia of Squirrels is running to create a race of Super Bionic Megatron Squirrel-Soldiers. Did you read the lines? NO FEAR.
Next they'll get two sabers, then spines on their backs like porcupines (or hedgehogs, whichever they can develop first), poisonous back toes like platypus, and finally the ability to spit radioactive ink like radioactive octopi.
Clearly, I should have just stolen my thesis from Jonah. What was I thinking: "Hello, Wally! An Analysis of Mass Media's Ability to Communicate Substantively Within and Through the Film Wall-E"? What does that even mean? No, no, I should have gone with: "WALL-E is good because of the funny parts and the good parts. The end."
Everyone, deep down, wants, for just one day, to star in their very own in-life musical. Don't agree?
Just imagine you're walking down the street and someone just starts singing for you, about you, and then everyone in all the shops and offices and street cars (yes, street cars exist again suddenly!) start singing for/about you and then BAM now you're this amazing singer and dancer and everyone's happy just for you and some hot guy is singing about how he's in love with you (if only you'd notice him!) and people pick you up and toss you and catch you and it's incredible.
I'm not saying I want to be in a musical (though that would be fun, too, you know, if I was talented), I just want to live one for one glorious day (birthday present, hint...?).
I love that Anastasia the Miniature Dachshund looks heroic in the face of great adversity, just like the real fictionalized version of Anastasia. Perhaps I can learn from her. I do feel oddly inspired to purchase a pink-hearted necklace...
Funniest mass-bunny-murder this side of Niagra Falls. Also, why is Alan Arkin a monster?
Admittedly, this is way better than my 5th grade talent show audition, in which I sang this song a capella. I think my version was probably funnier, though, you know... in a sad way.
I'll never watch "Dr. Doolittle" the same way again... Oh, what am I talking about? Two-headed llama push-me-pull-yous and giant pink snails with flying moths? That was insane enough on its own. The ass-kicking and Muppet-fied animals is just a bonus. A big bonus.
I've heard too many stories like this. I'm lucky I have a supportive family, because this could be me in 2 1/2 years if my plan of getting insanely rich by way of a top secret Puppy Brigade (and Circus?) falls through. I hope the Senate doesn't wuss out and keeps this provision in - it saves money, and, more importantly, it saves lives.
Also, looking for moral (and emotional) support, I scrolled down the online comments - WAY too many of them cite this as a reason not to support health care reform. But no worries, I've got a plan.
1) Start working for an insurance company, get way up there, like, Super CEO status 2) Find these people and punch them in the face repeatedly. I'm talking uber-bloody, turning their noses into face-powder. 3) Refuse to give them coverage, citing the "pre-existing condition" of an ass-kicking by yours truly 4) Refuse to let them into an ER, citing the "waste of money the uninsured are spending in our precious Emergency Rooms." Suck on that, fist-in-face misinformed!
While this article may sound interesting or "cool" to you, it's really just a revelation into the horrifying world of little 7-year-old Artful Stew, who loved the tiny, green lizards in her backyard. Loved them so much that she wanted to catch them, but all she caught was the tail, the horrifying, gyrating, flip-flopping tail.
When you're 7 years old, the last thing you want to do is rip off an animal's body part.
The last thing you want to happen if THAT happens is for said appendage to KEEP MOVING.
I refused to go into the backyard for weeks afterwards. And I still shiver when I think about it, twisting and turning...
It started off simply enough, I was Trudy from Mad Med and Pete the d-bag had made us buy these new contacts. So, since they were stolen from the eyes of Colombians, the Colombians came and kidnapped us from our house (Dallas house, not Mad Men NYC house) and started a war on eyes with the U.S. We escaped with our eyes, just barely, but by then I was me again, and I had met up with some U.S. rebels and we were fleeing towards who knew where. We may have been off to my old high school as refuge, but I'm not sure.
Anyway, the enemy had set off some wicked shrapnel bombs. I don't even know if these things exist, but they're bombs that, when they land, just shoot off shrapnel everywhere, and there were thousands of these things going off in the area. We tried to dodge as much as we could, but after walking for about a mile or so after the first wave, I realized I had a horrible pain in my shoulder. That's when everyone saw that I had flimsy, burning tin-foil plastered to my shoulder. At that point, they peeled it off, which felt more pleasant, but a lot wetter and sun-burny, than a Band-Aid.
While we were trying to find an appropriate bandage (I am immunosuppressed after all, can't have a giant open wound!), we were ambushed first by bees, then by the enemy, and then by British soldiers sent to help. We went with them, and then I woke up.
And by "heat" I mean "job search" and by "on" I mean "active." But "The job search is active" did not sound nearly as catchy. Maybe "Job Search: Activated" in a robot-voice would have done better. Yes, definitely better.
Also, after stealing this idea from a friend, you're probably all going to get a wonderfully annoying Facebook invite to my blog's group in the near future. Because, yes, however many months after creating this blog, I just now realized that's a great way to get people to actually read it.
This next poll is getting more than 11 votes if I have to kill someone and use his dead fingers to check the box!
The other day on "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me" the NPR comedy news quiz, they replaced Carl Kasell with Korva Coleman, a person, by name at least, appears to be the exact mirror image of CK... KC. Same alliteration, reverse lettering. Interesting.
Also, I just noticed that lead and deal are almost reverses of each other, as well. Of course, they're not full reversals, because the ea sound works and ae does not, but still. I'm keeping it. Now, who wants to come up with a government conspiracy surrounding this fact? Because, really, lead(ers) do make deals, somtimes... dirty, downright despicable deals.
Also, there's no way Cervarix is going to do any better than Gardasil unless it's free. No self-respecting person is going to ask their doctor, "Hey, can I get the HPV vaccine? You know, the cervarix one?" Because they know they'd slip and say cervix, and once it's been said, you can't take that back.
To celebrate the glorious occasion of having the same number along all the dates when putting dates this way (Wednesday, September, 9, 2009 makes it seem much less monumental), I've declared it New Poll Day!
Please enjoy my poll of nonsensical wordplay, just a sniff of what's to come at my Sketch 301 graduation show this weekend at the UCB. 5:30 PM for anyone who'd like to come!
In a vent possibly unrelated to the vent in my room (as I am currently in my living room) has been blasting 80s-'00s pop music for the past 3 hours. I don't know what he/she is up to (random dance party? Hardcore workout? Very peppy writing?), but it's making my job search much more pleasant.