Special Sauce

A mish-mash of twisted thoughts from a fevered ego. Updated when the spirit moves me, contents vary and may have settled during shipping. Do not open towards eyes. Caution: Ingestion of Special Sauce may cause hair loss, halitosis, and a burning sensation while urinating.

3.01.2005

Fun stuff

First up-

Dear Boss,

Stop being nice for no reason, it really fucks with my head. At least when you're being an asshat, I have a reason to hate you.

Sincerely,

Sauce

Next. I don't care if you like Television Without Pity or The Real World or not. You will go, and you will read this, and you will laugh your ass off, for it is not every day we have Buffalo Bill recapping anything.

Then, you should go to Ill Will Press and go through the archives, and giggle at Foamy the Squirrel, who is my newest, most shiniest hero. I want to be Foamy when I grow up.

(Ok, and when I drive? I AM Foamy the Squirrel. I am grey, and fur-covered, and channeling Dennis Leary.)

And if you need something to listen to after that, may I humbly suggest Egg Radio? They have yet to play a song I hated, and quite a few that I squealed "AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! I HAVEN'T HEARD THIS IN FOREVER!" at. (Although Tom's Diner did get an eyeroll.)

You should also go over to see my friend Stephee's site, and wish her a happy birthday, and scroll down and gaze upon her 25th birthday pictures from a veddy long time ago... I can't believe my ancient homepage is still up, and had those photos on it.

Stephee and I used to train for Borders together, she in Delaware, and me, not. I met her at a Traning conference, where we were roommates. The first of many adventures we had. And let me just tell you, that you have not feckin' LIVED until you hear stephee read the book "If you give a pig a pancake" like Eric Cartman. Seriously. Somehow, along the line, I got the moniker of Stephee Lite (honestly, I can't remember why), heh. Steph rocks, and she's turning 30. Go, make her smile.

Also: I hate Wendy's toe-up sock pattern, and I am pissed. Actually, I hate the fact that I knit "wrong" and I can't get the damn pattern to work out. And all I want is a simply written explanation for a toe-up sock, with a figure 8 cast on, designed with a short row heel, specifically written for combination knitters who happen to have really wide feet and ankles like tree trunks. Is that so much to ask? Gosh!

On that note. I am going home now.

4 Comments:

Blogger Memphis Word Nerd said...

Milk in nose? Hurts. Milk and cookie crumbs in nose? Hurts much, much more. Thanks for the Cartman-induced laugh, though.

5:26 PM  
Blogger Special Sauce said...

HEE!

If You Give a Word Nerd a Cookie?

I smell a sequel coming on. Maybe we can get Stephee to read that like Cartman too? Hee!

5:30 PM  
Blogger Memphis Word Nerd said...

Uhhh...hellooooooooooo! Where were you today, missy? I don't approve of this AT ALL.

9:15 PM  
Blogger Pope Lizbet said...

I. Want. To. Hear. That.

Like, the kind of want that HURTS. CDHSarah and I are watching the Bill Hicks DVD (after a trip to Radio Shack because half the DVDs won't play without a universal remote, and guess who scored one for $3.99?), and I just read the first line in the Cartman voice and we both about sprayed Taco Bell nacho crumbs all over the room.

I'll pay. Please?

As you can see I'm back online, so watch for the update post coming through tonight. Lovies!

Oh, and be aware...I'm going to give you my Get People To Drive You Anywhere chicken-fried steak recipe in that post, since I don't eat meatloaf. (E-mail me -- we need to talk about Hightower.)

9:16 PM  

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home