I have redeemed myself for all instances of questionable shenanigans.
Yes, children. ALL instances.
On a completely different note:
Oh. Em. Ef. Gee.
Two days. I cannot wait!
Sounds Beyond the Daily Noise
11 years ago
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Saturday, December 13, 2008
LSP
The rage has lifted. It is completely last season's Prada. [New catch-phrase, BT Dubs. You're welcome. Be sure to spread it like the syph.]
It's quite miraculous, really. I don't know what happened, but I don't feel like gouging everyone's eyes out with my clickable Sharpie anymore.
It could have been the phone call with Marcus earlier today. It's nice to hear someone excited about your brother's return. And to have them willing to listen to you complain about the heinous bitch your siblings call step-mother. And to know that this person would totally go to a Britney Spears concert with you, no questions asked. And to know that when a girl walks by wearing yellow crocs, double cuffed jeans, VPL, blue glitter eyeshadow, a scrunchie, or anything with the word "bootylicious" on it, you don't need to explain anything; they know.
Though the rage is gone, I still want to go home.
It's quite miraculous, really. I don't know what happened, but I don't feel like gouging everyone's eyes out with my clickable Sharpie anymore.
It could have been the phone call with Marcus earlier today. It's nice to hear someone excited about your brother's return. And to have them willing to listen to you complain about the heinous bitch your siblings call step-mother. And to know that this person would totally go to a Britney Spears concert with you, no questions asked. And to know that when a girl walks by wearing yellow crocs, double cuffed jeans, VPL, blue glitter eyeshadow, a scrunchie, or anything with the word "bootylicious" on it, you don't need to explain anything; they know.
Though the rage is gone, I still want to go home.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
It's funny how the most irreplaceable people in you life are often the ones you'd most like to replace.
A little while ago CRT posted a blog about homosexuality, to which I responded with a very Danielle [sarcastic with a pinch of bitch] comment.
He then sent [it felt more like an attack] me a Facebook message listing points to prove me wrong in my comment. [Which I find a bit funny, considering I made no argument against his post in my comment.]
I was going to counter that message here, but then I realized: I am not Michael Stephanic, and I am not Clark, and I see no reason to "kick some ass" in arguments. It's just not who I am.
I make my position known in sharp statements, and move on. [Perhaps I'll post my response later. I am fond of my phrasing. What can I say, I am a wordsmith.]
This whole situation put me in a state of rage. And I realized, it's time to go home.
This break can't come quickly enough. I need the time away. To clear my head. To recenter. To remain able to continue liking everyone.
He then sent [it felt more like an attack] me a Facebook message listing points to prove me wrong in my comment. [Which I find a bit funny, considering I made no argument against his post in my comment.]
I was going to counter that message here, but then I realized: I am not Michael Stephanic, and I am not Clark, and I see no reason to "kick some ass" in arguments. It's just not who I am.
I make my position known in sharp statements, and move on. [Perhaps I'll post my response later. I am fond of my phrasing. What can I say, I am a wordsmith.]
This whole situation put me in a state of rage. And I realized, it's time to go home.
This break can't come quickly enough. I need the time away. To clear my head. To recenter. To remain able to continue liking everyone.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
At Danny's prompting . . .
Danny Roberts, whom you're all aware I adore [I haven't forgotten about that print, children. March 3. It's coming.] made a request quite a few posts back [I spent the afternoon catching up. I'm a slacker.] that his fans post two images that remind them of their own view of what love is.
I am deviating a bit, and posting one of what love should be, and one of what it shouldn't.
[JFK Memorial, Dallas, TX.]
[DART Transit, Dallas, TX. Pictured: Matthew McGrath]
I am deviating a bit, and posting one of what love should be, and one of what it shouldn't.
[JFK Memorial, Dallas, TX.]
[DART Transit, Dallas, TX. Pictured: Matthew McGrath]
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Stick that in your industrial military complex pipe and smoke it, G Dub. Or shove it up your ass. Your choice.
I take a quick study break to bring you this breaking news report:
My brother is coming home from tour numero two very soon. [First tour extended by six months + second tour after saying he wouldn't have to go back = angry Danielle.]
Some of you may remember that last year I was accused of not supporting our troops after making a harmless joke in the beloved [and greatly missed] Big 10 of the Echo.
Turns out this unpatriotic bitch has a brother in the armed forces. [And a Marine at that. Even though he works for everything I stand against, at least he's on the team that kicks the most ass.] [Suck on that, you twat. Yeah, I am still a little bitter about those comments, you ignorant hate-monger.]
At any rate, last month he watched [yes, as in saw first hand, maybe even got splattered a bit] one of the men he was stationed with get his head blown off. And his best friend was sent home last week without a leg. [I believe that means he gets a Purple Heart. I don't think medals are nearly as rad as legs. They may be shiny, but they can't wrap around another body in the shower. I'm just saying . . .]
[(First tour extended by six months + second tour after saying he wouldn't have to go back) X injured friend] ^ dead friend = George W. and all of his toadies are assholes.
[That's math, bitches.]
As far as I know Sean is uninjured. He's currently in Germany. [Yay beer! And Lederhosen! And beer!] Soon he will be in California to debrief. And then . . . . . . home to Houston on December 19th!! [That's our brother Jason's birthday, which makes the return even better.]
So happy. You can't imagine.
If it weren't for a Bib Interp test tomorrow, I'd be running around screaming and smiling like a nutter.
My brother is coming home from tour numero two very soon. [First tour extended by six months + second tour after saying he wouldn't have to go back = angry Danielle.]
Some of you may remember that last year I was accused of not supporting our troops after making a harmless joke in the beloved [and greatly missed] Big 10 of the Echo.
Turns out this unpatriotic bitch has a brother in the armed forces. [And a Marine at that. Even though he works for everything I stand against, at least he's on the team that kicks the most ass.] [Suck on that, you twat. Yeah, I am still a little bitter about those comments, you ignorant hate-monger.]
At any rate, last month he watched [yes, as in saw first hand, maybe even got splattered a bit] one of the men he was stationed with get his head blown off. And his best friend was sent home last week without a leg. [I believe that means he gets a Purple Heart. I don't think medals are nearly as rad as legs. They may be shiny, but they can't wrap around another body in the shower. I'm just saying . . .]
[(First tour extended by six months + second tour after saying he wouldn't have to go back) X injured friend] ^ dead friend = George W. and all of his toadies are assholes.
[That's math, bitches.]
As far as I know Sean is uninjured. He's currently in Germany. [Yay beer! And Lederhosen! And beer!] Soon he will be in California to debrief. And then . . . . . . home to Houston on December 19th!! [That's our brother Jason's birthday, which makes the return even better.]
So happy. You can't imagine.
If it weren't for a Bib Interp test tomorrow, I'd be running around screaming and smiling like a nutter.
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