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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


2002-08-16 ... 4:25 p.m.

WORDS AND DEATH

Consider carefully the suicide note.

JUST WORDS, HOLD THE DEATH

When I watch you do the cha-cha to the beat of the tam-tam, I get so gaga that I have to swallow kava kava. Want to go out for couscous?

I think peeweep, a type of bird, is my new favorite palindrome.

Remember when I was into the pangrams? Here's some alcohol-themed pangrams I like.

1. "Quit beer," vows dizzy, puking, Michael J. Fox.

2. Barkeep! A flaming tequila swizzle and a vodka and Ajax, hold the cherry.

3. Doxy with charming buzz quaffs vodka julep.

4. Five wine experts jokingly quizzed chablis sample.

5. Six plump boys guzzled cheap raw vodka quite joyfully.

6. Wavy Jake's fat zebra had Mexican pig liquor.

And these are just plain cool.

1. How jolly vexing a fumble to drop zucchini in the quicksand!

2. Prodigal lesbians from Venezuela know just exactly how to eat quiche.

3. The sex life of the woodchuck is a provocative question for most vertebrate zoology majors.

4. Wham! Volcano erupts fiery liquid death onto ex-jazzbo Kenny G.

5. You go tell that vapid existentialist quack Freddy Nietzsche that he can just bite me, twice.

You should read the very plausible cat weblog.

I feel like crap today. Yes, there was beer last night but this is a whole different set of symptoms than the usual after-beer crappy feelings. I am pale and sickly and nauseous and full of phlegm. (Believe me, it's just as attractive as it sounds. I'm beating them off with a stick today.) My condition was not improved by the fact that I had to go to the doctor today for a physical.

VARIOUS MEDICAL THOUGHTS

*Those paper gowns are horrible. And baffling. I turned the stupid thing this way and that, and accidentally ended up ripping it some in my efforts to unfold it. So I had a punk rock paper gown. I really would rather just sit there naked, honestly, than feel like a total idiot draped in a large piece of crackly paper.

*They left me in the exam room too long by myself, so I got bored and stole some tongue depressors. I also took a pamphlet about bacterial vaginosis because the cover made me laugh: it spoke of "The #1 vaginal infection." It was a photo finish at the Vaginal Infection World Championships! Bacterial vaginosis beat out candidiasis by a narrow margin! On the exam room wall was a large poster about the spine that made me feel even more pale and sickly. I don't like vertebrae. I couldn't look at it.

*I found out that I have been consistently overestimating my weight, probably for years. (I don't own a scale, so the doctor is the only time I ever find out the truth.) In my head I am around ten pounds larger than I really am. What can I say, I want to be big.

*After the physical they wanted blood from me. I have barely any veins to speak of (I would make a lousy heroin addict), and the lab technician had to use yards of rubber tubing and slap my arm for about an hour, and even then she still had to stab me three times in each arm. They filled up two large tubes and now I feel all deflated, like a sad beach toy. So I called in a pint low and took the rest of the day off.

*There was also a request made for some of my pee, and I didn't really have to go so I had kind of a scanty little specimen cup. Which triggered an immediate flash of guilt in my brain. Which in turn made me laugh at myself for being such a Type A overachiever that I would feel guilty at not being able to produce a whole lot of urine on demand.

---mimi smartypants pays her own way.

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