I will be attacked mercilessly for this, but danger excites me

Sunday last, a friend invited me to accompany her family on an excursion to Six Flags, the Theme Park. It's not polite to turn down these generous offers and besides, I figgered I'd soak in the atmosphere and just hang out with friends.

Here's the catch: I have an aversion to rollercoasters.

Now, I know it's fashionable and cute to be a pocket rocket kinda gal, giddily staggering from one ride to the next, exclaiming how "awesome" each train tracked it's course. But I find my fuse can light just smashingly without strapping myself to a gaudily painted machine and ricocheting myself at whiplash inducing speeds for all of 15 seconds.

My theory is that adrenaline is provisional.
You get an allotted amount to work with and it's up to your judgement as to what you do with it. For example, I'm cleverest when I'm marathoning mine and drinking...erm, thinking. Yes.
All sorts of unthought-of thoughts get thunk at times like these.
Conversely though, you notice when one gets off a rollercoaster they're not spouting Chaucer.
It's more of a frantic, "Ooh! Waah! Man, that so totally like rocked! I'm gonna do it again and this time I'm gonna puke when I'm, like, upside down!!"
"Alright, duuude! As soon as my testes crawl back down my stomach and I regain the use of my heartbeat."

I understand the excitement of the moment. I understand the incredible rush of going 0-70 in 3 seconds. I'm all for extreme sports. But sorry, you fairground junkies, it's a tame way of saying -- I'd like to be hard core but I'm only dangerous in a controlled environment.

Let me tell you folks, these types of people are Bad in Bed.
HA! Take that!!

They've got nothing in reserve, it's all out-front and what you see is what you get. I'll take the snowboarder any day, or better yet, the montanista. Those guys know what it means to live on the edge and, Lordamercy, they hold nothing back.

So when you step off those death traps, gray brain matter oozing out your ears, don't expect me to overcompensate for your lacks.
I'll be KICKING MAD TAIL in Scooby-Doo's Haunted House.


Mother Nature's fury.

Praying for you guys.



Calvin): People think it must be fun to be a super genius, but they don't realize how hard it is to put up with all the idiots in the world.
(Hobbes): Isn't your pants' zipper supposed to be in the front?
- Calvin and Hobbes


I done a bad thing..

One day I'll want to win this righteous award: The Bad Sex in Fiction Award

A tasty snippet from 2001's winner:
"Her hand is moving away from my knee and heading north. Heading unnervingly and with a steely will towards the pole ... Ever northward moves her hand, while she smiles languorously at my right ear. And when she reaches the north pole, I think in wonder and terror -- she will surely want to pitch her tent."

And the one that just delighted me:

"Liz squeaked like wet rubber.."

Who told him?

the determined

Spending a month in Texas, and not a lot to do on my agenda, I've taken to a hardcore exercise regimen.

I'd started off with jogging but no sooner had I conquered a mile than a vicious detractor reveals the, I'm-sure-completely-fictious fact that doing so on pavement will make your innards (specifically your womb) drop out and trail along the asphalt.
Not being particularly safety-conscious, superstitious, or fixin' to bear children this year or the next, I continue my hazardous jogging. Although I'm beginning to fancy I can feel something slinging around inside.
I'm hoping it's just a stray spleen.

Next, weight-lifting. This is my favorite part because I get to stand in front of a full length mirror with pieces of sweaty metal in my fists and grunt satisfactorily while watching the wiry tendons in my shoulders ripple much like those of a young jungle boys'.
Okay, so reality might look more along the lines of a young, straining, albino bandicoot named Pinky -- but it's just not the mental picture I'm trying to give here.

Besides, given a month, there's no telling what I'm capable of.

The future is plump with promise.


I may get nervous.

I realize I'm sharing a roof with 3 other bloggers. I think it's wierd but hey,
I won't have to describe events anymore.

I'm been drifiting in the doldrums. Mentally, I've been sparking up the most stimulating and thought provoking ruminations, but it's in a very introverted phase for now. I get the feeling that it's for my own personal enhancement, not ready to come out yet and delight the world.

Then I've been working on my design in my free hours when all the house is asleep and not a mouse stirs. A design so beautiful and intellectually stunning it WILL knock your socks off and hopefully your pants and underclothes as well.

That said,

Hie you hence.


getting a new face

Gonna be redesigning this ding-dang place.

It's high time and now that I've got my super-one-world-power of a computer up and running we'll see if we can't make this have a little more character.


diary of a cat

DAY 752
My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced to eat dry cereal. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the mild satisfaction I get from ruining the occasional piece of furniture. Tomorrow I may eat another houseplant.

DAY 761
Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while they were walking almost succeeded. I must try this at the top of the stairs. In an attempt to disgust and repel these vile oppressors, I once again induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair... must try this on their bed.

DAY 765
Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body, in an attempt to make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear into their hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a good little cat I was. Hmmm... Not working according to plan.

DAY 768
I am finally aware of how sadistic they are. For no good reason I was chosen for the water torture. This time however, it included a burning foamy chemical called "shampoo." What sick minds could invent such a liquid? My only consolation is the piece of thumb still stuck between my teeth.

DAY 770
There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices. I was placed in solitary throughout the event. However, I could hear the noise and smell the foul odor of the glass tubes they call "beer." More importantly, I overheard that my confinement was due to my power of "allergies." Must learn what this is and how to use it to my advantage.

DAY 773
I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and maybe snitches. The dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return. He is obviously a half-wit. The bird, on the other hand, has got to be an informant and speaks with them regularly. I am certain he reports my every move. Due to his current placement in the metal room, his safety is assured. But I can wait, it is only a matter of time...


So you're 16 huh?
I've been thinking hard today of how to sum up the 15 years I've known you into a block of words. Gosh durn it....(smacking mah gums together)I 'member when gas was eighteh-nahn cents a....nevermind.

As usual, whenever you pop into my head, my hand unconsciously wanders to that delicate white scar over my top lip and I can't help but smirk at all that it stands for:
You probably remember better than I The Argument.
No doubt, something inconsequencial yet of the utmost significance.
What clever kids we were/are/always will be. Muahaha.
Forever plotting; grandeur-filled plans of world domination through cloned Guinea Pig Revolts, reveling in our dry humor and shared interest in knowledge and adventure.

Come to think of it, it was probably dictatorial differences that started our conclusive battle.

You, the oldest boy - Me the oldest girl. There was bound to be a power struggle, though I remember when you were born there's wasn't a happier 7 year old on the block. You looked like a tiny, shrively, hair-covered mancoot. HEh, come to think of it...nothin's changed!

And then there was that card I gave you one birthday:

When I think of all our fun times together, I smile.
When I think of all the jokes we shared, I giggle.
When I think of all the pranks we played, I chuckle to myself.
When I think of all the times I blamed you for something I did, and got away with it...I laugh hilariously.

HAHA! That was the best! I think we decided today it was also the cause of our anger. That's also most likely why I threw a shoe at your head and you grabbed the nearest object, and hit me in the lip with a teaspoon. It swelled to the size of a golf ball and somewhere in between we forgave each other. And grew up.
Although I bet you still scheme to catch me saying something incriminating on a hidden tape-recorder. Too bad I'm still smarter than you. Muahahaha...again. (even though you've beat me a whole head in height -- cheater) and I'm still gonna hide all the cutlery.

Anyways, just saying, since I HAVE to be stuck with a younger brother, I'm sure glad I got stuck with you. I love you bruda.

To the atlas, son. Our Guinea Pig Army awaits!


Oh ferocious one,

My bestest bub, R.S. Maddock (aka, Scallywag) is writing a book! Yes indeedy!!

With her dry humor (essential for an expeditionist) and insightful wit, 'THE TRAVELLER’S GUIDE TO…PLANET EARTH', will surely become a nationwide bestseller and a must-have for every young wanderer (ie. yours truly)
Just check out this tasty snippet:
"*Now there are two ways to deal with the few weeks before flying day and they depend completely on two different factors; the first is that you have purchased the ticket alone and the second is that you have purchased it with/for/together/whatever a friend/companion/relative/someone you love/someone you hate/whoever.

Option #1: You’ve purchased the ticket alone and you, therefore, have yourself to depend on to entertain, exaggerate every aspect of the trip to come, obsess like an ass and talk other friend’s ears off about the entire trip—all this leading up to the day of departure. While these things may seem a little annoying, not least of all to the people around you, you will find it important and even necessary as time goes by--and the clock inevitably slows down--to continue life in this manner.

First things first: Obsessing! Go online and don’t just look at your ticket again, print it up in four different formats with duplicates (to give to friends who hate you now, of course). Once copies have been printed, buy a binder and put the pages in there so that you can flip through and in five different ways know what your flight numbers are, the names and histories of your airport and the airports you will be stopping at, plus (and this is just for fun now) the entire layout of the plane with your seat highlighted! Yes, you can get a printout of the plane’s layout. Not only does this obsessiveness help the time pass as you wait for D-day, but it also gives you some potentially useful information (see chapter __ re sitting next to someone you hate on a long flight). Don’t stop at the flight information or plane layout and blue prints, though. Just run wild with this. Get the goods on your flight crew and captain, send them all a little “in advance thank you” note, and while you’re at it, why not get a map of the airports you will be stopping at too. What the heck, toss in a map from your house to the airport, regardless of how easy it is to get there or the fact that you’ve been there a hundred times and you could hop there on one foot with your eyes closed through Friday afternoon traffic."

I'm already chuckling in antcipation...


the funny thing

about secrets; they're so beautifully vulnerable but we sometimes forget it's our responsibility to hold them safe for those we love. Or to have the wisdom to place them in bigger hands than our own..


I'm sorry this isn't a gripping and poignant

but see, neither am I 27% of the time and Fritos are the best.


i'm flattered to the point of exhaustion

I'm not sure yet, but I think I've just been called hot by LoxyFady.
Not to toot my own horn but that lady's got foxy tastes, haha.

I'm nervous though, how I might be misleading the world?

Must. Fix. Projected. Image.


I feel like I'm just offering up dry snippets of information.

Today I ate a boiled egg for breakfast.
Then I washed it down with coffee.
I stared in space for 30 seconds and solved the world's dwindling forest problems.
Brushed my teeth for 2.57 minutes.
Noticed I hadn't put on new makeup for 2 days. (my ego's not too high right now)
Farted around for 15 minutes.
Fed my spirit.

Yes I know, it frustrated even me. I'll just update you then and get back to my old routine of quality-yet-tinted-with-antcipated-sexuality blogging that you've come to know and love. (one of these days I'll do a post all about sex....HAHA! see?)

My adventurous month long road trip is now finished.

Here I have painstakingly tracked my journey for you. Red being forward movement, blue being backwards.
And it's never been truer said that thanks to the Interstate Highway System, it is now possible to travel from coast to coast without seeing anything.

I was the sole driver and having uncharted so many miles of charted seas/roads I can say in all honesty, I started seeing the most unbelievable things morph before my eyes (ie. palm trees turning into giant sky elephants, road signs into wildly gesiculating humans and clouds into apocryphal prophecies)

The highlight of my trip would have to be sneaking off to Miami for a whole night and half a day to escape my unrelated relatives and see my friends some of whom I hadn't seen for maybe 2 years..give or take.
Made my heart feel all warm and fuzzy hanging out with those guys.
And I love you.

Though in truth, I felt had, driving along that Timiami Trail that boasted of "Panther Crossings" and "Careful. Slow Indians Playing".
I saw neither.
Just crows pecking at busted tires (which I, at first excitement, wanted to believe were basking crocodiles)

Ah yes! I ran out of gas on the way back but I'm too embarassed to expound on that one. Riding a horse to the gas station with a jerry can in hand. The mental picture tickles me in all the right places.

We broke down in Pensacola and were nearly stranded but thanks to a bit of string, some dirty hands, pliers and spittle we were back on the road. (Fine! Fine! we shelled over mass amounts of cash. I cry thievery!)

Houston welcomed us at 2 AM and I wallowed in the muggy atmosphere and love making with the 2nd and 3rd "World's Sexiest People": soon to be Mrs. Smooth Jazz and soon to be Mr. Rycole. I assume.

And that would be the long and short of it. Mostly short.
Travel is only glamorous in retrospect and in the telling of it.

An Open Letter,

Dear Mr. Blah:

There's an old tale told about a young girl who recieved a book. She skimmed through and at first take it was Pure Blah, so she slid it under her bed with her dirty socks, monsters and asthma medications.

Months later she met an engaging young man. Snazzy and intelligent as this man was she delighted in his company and soon got to discussing books. She discovered that this very dusty book in her possession was in fact, his brain child. What did that girl do?
I'll tell you, Mr. Blah. She rushed home and retrieved that book. Mangled as it was, she read the book from cover to cover till she had sated her lusts.

What made the difference between the first reading and the second reading, you ask?
Knowledge is power and nothing is more powerful for the gleaning of knowledge than human interaction.
Haha. That was a bunch of tripe, but this one thing Is True:

Esteemed author.....


Sincerely yours, Faire un Nom


on again, off again

6:00 am.
Driving to Florida.
10 hours.

Staying till Wednesday. From thence to TexASS.

See you on the flipside.

Those awkward silences that last till after dinner

I was sitting in the living room, chatting it up with my cousins when I imagine I hear a faint call.

I pause.

Strain my ears and hear a plaintive "Yelp! Yelp!" Follow the *holla* down the hall till I encounter Martincito's head peering from behind the bathroom door.

"A towel, por favor?" he pleads, obviously naked.

"Uh, you DO know that no one's around. You could've just run out and grabbed it from the closet. It's only like 3 feet away." I inform him.

"Yeah, but I thought that my moms' just next door.
I didn't want to risk her coming out, seeing me, and having one of those awkward silences that last till after dinner."

Like it's NObody's business

I made deer jerky today. There's certainly a first time for everything.

For my services I was handed a cap that states: "I'm all about Jerky!" Since it really wasn't something I wanted to advertize, I passed on that golden offer...but for the record..(don't spread it around)
"I can jerky like it's nobody's business."


Watch the world

I overheard a song from Box Car Racer today which just brought back the largest wave of nostalgia I've had in a while. Memories of summer, long car rides sing/screaming with my sister, living out of a trailer and hanging out with the bestest of friends, making out and filming foolishness on my trusty camcorder. Life is too short not to be extreme.
good times. good times.

i watched the smoke, as it grew darker and blew up through the roof
i watched the FED, saw them panic, as the fire grew
i saw Virginia, get rid of Langley, and its secrets too
i held your hand, and sat there knowing, that we'd make it through

i saw this man dispose of hunger and soap operas too
i saw this field, that grew perfection full of things you do
i saw this box, get rid of heartache and cure cancer too
when i awoke i sat there hoping, this is what we'll do

if we can, we will leave a letter and this song for you
and we'll write once a day and put it through the sea to you
we'll regret all those things we thought of but didn't ever do

if we can we will leave a letter and this song for you
and we'll write once a day and put it through the sea to you
we'll regret all those things we thought of but didn't ever do
when the sky seems to clear who will then be left, but a few, me and you..

Visiting the dentist when you have to pee sucks.

My orthodontist, a certain Dr. Lindrum, is a rather attractive man in his mid-thirties with blue eyes and a charming grin. Having been gone for 2 years I'm due a visit.
I sit in the lumpy grey chair and pleasantly exhange niceties.

"How've you been? It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Yea well, I've been in Mexico..."

"Gab, small talk, gab"

I lie back, open my mouth and brace myself for the oral onslaught.

"Alright, I'm just going to poke around with my tool."


My juvenile mind is snickering uncontrolably at the innuendo. I try not to smirk. Dr. Lindrum looks slightly flustered and continues "poking".

Minutes pass and I'm counting checker patterns on the ceilinig above me and studying the dials on the spot light when my worthy doctor slips a metal contraption in my mouth, "Sorry," he states, "I know this is quite a mouthful."

A corner of my mouth quirks and poor Dr. L turns a shade of pink and nearly loses his pointy little instrument.

Inside, I am of course, unbelievably amused. You'd think that with years in the profession they'd get used to the subtle intimations or even use them as part of *humor in the workplace*. (Do you know that dentists have the highest rate for suicide in the world, this could be why.)

As he's finishing up, he comments, "You have the whitest teeth I ever came across."

Chortle chortle. Alright, well not quite but, grant me, it'd have been funny. Laughter does wonders for your lifespan.

Don't I know it.