Jason and a whole crew of friends are in Vegas this weekend celebrating an upcoming wedding, and I decided that our relationship is significant enough to require some communcation about the expectations of his behavior. It could go without saying, but I’d rather be explicit about these things.
Don’t kill any hookers.
Gotta lay down the ground rules, or they start walking all over you.
Spanks to the Stephanie for the sweet Goodwill hunting tee, and the Heavy Metal Librarian for the hot pic.
I found the most amazing artist (via Drawn) who created an image of the Damen stop of the blue line (in Chicago) using Illustrator and Photoshop. Truly ill.
Artist’s rendering:
Actual Damen stop:
This was like a bazillion years ago, but I haven’t blogged in so long, I kind of forget how it goes.
So here’s today’s thingie: Straight-A Student Pulled From Class Over Hair Color: School Forbids ‘Distracting’ Hairstyles (There’s a picture.)
She’s this totally cute, smartie girl who can’t have red highlights. I took this as a personal affont. What could possibly be next? Visual distraction is fun. That’s what I say. More fun than stupid boys in my class ripping farts every five minutes in Mr. Ketelsen’s eight grade english class.
Iiiiii mean, ahem, perhaps they should think about what’s distracting and what’s not. *Grumble* Just because it’s a natural function does not make you free to create the loudest possible farts. It was an epidemic during junior high. How did they do that even? I spent all my time learning how to make them silent. (Another superpower.)
play.
This was like a bazillion years ago, but I haven’t blogged in so long, I kind of forget how it goes.
So here’s today’s thingie: Straight-A Student Pulled From Class Over Hair Color: School Forbids ‘Distracting’ Hairstyles (There’s a picture.)
She’s this totally cute, smartie girl who can’t have red highlights. I took this as a personal affont. What could possibly be next? Visual distraction is fun. That’s what I say. More fun than stupid boys in my class ripping farts every five minutes in Mr. Ketelsen’s eight grade english class.
Iiiiii mean, ahem, perhaps they should think about what’s distracting and what’s not. *Grumble* Just because it’s a natural function does not make you free to create the loudest possible farts. It was an epidemic during junior high. How did they do that even? I spent all my time learning how to make them silent. (Another superpower.)
Q: How do fish get from one side of the pond to the other?
A: Carpal tunnel.
*I’m using the patented Invisi-Punchlineâ„¢ technology of The Sneeze.
*I’d like to dedicate this joke to Jake. You don’t hear ME complaining about grad school ailments.
This is Skitty. Skitty evolves into Declatty. FYI. More info and fighting stats here.
Apparently,
Jason feels that this image looks like a pile of body parts. I will refer you to a different picture to gauge the cuteness of Skitty. 
Q: How do fish get from one side of the pond to the other?
A: Carpal tunnel.
*I’m using the patented Invisi-Punchlineâ„¢ technology of The Sneeze.
*I’d like to dedicate this joke to Jake. You don’t hear ME complaining about grad school ailments.
I WANT TO LIVE IN THE CITY MUSEUM.
it’s like this magical place where a bunch of cool dads got together and started free-styling impromptu construction, with the goal in mind of creating the most kick-ass playground/forest/cave/whale/hamster tunnels (which they secretly want to build for themselves), you have the City Museum in St. Louis.
It’s already been blogged about, and blogged about, but I feel the need to shout to the rooftops about this incredible place.
Because as much as it’s learny, it’s a building full of semi-dangerous fun. Which we all know means superfun.
Do you see the castle? Or how far off the ground I am? I feel like Harvy Danger Sleeping Beauty Baby Jesus. (The family hamster.)
It’s not just a giant ant farm, either. We saw a circus (kind of), pet sharks (not kidding!), crafted boxes, had the major concepts of glassblowing related to us by a half-drunk, stoned glassblower, played superold pinball machines (my heart!), crawled through caves that lead to former shoe-chutes (sliiiiide!), and made out underneath a fishtank.
And, while walking through a hallways of weird random stuff, came across Big Boy, who’s presence jolted me into a reverie of childhood brunch with my Grandpa Gasser. Mawwwwww.
Hi. We’ve known each other for long enough that I’m confident that you have a pretty good idea of what I’m like. That being said, I need your help. See, I was getting groceries … actually, I needed a hair dryer, so I went to Target, and I ALWAYS check their clearance rack … and I found this skirt. I wasn’t sure if it fit well, or if it looked good, but I decided to buy it anyway. I figured if I decided against it, I could always return it. (Right, Mom?)
So, this is a $14.99 skirt (originally $30). It’s black, and it has zippers. There’s a lining with tulle (featured in one of the pictures). So does the tulle make it poof out weird? Is it too goth for my perky self? Are zippers passé?
Tulle! If you click on any of these, you can see bigger versions, and several more shots. I know, I know, you really don’t want to spend more time helping me decide about a skirt, but I NEED YOU. The comment board is now open.
Shane B has the most well stocked freezer I’ve ever seen. Kudos to you, old man.
Don’t ask why I was taking secret pictures of Shane’s place while he was gone. Just don’t.
On Sunday, I designed and made a cat toy for Basil’s birthday.
Um, yeah. And you didn’t. That’s all.