A Ceramic Fish Joint

Wes and I are watching FoodTV. And we were talking about who we'd fuck (a game we like to play every ten minutes or so – when we're not offering to make one another sad with sexual favors.) Anyways…I think I *may* have gone over the line again with saying “Meh, I'd eat Paula Dean's cunny.” Heh.

He deserved it, though! He referred to my broccoli as being the texture of cream of DBA panties earlier (they kinda were.) That was mean. So I threw broccoli at him, which he blocked with his laptop. There are splotches of cream of DBA panties broccoli on his laptop now. Heh! Anyone working with us, please feel free to look at it tomorrow as I'm sure it'll still be there.

In cataloguing my books tonight, I realized that I had duplicate copies of Homer's Illiad. Now, first, let me say that yes…I was cataloguing my books. Because I am just that damn cool. And it was hella fun. If anyone else should want to do it, I was using LibraryThing. It shows you pictures! And you can make a virtual bookshelf! And tag books! And…yeah! (And should anyone want to see my progress thus far, lookie here.)

Ahem. Anyway, so yeah. I noticed that I have in my possession two different, old paperback editions of the Illiad. Now, I'll often buy duplicates of books. It's no big thing. I like having different editions of books. I think between here and West Virginia I have up to five copies of Mrs. Dalloway. I have multiple copies of Frankenstein, The Great Gatsby, 1984, etc. And and one time, I believe I had seven editions (with different chapters, based on when it was released) of A Clockwork Orange. Some included the extra Nadsat dictionary, too. The thing is, I usually know that I have duplicates. This time…I didn't. And I know that I've had those books since I was in Huntington – which would make them 4 years in my possession. Just damn weird to not notice something like that. How many moves…how many times do you have to box your books up before you pick up on stuff?

As an aside, it's especially freaky to find out that Wes and I have a lot of the same weird editions of books. All of them are ones that we've picked up in secondhand stores and stuff, but managed to have the same damn copy. It's like we're operating from a single hive mind…

So, after a week of wearing Holy Water, I think I've come to a really sad and mostly funny conclusion. I'm fucking allergic to it! Every time I wear it, I break out into hives. Now, I can totally see the humor in this…I joked when I got it about how it burned us….but yeah. Hives. Hives from Holy Water.

Clearly, I am the coolest person yet again.

What happens when a Mommy Livedoll and a Daddy Real Person fall in love and make babies?

Turns out I didn't need all the alarms. The insane paranoia kept me from mostly sleeping at all! I am so happy right now.

Bah. So, apparently asleeping Heidi is plotting against me. Seriously. You see, I have a dual alarm clock thingy. And set both of them…for because I need a failsafe. Now, I work at 10. I leave around 9:15ish, and usually officially start to wake up around 8:45. So, yesterday I woke up early (like I normally do, since I apparently don't know how to sleep right) and went back to sleep since it was only 7. And I'm not all about embracing the morning. Well, I remember turning off my first alarm. The second alarm? I apparently hit snooze until I realized what I was doing around 9:15. So, hello rushing around!

Now let's go to today. Again, I woke up around 7ish or so. Since it was too early, I went back to sleep. I have no freaking recollection of either alarm going off. When I woke up again at 10:45, the alarms were set.

Sigh. I hate it when I'm all out to get myself. Tonight, I'm totally setting my phone alarm too. If I even have to dig out my old phone for additional wake-up technology, I'm just going to give up on myself.

Thanks to Wild Oats and Demeter, I can now smell like…..

HOLY WATER!

Sure, it kinda burns us a little when I spray it on, but it's okay. It's like a little exorcism in a bottle! The name even has a purple background, just like the ever-important purple sash that the priests have! I tried to spray some on evil Kitten (she has a little Devil's Kiss on her forehead, no lie) but for some reason the bottle wouldn't spray at all when it was pointed in her direction…

I think before I make the trek to creepy West Virginia to visit my parents in a couple weeks, I might just pick up a bottle of Funeral Home for my mom. You know, to help her along. Now, stop it. She really is close to death I'm sure, just needs that final push. If nothing else, it will piss her off, and make the weekend even more fun!

Peep couture?

Wesley is missing. Well, ok. He is most likely in his bedroom, as his car is outside…his keys, wallet, etc are in the Wesley-basket, and his bedroom door is closed. But! I haven't heard him in HOURS! Like, I came out of my room at…uhm. 3? Ish? Shut up. I went to bed at 8am. Anyways, he wasn't here. And wasn't here. Only his laptop was to be found. And I've never seen him…even for coke drinking. Mind you, I've left home a few times…but still! Wesley is surely dead!

Plus! Kitten is gone! Ok. She's probably in the bedroom with him. But what if she's thirsty, or wants to make a water-trap? Or has to piddle? Or wants to get something? Poor, poor Kitten. I am sad for her. Plus I miss her a little. She's been sorta sweet lately. And she smells pretty, but I don't know why. Most likely that part is totally a trap. “Smell my pretty fur, Mommy. Wait! I'll tear your face off! Hah! It was a trick all along!” Yeah, that tricksy Kitten.

In other news, I ordered a chunky. bacon. shirt today. I am so cool. Well, whytheluckystiff is so cool, but I can be cool by proxy.

Attack of the ginormous bunny!