Oh, Rio, what a cockbite fuckwad. You are SO NOT DESERVING of being slagged. Not that I'm basing my fierce loyalty to you on any rational basis such as having met you three-dimensionally, but Hec has, and he gave me a very thorough and warm and loving report, and I thoroughly trust his judgment.

So, to sum up, Rio-slagger=COCKBITE.

I just hope I meet the asshole who wrote it by accident in a bar or something sometime.

So do I. And then I hope you raise your be-blinged left hand and carve the asshole's face to ribbons with the Saget Rock of Love.

Also, the Zmayhem taxes are filed. TurboTax was not fussed at all about CA deadlines or anything, just placidly took all my info and told me what extra forms we'd need to print and mail in after the fact just to cover our asses. So, more or less finished, if you ignore the dangling threads and blank spots and... oh, hell. I'm guessing about a week, maybe two, before the audit hits.

So, to sum up, Rio-slagger=COCKBITE.

I love JZ. She's so warm and sweet and pretty, and has this wonderful deep streak of barely hidden vitriol and spite.

I love that in a gal!

Oh, what the hell.

makes out with Erin

Now that's the spite I'm talking about!

(My Couch of Sin Strikes Again!)

Lalalalala, awake.

First, I do not understand dirty wash jeans, unless, is there environmental gains to not bleaching the thread first? But then, why not just not dye it blue, and wear hemp-colored jeans? I would wear hemp-colored jeans. If they were black.

And also, if I'm going to wear jeans that look unwashed, the odds are that I'm going to just skip straight over the "look" bit and not wash them. Because that seems easier.

Second, in the seventies I wore corduroys. I also carried a bear named Corduroy. We both had pockets. I also apparently wore a pair of wide red pants with a matching red vest which I thought quite smashing, based on the smirking, hand-in-pocket, oh-so-cool five-year-old photo.

In the eighties I wore colors. All three of them. Sometimes, together. And I did the spiral perm thing in seventh grade when I was undergoing my great Image Remaking. I was glamorous and wore purple eyeshadow, and totally got over it in a year. Then I discovered death metal.

Henceforth, and therefore through half the eighties and all of the nineties, I wore black. I apologize, northwest pacificistas, but I lurved grunge. I am anxiously awaiting the first wave of grunge nostalgia so I can get out my ridiculously practical grunge clothes.

Oh! I also watched Numbers. However, I did not notice the y on the horizontal axis. Man, I really enjoy the family relationships on this show. The three actors have great chemistry and of course have chops, and I just like the way they're written. I buy their backstory as it comes, because they feel like they have depth.

I really liked last week's ep.

I'll admit the Anubis Dress does look more likely to lead to a hilariously bad original movie on the Sci Fi Network, but I still think wearing a honda gas tank with matching handlebars and rearview mirrors takes the cake for surrealism in fashion (oh, if only Google would give me love with a pic of what I'm talking about).

In other news, white asparagus sauteed in garlic butter is of the yum, and goes well with fried rice from Shogun. If I could have just slept for another 5 hours it would have made for a really good night.

And it's not libelous, just really fucking mean and unfair.

Maybe reply with a Dorothy Parker-style comment that seems innocuous on the surface but is dripping with witty contempt, for those smart enough to get it?

Good morgnung. Glad to know that my Idiot Brother is not the only one who was still working on his taxes at 5pm yesterday. Still working, you say? When I did all his federal for him (including the math) on Easter Sunday morning?

Why, yes. He couldn't figure out the Mass state forms, so he went with Turbo Tax anyway (making this decision yesterday), re-did everything I'd done, got a different result from the computer, and called me up in a tizzy at work at 5pm.

There are only so many times I can say, "If you live in Mass, you will fill out supplementary schedules. It is not a big deal."

Such naked instances of hand-holding requests I have not seen from my brother in, like, ever. He promised to pay me for completing all his taxes (including the state ones) next year.

Happy Birthday, NoiseDesign!

Nutty, he should just go to H&R Block. They're not that expensive. They take you last minute, and save wear and tear on the siblings.

Happy Birthday NoiseDesign

May you live as long as you want, and never want as long as you live.