I kind of like this one.

Exotic Dancer Name Is...

Felony

Exotic Dancer Name Generator

Time for me to go now...

You know, I've been in Omaha for approximately three weeks, and apathy has already set in. I'd post more, but in all honesty, I'm not hyped.

My knitting continues (okay, mostly ripping out stuff I've attempted to knit), I managed to get devoured by any number of biting insects in places I can't begin to scratch in public, and my Mother is still able to get on my last nerve, even while she's asleep (as she has mastered the art of whining while snoring while farting and flopping about restlessly like a dying fish). I've developed some kind of weird addiction to Arby's Sourdough Ham & Cheese Melts (mostly because they're not fried and they're cheap), and as if this place isn't already repressive enough, the town is overrun by Britney Spears wannabees serving as groupies for the shitload of baseball players here for the annual College World Series. Once upon a time, baseball used to be fun for me to watch, however in my middle-age, my patience for sweaty, drunken midwesternerers and their slack-jawed offspring has essentially evaporated. They're all so "wholesome" and oozing with how-do-you-say, "family-values" it's enough to induce projectile vomiting. (I hate them so much, right now...)

That's about all for my rant--now, I have to go strip down and commence to scratching like a baboon. The only calamine lotion in the house is so old, it doesn't even have a UPC code on the bottle. You think that stuff goes bad after say, 17 years?

Wish me luck...ciao fo' now.

Do I Make You Proud...?

I adore CanCon as much as the next person. But this makes me positively burst with pride!

Just make sure you have your speakers on, and for gawd's sake, don't even think about checking this out at work.

Thank you.

She's back...(see?)

Obligatory Knitting Content
featuring The Back of My Head

Finally, I have arrived in the land of Berkshire-Hathaway. I got here Monday, however, I've been too wasted to post until now. Big ups to everyone in my knitting posses who sent warm wishes and words of encouragement--they are greatly appreciated.

Tuesday, I presented the knitters at Mangelsen's with cheap-ass loonie candy from Dollarama, and a shitload of Coffee Crisp (I think they liked it, Mikey)! Who knew?

...At first I thought it just said R.I.P.

Thursday, I reconnected with the gang (and I use that term in the least violent way possible) at String of Purls. Carin, the official Nurse of our weekly SnB's, presented me with this incredibly charming-yet-practical baby sock that doubles as a stich marker holder (and inside were five of the cutest stitch markers that matched, no less)! How crafty is that shit? Color me amazed.

Lorna (who is abnormally thoughtful) brought a big ol' bag of scones, freshly baked by her sister. Naturally, I took the few leftovers home. Mother attempted to steal them, but I caught her during one of her rooting episodes and managed to get them away from her. And here's the deal--if you take the fragments at the bottom of the bag and put them in a bowl with a dollop of butter and a few squirts of honey, they taste great after you nuke 'em for a few secs. Try it--you'll like it.

Dead Folks doing what they do best.

The annual Death Tour has been split into fragments, due to the incredibly ginormous monkey wrench the Ass Clowns threw into our travel plans. Monday, I went from Lachine at 6h to Hiawatha, Kansas at 18h, then back to Omaja by 21h. We got back just before the thunder and lightning started . But I managed to get in a few pics for your viewing pleasure.

Miss Pearl the guinea pig is doing well, and I look forward to visiting relatives from whom I've begged favors while I was away. Right now however, I'm sigining off, as it's time for me to begin the semi-regular ritual of cramps, bloating, and what Madison Avenue euphemistically once called "The Joy of Being A Woman."

Analgesics are always welcome.

Shalom, y'all.