So, because I miss Ellen, as I've already mentioned:
I like church, and would go if it weren't in the morning.
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Ellen:I keep imagining Betsy in that scene in Monty Python and the Holy Grail where the penitents chant "Deus etc. etc." and then thwap themselves on the forehead with their boards, except the board is a Thinkpad with google news up on it.
Betsy HP: My God! She's got a Webcam!
Ellen: Nope. Only audio.
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Spreading the Yay, One Ho at a Time.
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I walk outside now, and I'm all "Oh brave new world, that has such not-falling-on-my-ass in it."
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The "-ma" thing has gotten to the point that when I was reading something with 'enigma' in it, my first thought was "What's an enig?"
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It wasn't until I went to the Redneck Riviera that I realized that the ocean was something people went into willing for enjoyment instead of for purposes of Presbyterian self-mortification.
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I wonder how long blood fueds would last in societies with a good cable package.
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For some reason, I find this disturbing. I think I'd want marshmellows to retain their air of mystery. I prefer to think of them created through parthenogenesis or found under a cabbage leaf by the StayPuft Man.
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Furthermore, I now have two shiny new lip balms marked "Virgin" and "Slut". My favorite part is the small print which says "Laboratory Test on Sluts/Virgins". I feel like I should get a table next to the PETA woman to protest Testing on Sluts.
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Also, 'Rock, paper, scissors'? Why does paper beat rock? I could beat the shit out of a piece of paper with a rock. Unless it was a very very small rock.
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Weekly Wine and Cheese Party tonight at work. Maybe cute co-worker will cut me off a slab of brie again. sigh If only I remember the Secret Language of Cheese. I remember Gouda = Fidelity. And Smoked Gouda = Smoked Fidelity.
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You know, feed a woman lentil soup, and she'll eat for a day. Teach her to make lentil soup, and she'll have soup forever (as long as you give her a weekly supply of lentils, carrots, etc. and send her a copy of the recipe and then resend it because she's lost it and lend her a pot - probably easier to just give her the soup).
And, of course:
My boss had to call me to get my computer password to retrieve something from my hard drive, which would be fine except my password is 'spikelust'. Had to spell it out, then panicked and explained it was my German grandmother's maiden name (pronounced 'Spickle-oost').