Happy Birthday

to teague!!

Meme-let

msmoon tagged me for this. Who am I to not do her bidding?

1. Go into your LJ’s archive.
2. Find your 23rd post (or closest to).
3. Find the fifth sentence (or closest to).
4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions.
5. Tag 5 people on your friend list.

Take it for what it's worth.

I'm not tagging anyone 'cos I believe a lot of folks have already done this. Do it if you wish. If not, get along with your bad self.

Shrieky Goodness

I should have all this info up on the sites by tomorrow night, Goddess Willing.

In the meantime.....

( cormorant )

I'm a Hamburger, a Frankfurter, a Doughnut, and a Cuckoo Clock

That first bit is from Eddie Izzard's "Dress to Kill" show, when he was making fun of John F. Kennedy saying "Ich bin ein Berliner." The cuckoo clock bit comes from my favourite Orson Welles line:

"In Italy for 30 years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock."

I knew it would happen, but I didn't realise it would happen so quickly. I've overdosed on happiness and respite. Since my departure from The Pit and my separation from my arch-enemy The Feudal Mistress, I feel that I have swiftly lost my edge. I've become a doughy lump on the couch, spending way too much time actually enjoying Lifetime Television. Aunt Tudi has been passing by on occasion and checking for a pulse. There have actually been some days that not one expletive would come out of my mouth ~ not one!

I feel de-Sithed. It's like I had Maul's balls until my release from The Pit, whereupon I was swiftly castrated. Woe is I!

Before I ever left The Pit, I had expressed dismay at no longer having strife and turmoil in my life, no longer having a nemesis with whom to spar. Now that this has come to pass, I feel out of sorts. No more am I Italy, producing Da Vincis of dread. Lo! I am now Switzerland, popping out cuckoo clocks of contentment! What the hell am I gonna do now?

I'm beginning to hope that school won't be what it always was before, a walk in the park. I'm hoping that I hate my teachers and I struggle with the work. At least, then, I'll have something to bitch about and will once more feel whole.

My problem is that, even though I'm displeased with being happy, I'm too happy to ruin my current state of bliss. I am a bad Sith. Bad, bad Sith!

There are no words for how much I'm looking forward to lunch tomorrow. Judy's farewell/birthday dinner is tomorrow and Aunt Tudi and I will be in attendance. I'm planning on looking fabulous, bright-eyed and rejuvenated for the dinner just to show everyone how much good getting away from The Pit has done me. But I'm also planning on pouring my derision all over the Feudal Mistress with extreme prejudice. It's long overdue and I need to prove to myself that I haven't lost my Sithly mojo.

Where is the Alpaca Lips?

I should know better by now and should be made to write this on a chalkboard at least 500 times to drive the message into my addled head:

DO NOT READ RANDOM JOURNALS IF YOU DON'T WANT YOUR SOUL TO OVERFLOW WITH HATRED FOR ALL HUMANITY

There are way too many people out there who honestly need killin'.

Disc 7

I'm about half way through the extras disc for LOST, season one. It's a good thing the new shows are starting next week; otherwise, I'd be a complete basket case. Picture Charlie asking Locke for his heroin. Yeah, that bad. Yeah.