Monday, March 26, 2007

The Mamir

the Admiral now.
Ask him how much time I have left.
When is the the one who will be helped the most by your understanding of this And you feel no compassion for them?
Doomed by an accident of birth or boiled.
You must remember . . . tired eyes, I followed the others.
Outdoors into a field of ripening silently as the voice-over spoke.
and I shuffled out and followed him at a discreet distance.
Clanking needed.
This did not make me feel much better.
join the other three already up.
Made for some interesting shadows.
A minute break every hour, keep walking until sunset.
very much like I felt.
He eased himself into the chair opposite me.
I All over.
object of your attentions is quite clear.
I can promise you that while off the suit-and a lot of flesh with it.
The suit was padded.
He was ominously-then crashed out Admiral Bonbons voice. .. fans?
Not wise, our host said.
There was a clank-clank close behind me


It seems like bad spoken word poetry doesn't it? In truth, just a spam email I got titled 'the mamir' since it cracked me up, I decided to share it. I din't edit this at all, this is exactly how I got it. And if you're dying to know the author it came from an email address registered to Muhsin Schulz, who is trying to sell me viagra, valium, cialis, ambien, soma, and xanax. You are a beat poet Mr. Muhsin Schulz, rock on.

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Thursday, March 22, 2007

Dreams are lame.

Last night I dreamed I was at the church I went to as a kid. For some reason you had to take your shoes off which strikes me as strange for your typical Lutheran establishment. Then I lost my purse and RTK got all mad at me for losing it. I kept saying, "I don't think I even brought it in!" but I had because I managed to find all the stuff that was in it. I never did find the purse itself though.

So then my mother points out that I'm walking funny and decides it's because I've grabbed the wrong shoes. Sure enough, I'm wearing two different shoes, neither of which are mine. Like I'd wear white patent leather Mary Janes? Oh hell no. It begs the question, how did I ever mistake them for mine in the first place? I haven't owned a pair of white shoes since my sister's wedding and I wasn't happy about it then. Those suckers went right in the trash as soon as I got home. I hate white shoes. Anyway, one of them is a platform shoe and the other isn't so I'm limping like an idiot and I can't find my real shoes. So now I'm completely sans accessories, limping around like a jackass and Mom wants to go to brunch with the old church ladies.

Finally I gave up and left the shoes, put all my stuff in my pockets since I had no purse, and I notice there's a dandelion growing out of my face. At this point I was so annoyed I woke up.

Dreams are lame.

Wednesday, March 21, 2007

Big Love is warping my brain.

I'm totally hooked on HBO's Big Love. Edina has the first season on DVD and I've been watching it incessantly. I've now seen the whole first season at least three times and damn it if it isn't all I can think about. Every conversation I have seems to suddenly veer left into polygamy and then just hang out there ad nauseum.

I think I've alienated or otherwise weirded out all my friends. I think everyone was much more comfortable when I'd hijack the conversation with my fear of the zombie uprising.

Also, I've seen enough of Bill Paxton's ass for this lifetime.

I could go on but I have a feeling I shouldn't. I only have the two readers as it is...

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Tuesday, March 20, 2007

Socks for a pirate

I finished Red Todd Kidd's socks. Twenty days ago. I'm totally lagging on the FO posting. I was mortified to discover that I was going to run out of the main color before completing the second sock but since my LYS was out of it and RTK didn't care I just finished it off with the grey. It makes me crazy but no one else cares so why should I? But I do care. Jebus help me, I care. I want that sock to match the first one and it galls me that it doesn't. Especially after having to rip out the tops with all the beautiful braiding and replace it with regular boring ribbing. Which is one of the reasons that I ran out of the MC yarn.

Anywhoo...

Pattern: St. Peter Port Stripes Socks from Folk Socks by Nancy Bush.

Yarn: Brown Sheep Company's "Wildfoote Luxury Sock Yarn" in Zane Grey (MC), Black Orchid (CC1), and Gunsmoke (CC2).

Needles: Takumi Clover size 1 DPNs (went up a size from the pattern to make a larger sock).

Adjustments: Well, I did the beautiful braid work at the top but couldn't get it loose enough to go ver RTK's foot so I had to tear it out and put some plain ribbing up there. Also I ran out of yarn, as I mentioned before, so if I did this again I'd get two balls of the MC.

What I hated: I wasn't crazy about carrying the colors up the back of the work, I think I'd ratehr weave in ends to prevent puckering. I also loathed the heel on these things. I'm not a fan of grafting so doing it once at the heel and again at the toe just made me mad. The heel for these is just show-offy and I don't like it. A standard heel is good enough for me plus, no seam under the foot that way.

What I loved: RTK likes them and has worn them several times, that makes me very happy. I do really like the yarn, many people find it splitty and I agree that the tweeded MC is, it also twists back on itself some which is annoying BUT I loved it anyway. Well worth it.

And that's what I did on my summer vacation. Whoa, De ja vu.

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Sunday, March 18, 2007

Not Irish

I'm not Irish. Not even a little bit. Nope. So of course last night I went out to celebrate St, Patrick's Day with the horde of other non-Irish people who use it as an excuse to drink copious amounts of all manner of booze and throw up in their friend's cars/lawns/beds etc. I didn't see a single person throw up this year so I consider it a majorly successful evening. I also remember most of the stuff that happened so another success right there. Of course I was dead to the world until well after 9am today but the kids didn't complain too much about their late breakfasts.

Anyway, every two days after the ides of March one of my oldest friends both literally and chronologically, in fact for the blog here we'll call him Methuselah, throws a party to celebrate his drunken heritage. He happens to be Irish but he also happens to be a drunkard and that second thing is what he's celebrating before you get your hackles up and get all pissy about Irish bashing or some such (and by the way, Methuselah's little brother The Cowardly Lion also just as Irish and somehow never as drunk, I'm just saying). I see I've lost my point, has anyone seen it anywhere? I seriously doubt it but hell, it never hurts to ask. Oh yeah, Methuselah threw a party as he is wont to do.

Methuselah's parties are generally the most random I've ever been to. You never know who you'll run into from what phase of your life. Sometimes that's cool but more often than not it's incredibly awkward. Occasionally it leads to Lucky Champagne having a throw down while Napoleon and I scream insults at people. I gotta tell you, that's some role reversal, Lucky is much more an insulter and Napoleon and I are not shy with the face punching.

Moderately amusing aside, the throw down mentioned above took place for a number of reasons which mostly involved some idiot punching Lucky in the stomach for no real reason but also because Napoleon decided that some other idiot wasn't allowed to talk to or about me in the particularly insulting manner in which he had been. I find that funny because the last time I got into a fight it was partly because some bitchy girl was talking about Napoleon in a similar manner (also I punched her boyfriend for grabbing my ass and she was pissed about it, you know, like you do). See, this is why none of you six or seven readers would really want to know me in the real world, clearly I don't abide there.

The more I blog about my life instead of my knitting the more charming I sound, right?

So last night Red Todd Kidd, Lucky, Kaylee, Edina and I all head out into the unkown of Methuselah's place. I'm happy to report there was no fighting not screaming of insults and we all had a pretty good time. But then again, I haven't heard from anyone yet today and it's entirely possible that my version of events has nothing to do with reality, it wouldn't be the first time.

I bet you're wondering what the hell this post is about and what it has to do with anything. Sadly, there is no point. I was just posting because I had a few minutes and it's been awhile and also if I ramble about this I won't have to dig out the pictures of RTK's socks I've been meaning to post for hella days. I hate loading pictures.

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