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the latest waddle:

good morning, wordpress - 10:36 a.m. , 2009-07-03

elaborate murder attempt - 2:56 p.m. , 2009-07-01

building a tractor in the basement - 10:42 a.m. , 2009-06-19

ask no questions tell just a few lies - 3:17 p.m. , 2009-06-09

my long lasting flavor really lasts long - 1:10 p.m. , 2009-06-04

2002-03-23 ... 9:51 p.m.



I only like online personality tests if they are about industrial solvents or feminine hygiene products.

You are made from soybean oil, and are used in a wide range of applications, including asphalt release, mastic removal, and hydrocarbon cleaning. You are biodegradable, and your flash point is >300°F, Pensky-Martens closed cup, and >650°F open cup.
Find out what kind of industrial solvent you are

I am a pantyliner. I may not be everyone's best friend but I work well with others and always back them up. I also may have a slight inclination to sad, whiney, sweater-wearing boys with greasy black hair.

Take the What Feminine Protection Product Would You Be? Quiz

Some really big rocks, in France. Also, lewd church carvings. That page contains the phrase "megaphallic glutton," alone worth the price of admission.

Since Google figures heavily in my personal religion (adherents: 1), it is only fitting that I keep up with the Google weblog.

Dig this radio show, daddy-o. It is good to listen to this with beer in hand, late at night while doing stupid geeky computer-based things. I need to get out more.

Sometimes it is so very tiresome to have a body. Today I seem to have a laundry list of corporeal complaints: my neck is horrifyingly creaky and crimped (what I wouldn't give for a jungle gym or some gravity boots right now), my innards feel strange and sluggish (probably too much beer and random processed food eaten on the fly late at night), and my forehead decided it was entirely too smooth and untroubled and so developed a zit; not to be outdone, my very competitive chin responded in kind. Wouldn't it be better not to have a body? Just to be a brain in a large Plexiglass box? That might make sex awkward, but something could be rigged up between two (or more: hey, I'm open) brains with cables and sensors etc in the pleasure centers. Sort of like Firewire for orgasms.

See, I told you I'm not into having a body today, goofy little kid's digital camera or no. Talk to the hand.

Such bad posture, in this task chair!

The camera is fun. But having a picture of myself here, even a silly one like this, is a slippery slope. Next thing you know I'll be one of those despicable cam girls, taking off my shirt in front of the whole sad and lonely internet.

Did you know that there is a bear in my freezer?

Freezer Bear has lived in many freezers. I don't remember exactly why he went in the freezer: in the first apartment that LT and I had together, there was this bear, and then one of us put him in the freezer. When we moved to a new place, we put him in that freezer. And so on. When we moved to Bahrain, my mother kept Freezer Bear in her freezer. Freezer Bear is a gentle friendly frozen presence, and I like to say "Hey Freezer Bear, what's up?" when I get something out of the freezer. He presides over the making of ice and keeps an eye on all things frozen. Benevolent Freezer Bear!

---mimi smartypants has burned all her notebooks. What good are notebooks?


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