I got a Valentine!

I know, that title is a thrill a minute, isn’t it? But still, I’m very excited.

This is the first Valentine I’ve gotten from someone who isn’t a married man this century!

raincoaster's valentine from sulz

sulz over at Bloggerdygook made me my very own, hand-written Valentine, accessorized with a lovely bulldozer! And one notes, one does, that in the first draft, she’d neglected a prime blog-pimping opportunity. No doubt inspired by my example, this oversight was immediately corrected and replaced with the above, blog-pimpatory, improvement.

This is part of the massive Hand-Written Valentine project, whose object frankly puzzles us, for lo, we are far too lazy to do anything of the kind if there’s no free Macbook Air, Urban Fare credit card, or black opal bracelet at the end of it.

I want to send you a handwritten, personalised message! I shall write you a special message on a piece of paper (or not? Hehe), take a photo of it, then upload it to one of my posts during the month of February 2008.

Why would you want a handwritten valentine from me?

1. You can have a look at my handwriting. I think handwriting is something very personal, especially in this age of technology! And my handwriting is not consistent, never the same twice!
2. You can receive a personalised message from me. Just for you. Nobody else. How special is that!
3. It will totally make your day. It has to, otherwise I’d be very upset. (

If you want to put the poor girl to work again, toiling into the wee hours, feverishly pumping out personalized calligraphic meisterwerk after personalized calligraphic meisterwerk, it’s your conscience, not mine. Pop over to Bloggerdygook and leave her a request in the comments section.

I got mine. Now you get yours.

hot links, hot links. what can I say? I never learn

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What time is it? Not Peanut Butter Jelly Time!

That’s for goddam sure.

So. It’s that time again.

Yay, periods are fun!

What do I want? These:

Meat. Mmmmmm, meat!

Meat is murder

Bochox

Coffee, the OTHER Vitamin C

Viiiiiiiiggooooooo

Prada Sandals

What do I got?

  • dried pasta
  • a bag of chop suey vegetables
  • a half a container of 2% yogurt
  • a small tub of baby greens that was going off
  • a lemon and a half
  • one head of garlic
  • a jar of Ragu tomato sauce
  • coffee
  • twenty-five packets of artificial sweetener
  • a VHS tape of Walk on the Moon
  • a pair of seven year old Hi Tec trail runners.

It’s going to be a loooooong weekend.

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Lucy Liu attacked!

Lucy Liu attacked by a school of horny cuttlefish!

Lucy Liu and the Horny Cuttlefish of Doom

It gets worse.

Lucy Liu and the Horny Cuttlefish of Doom, back attack

Yes, showbusiness is a sordid, gilded ghetto. Behind the flashbulbs and the awards, behind the makeup and the costumes, lies an ugly truth.

The Casting Aquarium.

Even Lucy Liu, the lovely and talented star of the Charlie’s Angels chick action flicks, cannot escape its greedy clutches. Smiling bravely for the paparazzi despite the slimy embrace of a school of hormone-crazed cuttlefish, she personifies what must be suffered in silence inthe unspoken struggle for stardom.

In what used to be known as a “Faustian Bargain” and is now called “a personal contract with Harvey,” comely starlets are subjecting themselves to the embrace of repellent, corpulent invertebrates from under the sea. As for what their agents can do about it…why don’t you ask this young woman:

Why is this file entitled Dating?

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