Oh, Hello!

My days have been a blur of...

Job searches. Coffee. Taxes. Coffee. Filing for unemployment. Coffee. Interruptions from Hoop. Hoop dancing with the dog. Hoop telling me about something on T.V. Hoop asking me a billion-fucking-times what I'm doing. Hoop asking me to pluck his ear hair. Hoop barging in on me while I'm pooping. Me screaming at Hoop not to barge in on me while I'm pooping. No more coffee for Hoop. Me running into the wall while I'm trying to wrestle the coffee creamer out of Hoop's hands. Run Hoop Run.

And that was just TODAY.

Here are those sightseeing pictures I promised on Thursday.

Nashville's Parthenon


The original full-scale replica was built in 1897 out of plaster for the Tennessee Centennial Exposition. It was so popular, the city decided to leave it up until it became too dilapidated to enter. In 1920 it was rebuilt out of concrete and stands today as a museum. Unfortunately, it was closed the day we visited.

Nathan Bedford Forrest Statue

This monstrosity may look like it's on government property, as it faces a main highway, but I've been assured that it's not. As a monument to the founding father of the KKK, you can understand why this statue gets shot at and vandalized a lot.

Beautiful Park Tree

Stupidity Is Infinite

I was driving down the road yesterday when I came across a kid on the sidewalk who was waving at me in a very peculiar way. He was pumping his fist in the air, up and down, up and down while smiling broadly. I slowed down just a tick to wave back. "How sad!" I thought. "That poor little slow boy's parents have left him to walk to school alone." Then the tow truck beside me honked his horn, an answer to the obvious "honk-your-horn" gesture the kid was making at it.

Whatever doubts I had about not being smarter than a 5th grader have just been confirmed.
************

Daily Hoop Conversation:
(While watching T.V.)
Hoop: Did you see that?
Tink: See what?
Hoop: A washer and dryer combo that can complete a load in 30 minutes.
Tink: Neat!
Hoop: Do you know how quickly we could do our laundry with one of those?
Tink: In 30 minutes.
Hoop: ...
Tink: Was that a trick question?
************

Is it just me, or does this man who washed up on Christmas Eve look like Santa Claus?

Holiday Hangover

I didn't get nearly enough sleep last night. This means I'm working on little more than a skull filled with Jell-O today. My brain is moving so slow, I just realized that I can have a thought, wait a few seconds, and then catch it on the other side as it processes. Neat. It's like slow motion baseball. But for the brain. And if my catcher was a one-armed blind person wearing cement shoes. I'm pretty sure a few thoughts have gone missing along the way too. I just had one involving lunch... which ended an hour and a half ago.

Christmas was wonderful. Hoop and I were completely spoiled. I got a new digital camera (Canon PowerShot SD880 IS), a GPS system for my car, Rollerblades, and two baby fruit trees (among other things). Hoop got a digital drawing tablet, video games, and the only DVD copy I could find of the 1986 classic movie "Rad". He asked me last night if I wanted to watch it again. But there's only so many Star Trek throwback jumpers I can stomach to see in one week. How was that ever cool?!

The Secret Santa goody bags on Christmas morning were NOT a hit. It was pretty disheartening, actually. Only four people out of the the ten we gave to acted appreciative. Four people took their bags without even a thank-you. One woman thought Hoop was planning on robbing her. One gentleman, a truck driver delivering fuel, turned his nose up at the present I was offering and asked, "What's in it?" real snottily. When I told him it was candy (not to mention a $5 gift card), he stepped back and glared at me. "Do I LOOK like I need candy?!"

Needless to say, I didn't give it to him after that. I'm not sure we're going to do this again next year. That kind of breaks my heart. Part of me wonders if maybe there's a reason those people were working on Christmas Day. Or perhaps people (as a whole, not you) are undeserving of kindness anymore. They're so unused to it, they don't know what to DO with it when they get it. But I don't want to believe that. Hoop's Uncle says that the only way to avoid punishment for kindness is to donate anonymously. So maybe we'll do that instead.

*Sigh*

Boogers.

What did you get/give/do for the Holidays?

Ho Hum

Today, I am the laziest person alive. Enjoy my lame attempt to fill a post by answering some of your comments from yesterday's post here, instead of in the comment section where this kind of crap belongs. I'm sorry. Ok, I'm not. But that shouldn't stop you from loving me.

Knight said: Okay, I have it all figured out. What you need to do is convince your followers that Twisted Tink is actually the story of creation and make it the new bible like the scientologists did with the sci-fi book. If they believe you hold the keys to their happiness and afterlife they will start giving you money so you will help them. Just imagine, you could have a huge group of people that follow you around dressed as fairies and believing you have magical powers.

You. Are. Brilliant! Maybe I could recruit the real, live Peter Pan to be my pope. We'd have a holiday every Monday. Casual Fridays would mean coming to work in your PJ's, drunk. Wings would be mandatory, obviously. But the dudes could wear black ones, with spikes on them. I'm not picky. All I would require is your absolute submission... Just like the government. I would totally rock as Ruler.

Mamatulip said: Tell me about the follow feature. Is it like Twitter? I'm not on Blogger so I have no idea what you're talking about.

I'm not exactly sure how it works either. All I know is that when you log on to your Blogger account, there's a little icon that says "Followers". When you click on it, it shows you who has pledged to be your loyal henchman (or woman) for all of time. Pretty neat, huh? So far I have eleven henchpeople.

Apathy Lounge said: Books, The Office, reruns of The Gilmore Girls. Toast with butter. Chocolate milk. Mexican beer.

I heart Jim. Is it deranged that I think I would LIKE working in that office?

Michael Knight Rambo said: I always wanted to be a cult leader. I like the idea of sitting around drinking and sleeping with my hot followers while they make me money and do my laundry and stuff. Plus you can make them do silly shit like chanting and whatnot. I tried to start one at work a few years ago but I'm just too lazy and have no follow through. Sigh. Good Luck!

See, that's where you screwed up. There are supposed to be incentives to joining a cult. Like free drugs... or WINGS. P.S. I've been dying to ask you, what's the story behind your name?

Chris said: Y'know, I think you can create your own Wikipedia page - you and Hoop should go for it!

I could; but who would read it? I'm waiting until we get famous (or infamous) first.

One Daisy said: I am currently worshiping batteries. They seem to be a girls best friend. I could be the Duracell Queen and wear a head garment made of copper. Of course I would be wearing fabulous shoes too.

No, a vibrator is a girl's best friend. But hey, maybe that's where all your batteries are going. ;)

Alli said: I would totally join your cult. totally. as long as you don't make me wear squirrel feet in my hair. By the way, I decided you look like a young Diane Lane. Have you been told that a million times?

I haven't! But I'm really flattered. Thank you. Let's do a comparison.

Diane Lane-


Tink-

Hot picture, huh?

Speaking of hot pictures, check out this ad I saw on Facebook:


Oh crap, I'm out of time! I had other things to say too. Like, what the hell is hot bologna in a jar?! This is really going to aggravate Jay . He hates when I only reply back to some of the comments and not all of them. Oh well. I guess I'll have to make him co-cult leader.

Have a great/safe weekend Homebloys!

My Own Cult

I've been busy. So, I hadn't really gotten the chance to check out Blogger's new "Follower" feature until today. So far, I have seven followers. SEVEN. Whoo! I'm thinking five more and I can consider myself a cult. But don't worry, no free Kool-aid here. No way, baby. You want Kool-aid, you're going to have to PAY for it. On a side note, does anyone else think it's kind of crazy that people in the 30's actually took to something that implied they needed an aid to be cool? Of course, it was during the Great Depression. I'm sure morale was pretty low.

Since we're not going to be having Kool-aid, and I'm not creative enough to design my own supreme being, I'm thinking my cult should revolve around Spore. Spore is my new obsession and cults are all about obsessions, aren't they? I created my own world last night (Tinktopia) and started my own colony of single cell organisms (Widgets). They ate other organisms and eventually (45 minutes later) they had evolved to be land dwellers. Holy crap, I think that makes ME a supreme being! I wonder if I could add the Widgets to my list of followers. Their brains are only the size of lint balls though.

Maybe my cult could be about this guy. His site, The Best Page In The Universe, kept me entertained for hours yesterday while I was supposed to be working. He's even got his own Wikipedia page. That's like having King status in the land of nerd. My favorite line on his Wiki page is, "Maddox decided to name his site 'The Best Page in the Universe' despite his knowledge that Yahoo! blocked sites with the phrase 'the best' in the title from inclusion in its search engine". For real? We need to test this out... OK, I just did. It's bullshit.

So tell me, if you had a cult, what would you worship? I need ideas so I can steal them. Would it be your favorite TV show? How about your favorite band? Maybe you would base your cult around belly lint and then create a tapestry out of all the different colors you collect! Hey, it could be kind of cool. Gross, but cool. Hey, maybe I should Google that... Holy cow! I just found a forum where a dude claimed he would pay $40 a pound for Vegan belly lint. Don't believe me? Go here. Or, you could just read his post below.

"THERE IS A PRIZE OF 1,000 ZIASTERS FOR THE MOST CREATIVE OBJECT OR IMAGE CREATED WITH BELLY BUTTON LINT. I AM TRYING TO COLLECT IT FOR MY PROJECT. (SECRET) AND AM WILLING TO PAY $40 A POUND FOR VEGAN LINT. I DON'T WANT ANY ANIMAL FLESH INVOLVED IN ANY WAY. I AM USING THE AZTEC AND MAYAN RECIPE FOR BELLY BUTTON LINT AND I STAND A REAL GREAT CHANCE. I ONLY NEED 2 MORE POUNDS. DON'T SEND ANYTHING MOLDY OR RANCID. I ONLY WANT THE 'BEST'."

Daily Etsy Pick:
Sleep Mask by Lovelyart
Puppy With Handlebar Mustache Cards
Golden Rain Tree Seed Tin

WTF Etsy?:
Warning: Evil Baby
Taxidermy Squirrel Foot Hair Barrette
Urine Sample Candle

Suzy Homewrecker

I woke up this morning in a funk. Hoop was still sleeping when I stumbled out of the shower to look for clothes. After wading through piles of dirty ones, I finally found the unfolded stack Hoop had washed the night before. I had been slaving away over the stove at the time, too busy to supervise. Had I known he was only going to wash the clothes I'd already worn for the week, I might have been able to salvage my morning. But I hadn't, and here I was, faced with a dilemma. Do I wear the outfit I wore on Monday or mix-and-match and hope no one notices?

"FUCK!" I yelled, kicking at the nearest pile of dirty clothes. For a moment my inner kid popped through and shouted, "Wheeeeee!" So I kicked another... and another. Then I upended the large basket of unfolded clean clothes. Then I kicked the dryer for good measure. I was just starting to feel better when Hoop ran out of the bedroom, rubbing his eyes. "Whasgoinon?" "I want a part time job," I told him. "Oh-Kay," He mumbled. "I'm serious. I can't keep up with all this shit AND a full time job AND plan a wedding AND cook dinner every night."

Hoop opened his eyes a little wider. "So you want to be a part time house wife?" "Yes!" Then I thought, "Oh my God. Did I really just say that? I DID! Holy shit, I meant it. That's it, I'm brainwashed. Those fuckers at the life improvement center really did it. They turned me into Suzy Homemaker. Now I'm going to start talking like I belong in Stepford. I might as well go buy an entire set of aprons with Monday through Friday stitched on them." "It'll be OK, baby." Hoop rubbed my arm lovingly. "You keep getting ready and I'll go find you an outfit to wear." So it's true... They got Hoop too.

Dun, dun, duuuuuuun.

P.S. Sorry I haven't been around to everyone's blog to comment this week. Things have been crazy around here. I'll be sure to stop by soon! For those of you waiting on your contest winnings, I'm running a little behind. Are you seriously surprised? But the good thing (for you) is, I keeping adding more stuff to it the longer I wait to go the post office. They'll be shipped in the next couple of days. Much love, Homebloys.

Ugh

Work is holding me hostage today.

You all are on your own until tomorrow.

Unless, of course, you want to break me out.

That would be freakin' awesome.

Delayed On Account Of Stupidity

The 3rd Annual Blog Header Showdown will start tomorrow, and not today as originally stated. We were without power for most of the weekend and it was all my fault. As I was blow drying my hair Saturday morning, the power went out. Oddly, it didn't dawn on me to think that the two might have anything to do with each other. No. My conclusion was that we were experiencing a brownout. Hoop checked the breakers, but not thoroughly. Because, as I'd told him, we were having electrical problems. So what was the point? It would be back up soon.

Fast forward to last night. -Do you like how I did that? You didn't even have to live through the torture of the whole thing! You're welcome.- Still no power. "Listen," Hoop finally confessed. "I've never heard of a brownout before. But I'm pretty sure our electricity should be back on by now." I had to agreed. "Maybe it's one of the GFCI outlets." I am so fucking brilliant. So we ran around the house looking for reset buttons to press. That's when we realized that our house only has ONE GFCI outlet, and it's not in either of the two bathrooms. Huh. Termites AND shoddy electric work.

After pressing the reset button of the lone GFCI outlet, the electricity still wasn't back on. That's when Hoop decided to go back out to the box. "Oh!" Came his muffled reply a minute later. "This breaker wasn't fully tripped!" Suddenly, the lights came back on. I couldn't decide whether I should be elated or pissed. "Yay!" I shouted, followed by "What the hell, Hoop? I had headers to make tonight!" His smile quickly turned to confusion. "But YOU said it was a brownout." And that's when I realized...

It's not always such a great idea to act like you know what you're talking about.

Because the one time someone decides to listen to you, you're going to be wrong.

Daily Hoop Conversation:
Tink: Wouldn't you say that I'm a pretty independent person?
Hoop: ...Sure you are.
Tink: Why did you hesitate?
Hoop: I didn't hesitate.
Tink: You did to! What, you don't think I'm independent?
Hoop: You're always asking for help.
Tink: With what?
Hoop: The laundry, the dishes, the yard-
Tink: *Smacks Hoop's arm*
Hoop: What? It's TRUE.

TOMORROW: WWC and the start of the 3rd Annual Blog Header Showdown. Yeah, both. I know, I'm crazy. My head is going to blow up one of these days. Btw, don't forget to get your MS Button below if you've participated in Newt and OneDaisy's Fundraiser.

Crack Tea With Balls

This may come as a shock to none some of you, but I happen to have an addictive personality. The first time someone told me this, I thought it was a compliment. Like, "Aw, they're addicted to me! Isn't that sweet?" My date promptly corrected me... right after I made some dumbass comment about them needing to make Tinkorette gum. The point is, it wasn't so obvious to me then. Sure, I dabbled in illegal substances when I was young. But that never developed into a habit. Then there were cigarettes, coffee, and Pez. Oh how I loved those little candy bricks. But not the yellow ones, they tasted like Pledge.

Pez was later replaced with Zebra gel pens and cigarettes with ITunes. At one time I loved the game Creatures. That bled into Creature game forums, which lead to blogging (hey Homebloys!), which collected sites like Etsy, Facebook, and Neopets. I've since realized that I have an addiction problem. If there is the slightest possibility that I might really like something new, I try to stay away from it. But apparently, my addiction has adapted, grown legs, and attached itself to things I would have never dreamt of liking. Like Boba. Do you know what this stuff is? It's the crack of the tea world.

The first time I bought one of these drinks I handed it back to the guy and said, "Uh. There's something in the bottom of my drink, man." To be honest, it looked like rabbit poop. I wasn't going to allow my brain to process the thought to my mouth though. "Is Boba!" The Swede behind the counter laughed. "You know, bubbles?" "Those are NOT bubbles." Who was he trying to fool? "No, no. Tapioca balls." Oh great, now they're balls?! Then he made a motion with his mouth as if sucking a straw, which might have been a little obscene. "You eat balls!" He handed me back the drink. I stared at the straw, suddenly noticing how large it was.

"Oh-kay." So I drank until something gummy and round popped through the straw opening. Then I chewed it. My first reaction was total disgust. There should not be gummy balls in my milk tea! But the texture grew on me, as did the strange nutty taste (no pun intended). I threw the empty cup away later thinking, "Well, that was interesting." Little did I know, the drink had already worked over my addictive personality. Now I can't go to the mall without making a beeline for the Boba shop. Have any of you experienced this wonderful/horrible drink? Are you convinced it's laced with crack too?

*Ok, I just read over this post and I can't decide whether it is overly sexually suggestive or just really disturbing. So I'm not going to end on that note. I also have a growing addiction to Yahoo Answers. Let me tell you, there are some bizarre questions out there. There are also some really good questions too. *Digs toe in dirt* Yeah, that's my question. If that isn't enough of an indication, we found another venue for our wedding! Yay! It's beautiful (facing a marsh) and completely secluded (we'll be the only wedding allowed there that day). We also found active termites in our bathroom yesterday. @#?$! Details to come.

How was your weekend?

Angora Goat

When someone gives you an award for saying something quotable, it's important not to sound like a total dumbass in your acceptance post. Which explains why I drew a blank this afternoon when trying to think of clever ways to say how honored I am to receive these...

(Click 'em; they're links)

...from Musing over at Blogtations, possibly one of the most addictive sites EVER. This said by the chick who spends several hours a week on Etsy, Facebook, Flickr, and Neopets. Yes, I said Neopets. I happen to like the games on there, oh-kay?

While I was sitting here, staring at my empty post and waiting for a muse, something strange happened. I heard beeping. For a moment I wondered if it was all in my head. No one else in the office had even paused from what they were doing to listen to it. Maybe, I thought, I had finally pushed my brain too far and it was just warning me that it was shutting down for good. "Hey! Hey you! I thought you might like to know that you have approximately two minutes before I turn out the lights. Thanks again for the free room and board."

Then I came to my senses, got out of my chair and followed the sound to the dying smoke alarm across the room. "Is anyone going to do anything about this?" I asked the four strapping young men at the main desk. One of them climbed up on the counter, removed the batteries and then climbed back down again. "Problem solved," he said while plopping the warm batteries in my hand. Just peachy. I wonder how many other alarms they've "fixed" in just the same way. Reminder to brain (who has, in fact, NOT vacated yet): Don't keep important things at work anymore.

After I came back to my desk there was still the matter of coming up with a clever post. Maybe I could turn something that rhymes with "quote" into a witty title! No seriously, this was an actual thought. So I looked up the word "quote" in the rhyming dictionary. Did you even know such a thing existed? These were the suggestions it gave me: Angora goat, banana boat, cereal oat, raw throat, mackinaw coat, straw vote, root beer float. Wow. Having a rhyming dictionary is even LESS useful than I thought it would be.

So now that I have blatantly wasted your time and completely strayed from the subject of this post... Go! Check out Musing's blog. You won't be disappointed. Maybe if you're lucky and get an award for saying something clever, YOU won't make a total ass out of yourself during your acceptance post. At the very least, don't mention that you have an unhealthy obsession with a site that features virtual pets for little kids. Even if your "pet" is a cute little red Grundo wearing flaming shoes named Luki. Aw. Thanks again Musing!

Blurg

My laziness has hit a new low.

I'm too lazy to write a decent post today, which is what I used to do when I was too lazy to work. So now instead of procrastinating work by posting, I'm procrastinating posting, which I do to procrastinate working, so I can stare at my computer screen and daydream about what I'm going to do on the weekend. Which, by the way, is currently five days from now. I really think I need a more stimulating job. Maybe something that will kill me if I don't do it. "If you don't push this button every six seconds on the second an anvil will fall on your head." Now THAT'S motivating!

We went and saw Iron Man this weekend. See how lazy I am? I can't even be bothered to link to the site. The movie was, for lack of a better word, fucking-awesome. It's one word! See, I put a little "-" thingy in there. The graphics rocked. The story rocked. The music rocked. And Robert Downey Jr. was HOT. There. It's limited vocabulary Monday folks. Deal with it. No matter who you are, you should go see this flick. Hoop, Lil Bit and I gave it five sporks up. Also, wait until after the credits roll. There's an extra clip at the end.

For those of you who live under rocks... It's OK. I don't judge. ...today is Cinco De Mayo. I think that translates to Drink-tequila-until-you-can't-pronounce-the-word-tequila Day. Yay!! Actually, it's a celebration of the day Mexico declared Independence from Spain. But no one ever mentions that part. To celebrate, my boss has bought 200 cheap straw sombreros to give out at promotions around town. When I mentioned they looked cheap to a friend, he said, "Have you ever seen an expensive one?" Touche. I guess it doesn't matter anyway. Drunk people will take anything as long as it's free.

Come on, you know it's true.

I once gave a drunk friend of mine a shoe. She continued talking like it was no big deal. So I decided to give her more things. By the time I ran out of things to give her she had a shoe, a pen, my phone, a stack of coasters, an empty cup, and my purse in her hands. She didn't catch on until everyone started laughing. Then she looked down and said, "Where did all this crap come from?!" I'm not sure if Hoop and I will brave the crowd tonight or just drink at home and play Grand Theft Auto. I think I might be addicted. I played until 11 last night and just before I was going to call it quits, I found a baseball bat. It was all downhill from there.

So how did your weekend go and do you have any big plans tonight?

Damn It Feels Good To Be A Gangsta

Hoop had a dream last night that I cheated on him with a Gangster...

He was tipped off when I bought a bunch of "How To Make Gang Signs" books.

We played the new Grand Theft Auto last night before bed. You don't think that had anything to do with it, do you? Because I was getting pretty into it. For awhile I was just walking around knocking grocery bags out of people's hands and then running. Then I spent twenty minutes looking for a hooker before Hoop pointed out that it was daylight and they were probably all sleeping. Oh man, I can't wait to see the search terms I get from that sentence.

I had serious issues when it came to driving in the game though. It turned out to be a lot more complicated than real life. I tried to scratch my butt while turning and ended up on the wrong side of a cliff (the bottom). Then I *accidentally beat up a bum and the police came to get me. I tried to surrender but they shot me dead in the street anyway. Evidently, as in real life, cops are dicks. *I was attempting to steal his metal drum filled with fire and his face connected with my hand. Dude should have gotten out of my way.

Speaking of bums... If someone were to interview a bunch of bums and then publish their work, would you read it? *Cough* Theoretically speaking, of course. When I asked Hoop the same question he didn't answer. But he did suggest a title. "Bum Juice." Bum. Juice. I don't know either. I think he might be sniffing glue at work. Our receptionist just nonchalantly sent out a page that we should avoid a certain highway because the police are having a shootout. I just looked it up and according to the news, the shootout was with a bum.

Whoa.

Braum

Hoop woke me in the middle of the night with a cry out of sleep...

"Braum!"

I lay there for at least ten minutes trying to figure out what it meant. Had he meant "Bomb!" or "Broom!" or maybe "Bra!"? I felt his skin flinching under the strain of some imagined movement. I tried to pull away and look, but he had ahold of my arm as if I were a floatation device. He kept mumbling and something in the haziness of my sudden awakening made me feel slightly panicked. Was I was the buoy keeping him from tumbling into a nightmare? I don't know how long I lay there, awake but not, too afraid to move even though my arm was tingling.

Finally, as the twitches slowed and then stopped, I felt safe enough to pull my arm away. But sleep didn't come back to me willingly. I tossed around in my sliver of space, careful not to kick the dogs or Hoop. What did it mean? "I'll ask him in the morning," I thought. I was sure Hoop would remember. As soon as the alarm went off this morning, Hoop turned to me and covered my nose in kisses. The night's events came back to me in a flood. "You yelled 'Braum' in your sleep last night!" I blurted. Hoop was quiet. I wondered if he'd heard me. Maybe he fell back asleep?

"Pfft," he said, suddenly. "Oh-kay."

"I'm serious! You yelled 'Braum' in your sleep. It actually woke me up!"

"I did NOT."

"Oh my God, how can you not believe me?!"

"I don't talk in my sleep."

He doesn't even remember what he was dreaming about. The next time he yells in his sleep and wakes me up in the middle of the night, I'm going to flick him in the forehead. Then I'm going to ask him what he was dreaming about, right then, while it's still fresh in his head. Braum indeed. I'm so tired, my eyes feel like they're bobbing around in my head like marshmallows. No amount of coffee will wake me from my stupor. Perhaps I'll curl up under my desk for a minute or two... So tell me a bedtime story, will you?

What's the strangest dream you've ever had?

Btw: The second picture in Tuesday's post is of an odd hole in the city gate surrounding St. Augustine. The rumor is, it was once used to fire guns out of. Although it's just as likely that it was where the drawbridge connected to the coquina.

Over Dramatic

It's official...

I'm never going to be an actress.



Btw, there's no need for concerned emails. I do NOT have jaundice. Nor is my bathroom really that yellow. The 1980's lighting in this house sucks. If you would like to see my other vlogging catastrophes masterpieces, click on the "Vlog" label below. Or you could click on the "Stupidity" label; I'm sure there's plenty of crap to make your brain rot on there.

Daily Etsy Pick:
Elephant Mug
(Or as I like to call it, "The-Cup-That-Will-Never-Forget." But maybe that's too long. I dunno. Today's pick has been created by a fellow blogger, the amazingly talented GR. Show some love and buy some stuff.)

Have a wonderful weekend Homebloys!

I'm Addicted...

...to Etsy.

It's all Chris' fault.

It's become this sickness. I go on there and spend HOURS admiring all the beautiful, handmade stuff. Like these, and this. Ooo, and this! So, if I've been sporadic in my commenting and posting lately it's because I've sold my soul to Etsy. I know, I'm a Blogger traitor. I can't help it. I'm weak!

Some of you asked in yesterday's comments what I'm reading right now. I just finished "Water For Elephants" by Sara Gruen last week, which was PHENOMENAL. Now I'm reading "Under The Banner Of Heaven", a book about the Mormon cult religion, by Jon Krakauer. The book is both fascinating and scary. If it weren't for the fluidity of the writing, I'm not sure I'd be able to continue. Next on my list is "13th Tale" by Diane Setterfield. Good God, could I possible shove anymore links into this post?

Last night was pretty boring. I was OK when I got home. I made dinner, played with the pups, and then read until LOST came on. But after the show was over, I sat there for about ten minutes trying to figure out what to do with myself. Total time Hoop will be gone, 77 hours. Total time it took me to miss him, 4 hours. It's going to be a loooong weekend. I'm not one of those needy, have-to-be-around-people chicks either. I genuinely like my alone time. But I also like to decide when I'm ready to not be alone again.

In Other News:
(I'm also addicted to LOLCATS now. I think I can blame that one on Chris too. She's such a pusher.)










Have a fantastic weekend Homebloys!

My Inner Geek

Anyone here into LOST?

If you go on the Oceanic Airlines site, copy the text on the homepage and then paste it somewhere else you get this:

If anyone should find this message, please get word I'm alive and stranded on an island somewhere in the South Pacific. Please send help soon. Things are bad. And they're getting worse...

I survived a horrific plane crash and am stranded on an island somewhere Northeast of Australia and Southwest of Hawaii. In the event that I am never found, please forward word of my fate to my parents.

Sally


(Picture duplicated and then flipped)

Also, if you go to the "Track Flight" section and click "Track" next to the first option, you'll see this message among the flight information:

572 Giveus THE 08:00 24:00 -- BOY 08:00 24:00 --

If you click on "Track" of the second option it brings you to a seating chart for the plane. Click on "Pre-board Check-In". What you see next is the name "Ethan Rom" and a bunch of blank boxes. Click and drag the letters until they spell out "Other Man", the anagram of Ethan's name. A clip of Walt being taken by the Others suddenly appears. Creepy huh?

Then, if you click on the seating arrangement in the numbers of Hurley's winning lotto ticket (4,8,15,16,23,42) you get another clip from season two as well as being directed to another site. Obviously this stuff is pretty old, we're already on season four. But I was tickled that I found it on my own. It's kind of like finding the clue sites for Cloverfield here and here. I know, I'm such a nerd.

Look for another post later!

I Hate Elves

I had a meeting in Orlando yesterday for work. Here are the notes I took:

"Does anyone else find it disconcerting that there are so many elves in the work field? Rice Crispie has them. Keebler has them. Santa has a whole shop of them! I seriously suspect the Lucky Charms leprechaun is really an elf in disguise. Are they cheaper? Are they able to work longer hours? Please, I want to know. Because I think it's awfully unfair that they've cornered the market like they have. I like toys and food! I don't even mind wearing pointy shoes."

This came after I snagged a chocolate chip cookie from the snack tray and realized it had fudge in the middle. FUDGE... in my COOKIE. Like, it wasn't really a cookie at all, but rather a fudge square disguised with a delicious looking cookie shell. But I wouldn't really know that because there wasn't even enough cookie to pick off. I of course blamed the Keebler elves. They're obviously fucking with us.

As you can tell, I learned a lot from this meeting.

In Other News:

Tom Cruise is crazy. Surprise, surprise. Watch this video as he explains his views on Scientology. At least that's what I think he's doing. I didn't actually understand anything he said other than "you're either in it or not," a dozen times. I get it dude. You have to join the cult to get the free punch. I think I'll pass.

Hoop and I watched "Hellboy" two nights ago. The movie makes a reference to Rasputin, who (until this film) I hadn't known much about. Then Hoop mentioned some old legend about Rasputin defying death despite being poisoned, shot, and stabbed. So of course I had to google the man. What I read wasn't nearly as fascinating as this picture I found. Check out the chick with the mustache. Egad. Did they not have wax back then?!

Anyhoop, I'm out of rambles. Hope your day is going well homebloys!

Where one ramble leads to another...

"Come over tomorrow night and help us unload the air hockey table," I told Nash on Wednesday. "Then we'll drink beer and play a few rounds." So he passed the word to Bob, who gladly agreed to come. Both arrived on time, unaware that the table had to be ASSEMBLED too. "What the fuck?" Nash said after spying the box of over two hundred screws. "This is going to take all night!" And it did. The boys were still piecing together the legs when I fell asleep at eleven. I woke up an hour later to Hoop shaking me. "It's done, baby!" He hissed in my ear. So I shuffled out to the garage, kicked their asses in a couple games, and went to bed.

To be fair, Bob was behaving as if he'd never played air hockey before, swinging his pusher around like a gorilla with a broken arm. The dogs were so freaked out by his antics that they attacked him. Jazzi, the dog who loves everyone, actually seemed to be enjoying mauling his shoe. I guess even dogs have breaking points. Bob's a cool guy to hang out with... If you're human. He'll do anything you dare him to do. ANYTHING. The boy seems to live solely for the purpose of entertaining us. We have to reign ourselves in from daring him to do things that might get us in trouble. Because once you start Bob, there's no turning him off.

The truly odd thing about Bob is that he's all impulse and no thought. He lies for no reason at all. He'll say he's drunk when he's not. He'll bail because he "just got a call," when it's obvious that his phone hasn't rang all night. You'll call him for days only to have him tell you that his phone just got cut off. "Then how am I talking to you now?" You'll say. Then he'll sputter and exclaim, "Well look at that!" Nash met Bob when they were just old enough to have jobs. Bob was sleeping in a maintenance closet. They were both fired a few months later. The next job they got together was at the movie theater. The night they started was the night I quit.

The whole crew quit that night, actually. Corporate had sent a mole to scout out our operation. Apparently our drug dealing manager was not to their liking. WE loved her just fine though. In between sets she would meet us out back with a joint and a bucket of popcorn. Bob had just walked into the back room to clock in. "Good luck tonight," I told him as I peeled off my company-issue shirt and vest. I tossed it to him, standing there in nothing more than my bra and black pants. "Where are you going?" He asked us. I slipped a t-shirt on. "We're out of here, man. They just fired Donna."

Nash was working the ticket counter when we left. Little did I know I'd be engaged to his brother seven years later. We came back that night with free ticket passes. "How's it going?" We giggled to the only two guys on staff. Nash just glared at us. Later that night my friend T, also a former movie theater employee, tried to steal the "Bedazzled" poster for me. I'd had it earmarked for my Mom, an avid Brendan Fraser fan. I was supposed to be lookout. Unfortunately for T, the mole had locked up the cases. After a bit of struggle, the frame broke under her prying fingers, sending the hard plastic cover crashing to the ground. I looked back to see T fleeing, the poster waving behind her like a flag.

I've always kept odd company. It's not intentional... To my knowledge. One of my current friends, also a coworker, is a 31 year old spinster. Not my label. Hers. You'd think a woman's ovaries dry up at thirty, listening to her. For the last four years her mission has been to land herself a husband. I feel bad for all the men that make a pit stop in her bed. This newest love, she's been dating him for two months, barely made it through Christmas alive. He bought her a new washer and dryer, a new flat screen TV, and an alarm system for the trailer she's renting. Still... She was convinced he was getting her an engagement ring. "There's a jewelry box under the tree!" She insisted repeatedly.

Christmas Eve she told me, "If it's not a ring, I'm going to be SO mad." "Do you hear yourself?" I asked her. "You're fucking crazy." She sent me a text on Monday night. "It was a frog paperweight." I couldn't stop laughing. I literally had to pull off the road for a moment. "Poor girl," I wrote back. "You really are your own worst enemy." She was fine again on Wednesday morning. "Maybe for Valentines," she told me cheerfully. "He could put it in a box of chocolates." I don't think I'm going to invite her to our wedding. I don't think it would be good for her mental health. She might kill the other women vying for the bouquet.

Hope you have a great weekend!

12 Videos Of Christmas

Ok, not really.

But enjoy them anyway.

101 Impressions

Best Reaction To A Present

Lightning Strike Victim

Awesome Stop-Motion Fight

Binocular Soccer

Harder Bodies Faster Stronger

Scrubs Proposal

Hand Drawn

Best First Dance

World's Fastest Clapper

This Kid's Got Moves!

Hammer Time

Doses Of Tink: Twisted has been updated with another new chapter, "Making A Stand." Anyone kind enough to read it will get a personal recommendation from me to Santa. He enlisted yours truly to help him double check the list this year. What did you expect with the population increasing like it is? Poor old guy is working himself toward a heart attack!

P.S. Don't forget, the WWC words for this week are TRADITION and PINK. Happy snapping!

Those of you fortunate enough to have Christmas Eve off, Happy Holidays!

Those of you who aren't, I'll be seeing you on Monday. Bring the booze.

In a perfect world...

...I could have my cake fiance, and a handy boyfriend too.

I love Hoop. I think that's pretty obvious. But there is one thing that Hoop is not, and that's handy. He CLAIMS that he is. But I have yet to see any evidence of this. I think the truth of the matter is, he's handy like I'm patient. I also like to tell myself that I'm prompt too. They're both lies though. While all the other people born on January 29th of 1983 were getting their gifts, I was doled out extra helpings of chronic lateness and impatience. Can you picture the person who got my traits instead? He or she must be a fucking saint.

Two weeks ago my car started overheating. Like clockwork, ten minutes after I was on the road, the needle of my meter would shoot up into the red zone. Oddly, this always happened right in front of a church. I was beginning to think it might be a sign. Hoop checked all my fluids -on my CAR- and deemed they were OK. His conclusion was that the thermostat had gone bad. "It's just a three minute in-and-out job," he said. So I waited for him to find the time to fix it. Friday night, my car overheated three times on the way home. Then the right headlight blew out.

Needless to say, the weekend was a bit hectic, so my car never got tended to. I wasn't worried though. The car wasn't REALLY overheating, right? Tuesday afternoon one of the sales guys, who happens to be dating the receptionist, asked for my keys. He brought them back with the news that my car was out of antifreeze. Niiiice. Hoop's reply was, "So it really was overheating!" I forgave him, thinking he could make it up by filling the car with the antifreeze. Unfortunately, that didn't happen either. "I'll do it myself," I told Hoop grumpily this morning.

I found the jug sitting next to my car door... Full. "Hm. Maybe he doesn't understand how this works?" I thought to myself. The morning ran it's course and ended this afternoon in an argument. The problem is, I happen to think that I, the person in charge of cooking, cleaning, and making sure all the bills get paid, should not be the keeper of the cars as well. Besides the fact that the cars no like me, I don't have the first clue what the hell goes where, when, or in what quantity. The first time I checked my oil, I accidentally checked the power steering fluid instead.

My Mom believes it would take four people to run a household efficiently: two people to work and bring in income, one person to maintenance the inside (cook/clean/etc.), and one person to maintenance the outside (landscape/repair/etc.) Since we can't afford a maid or a handyman, I'm opting for a boyfriend. Think Chef Ramsay meets Ty Pennington. I wouldn't complain if he just so happened to look like Josh Holloway too. Then Hoop and I could work, and Chef Ty Holloway would take care of everything else while we were gone. I'd come home and he'd been all shirtless and- *Cough*

A girl can dream.

Not Far From The Tree:
Tink: I've got a question for you.
Papa Bear: OK.
Tink: If you had to go out in the freezing cold with only enough insulation to cover one appendage, which would you choose: your hands, your feet, your head, your chest, or your balls?
Papa Bear: How long am I going to be out in the cold?
Tink: I don't know. A day?
Mom: Hm. Tricky.
Papa Bear: Then it doesn't matter. I'm going to die either way.
Tink: Just pick one.
Mom: I'm going to say the head.
Papa Bear: Fine.
Mom: So what's the correct answer?
Tink: Correct answer?
Mom: You mean it wasn't a riddle?
Tink: No.
Mom: What the hell?
Tink: I just wanted to know! Sheesh.