(Schwarzenegger's) most recent misstatement came this month as he announced a budget agreement with higher-education officials, a deal he said was great because it had no out-year costs. Based on current funding, the costs would be at least $140 million a year starting in 2005-06. "English is his second language," said Mike Murphy, his chief campaign strategist.
It's our anniversary today, and in celebration I am going to try my hand at making marillen knoedel. This was the one bit of traditional Viennese grandma-cookery that we weren't able to indulge in, on our trip, as apricots were not yet in season.
I'm not exactly sure what a 1/2 luggage amounts to, in American terms. Wish me luck.
Big bottom, big bottom
Talk about mud flaps, this ant's got 'em
Big bottom drive me out of my mind
How could I fry this behind?
There are many reasons to love Casey.
That thing he does with his butt is just one of them.
28 flyers and a few phone calls later, Ash is home.
Ash slithered out last night, right through the barely-open kitchen window when we weren't paying attention. That'll show us. What were we thinking, not paying attention to His Slinkiness?
I'm still suffering from vertigo.
It's almost fun, sometimes. OK, only when when riding as a passenger in a car, and then only when it's moving (coming to a stop sucks, a lot). Tilting my head down brings on the strangest sensation, like the world is suddenly spinning backwards and I might slip off it I don't hold on tight. And of course I have an interview at a temp agency, tomorrow morning. How am I going to type 80wpm, and bitchslap Excel, and show a mastery of PowerPoint and Access while holding on tight to this whimsically tilting planet?
Chemistry of the Dirty South 101
This is how you sip some drank...
Add your jolly rancher and alcohol and get throwed!
get folded! get u slurred and blurred!
If you gots a Snoopy Sno Cone, that make it jess right.
via the fabulous #1 hit song
Perhaps you have heard about Dutch or German toilets, and how very distressing they can be.
Austrian toilets, it turns out, are so bewildering that sometimes people just pitch them out into the trash.
More photos from Vienna are up here. London and Newcastle photos coming soon.
"You don't own me, masturbation!"
I'm going to do my best to post regularly on here...
sharing instances where I beat the Devil.
"Beat the Devil." That's a good one. Thanks, tmftml
I seem to have picked up a nifty, and pretty much incapacitating, case of vertigo.
At least the silverware isn't jumping off the table. That would be really annoying.
There are 5 whole pages of hits for the Google Search: vugina.
#1 on the list: my chastising of those who go looking for it.
I was so excited to see the ping, telling me that one of my very favorite writers had updated his weblog, and raced right over to read it. The entry was a little confusing, at first: Rick doesn't usually use quotes. And then there's Skits interjecting something. And... hm. After the third read-through, it hit me. Oh. No. Oh no.
Rick Bedford passed away, yesterday afternoon. I'm going through that "I just talked to him before we left, and oh geez I really meant to drop him a line the other day," brand of shock. I hope he got the postcard from London, or that it brings a smile to his brother's face someday, when he can smile again.
Today we went to the Humane Society to pick up our new bundle of furry, sharp-clawed joy.
We went around to the local shelters, yesterday, to just sort of see who was out there, and if maybe there were any kittens that needed adopting, but it turns out kitten season doesn't start for two weeks. That seemed fine, we really didn't need to drag anyone home with us right away... but then I fell in love-at-first-neck-grab-and-nose-lick with this guy. His name, at the cat house, was Mozart, but that seems like an awkward sort of thing to call a kitty so we brainstormed and came up with a list of "names that rhyme with Mozart" and settled on Ash.* It turns out there's a 24-hour waiting period to purchase a cat, which is more than what most states require for purchasing a firearm. We brought him home at twelve o'clock, under strict admonition to keep him in "a closet, bathroom, or other small enclosed space" for the first few days, as he's been caged for six whole months (!) and might panic at the idea of open space. By one o'clock, he'd taken over half the house. By three he'd figured out how to unlock the windows (but hasn't yet developed the strength to lift them). An hour later, he had unbuckled his collar and tossed it on the kitchen floor. It's a good thing he has us trained to play on command, to keep him occupied until his FLV and microchipping appointment.
"And remember, candy is the seduction item of choice for perverts."
(peers furtively around room)
(gaze lands on almost-empty box of Viennese chocolates)
(Bush) just has no trouble at all touching black people!
Hammering with them, bagging groceries, tottering alongside them on weirdly high stools. Why, the Compassion page even includes a photo of him standing next to his own secretary of State, Colin Powell!
The diminution doesn't stop there, though. Check out the "W. Stands for Women!" section:
President Bush is committed to making sure that women... around the world have the same opportunities that we enjoy here...
even where they previously made their own reproductive choices, and in spite of his not having been elected there, either.
"It was pretty disgusting, not what you'd expect from Americans..."
What? What on earth were they expecting?
spooky monkey! do not buy!SlutCat just caught a bird. I think.
It may have been a mouse.
I was on the front porch, using my cell phone (which gets less than no reception inside the house), and heard this "shriek! shriek! shriek! shriek!" and then saw him toodle past, with a small grey lump in his mouth, headed for home. Toodle, toodle, toodle, right past our house.
So. He understands that he is merely a guest here.
Or just, as it were, a slut. He showed up every night, when we were gone, and made out with the housesitters. "Hello, Kimberly. Hello, Lejf. You were warned that this would happen, right? Great. Now sit down and make me a lap." Yep, total slut. But that's ok: he comes over three times a day to groom my hair, knead my shoulders, and purr in my ear, and has some left over for his actual own family.
Having a SlutCat is a bonus in so many ways: we can let another, more needy and possibly more deserving cat move in when we're ready (oh, dear. the Humane Society has a website), and he brings wriggling, parasite-ridden presents down the street to his actual mommy.
We're home, but too wiped out to do anything but shower, regain our landlegs, and wait for the guestcat to show up to pose for The Infinite Cat Project.