babble
Wednesday, April 14, 2004
Dance the ghost with me:
I have this ancient laptop that I use to write many of my totally fascinating posts here at the ol' Fez, and I must say, it has held up pretty well over the years. It may have a tiny hard drive, no integrated ethernet (!) and an inability to support more than 512 MB of RAM, but it's got a DVD drive, supports my wireless card, and serves quite nicely as a jukebox for special occasions. However, I may have to rethink where I keep it, because it is about 15 feet from my window, which faces a major street and is quite close to a major freeway, and so a lot of street schmutz comes in the window. I fear that the street schmutz that is undoubtedly taking years off my life will also contribute to the downfall of my poor old laptop. Therefore, I will protect it with an air purifier, because clearly my laptop's inner workings are far more important than my lungs continuing to function. I say this as a rather stinky large truck just wheezed a good chunk of diesel fumes into my loft. Yum.
In other news, tonight I had a lovely dinner with a new friend, which included the consumption of large amounts of raw fish, spirited discussion about baseball, and random Sisters of Mercy references. Since my friend and I returned to the Brewery after the fun sushi action, I am certain that yet another rumor has already surfaced, which is fine, because I think that from now on I am just going to embrace the rumors and start making up new ones about myself. However, instead of the regular old rumors like "oh my god, she left the bar with so-and-so, clearly they are sleeping together", I will make up excellent ones like "Kathleen is pregnant with Eddie Izzard's love child" and "I totally saw Katherine Moennig leaving Kathleen's place at 3 a.m. with a big hickey on her neck". I will know if this is successful because one of my neighbors would totally punch me if I got to make out with Kate Moennig and she didn't, so I figure I will gauge my rumormongering success by whether or not she punches me in the near future.
Lastly, I would be remiss if I did not chastise you, my dear reader(s), for not commenting enough. You keep asking me to bring back the photos of the hot ladies in my posts, so I did on Sunday, and what did I get? Two. Freakin'. Comments. Come on, now, people. I know you can do better than that. What do I have to do? Mention that I like the Yankees? Talk about my masturbation habits? Post some pussy* photos? Rant about spelling and grammar? Tell you about my torrid love affair with Eddie Izzard? Tell me. I'm totally willing to sell out** for comments.
* I meant of my cat, you perverts. Get your minds out of the gutter.
** To a degree - I mean, I'm not going to start liking the Braves or something horrible like that.
babbled by Kat @ 4:21:00 AM |
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