Going home...kinda?

So I am in McCarran Airport.
Just sitting in my corner of Gate D29, incidentally the only corner with an outlet. There's my electric scoping skills for you. 10 points for me.

I have Angus (my laptop) plugged in and charging, and my phone, plugged in and charging..wait hold on...I have yet to name my new phone. This is disturbing to anyone who knows me, I always without a doubt name all my electronics.
Anyone have any suggestions? It's a TMobile MDA, huge and silver.

AHHHHHH!! Some mother figure just parked her apparently illegitimate bastard of a little girl in front of me....slobber, dysentery, infections and all!
How grotesque. This is why I am not Catholic. I believe in birth control at all costs. Condoms, pills, injections...hysterectomies....anything necessary!

Now I move on to the "bee-debeep-doop-lalalal" of the frickin' plague of slot machines. How annoying. they are everywhere here. It's truley an epidemic....damn penny slots.

Perhaps it's time for Asa (my IPod) to save the day. *rummages in WAY to large carry-on*

Ahh, that's better, some nice music to calm me.

I have been thinking...why do I carry such a large purse? and why is it never big enough? I figure most of the reason is that I am almost prepared for just about ANYTHING. Example: I was in Hollister last week with a friend of mine. As she was trying on clothes, an overly jovial sales associate came over and asked if I had hair gel of some sort. I, in fact, had 3 types of gel/hairspray, bobby pins, brush, comb and elastic band. Shocked, she accepted the aerosol hair spray, and a bobby pin. Is it my goal in life to be prepared for everyone who can't be prepared for themselves?

In retrospect I remember a comic my dear friend Sally and I used to chuckle about when I travelled every five minutes when I live with her. I think it was from the strip "Pearls Before Swine", or something to that effect, and I believe the creature was a rat. So rat was travelling and he decided that it as ridiculous that the Airport Security would not allow him to carry-on his "Baggie of Goo". When I emptied my massive purse out, I realized if I removed all liquids, goos and gels....my purse is actually a bearable weight. I feel extremely unprepared though. So everyone, stranger, friend or family, must fend for themselves today. Sorry all.

As I sit in my corner listening to the Beach Boys, I realize my sacrum is in excruciating pain from the heinously patterned, thin airport uniform carpet. *Scooooch, re-adjust, shuffle....sigh*

Ohk. That's better. I wish I could just get this over with. Blarggggh.
Angus is being highly temperamental. Refusing to charge and such.

Oh dear lord. We have found our Las Vegas couple of the year. Looks like they stayed at the financial distaster that is the Hooters Hotel, only assuming that they bought all of the uniform garb they're donning proudly. Ignorant tourists.

And off to my 2 o' clock, is the coolest Russian dudes...ever. Business types...expensive suits...European sneaker things. How cute. The oldest being very well dressed for his age. Ostrich skin shoes, and Armani....wow. They're suitcases...Halliburton of course. Great huge titainium things, very elite, very attractive. Woo. A Russian passport....how very exciting.

I should leave the Russians alone. =]

Oh the Hooterific couple is yelling. Apparently Hooter's does a free Champagne breakfast...yum....mimosas.

I don't think I have anything else to say, and this is far too long. Hope you enjoyed.

I want in on the penny games!

Okay, so as part of my job at the library, I've been processing books from the juvenile collection.

In amongst the books to help children cope with various traumas -- dead pets, dead parents, naughty touching, bullying, step-families, et cetera -- was a charming little book titled “Alice Doesn’t Babysit Anymore”. Being curious I thought “why the hell doesn’t Alice babysit anymore?” I thought perhaps Alice had died and this book was meant to help the children cope with death. Or maybe Alice caught a venereal disease and is now a lesson in social hygiene. In any case, Alice’s reason for ditching the babysitting gig was some thing I never would have guessed:

Alice is a perverted sexual deviant.

You see, Alice likes to play “secret touching games” with her young charges. First, and most disturbingly, she pulls out handfuls of bright, shiny pennies and drops them into the kid’s underwear and she makes the fondle each other in search of pennies. They get prizes for finding the pennies, though the book doesn’t say what the prizes are. Then Alice puts pennies in her own pants and makes the children fondle her. Alice also convinces the children that if the adults hear of the special penny game, they’ll take the prizes and the pennies. Apparently the kiddies are dumb enough to believe that.

Hey, I want in on the penny games!

Alice also brings out a trunk full of dress up clothes and accessories and she watches the children play dress up. Then she puts them in various positions in front of a mirror and ogles them. Going by the book, the positions include standing on one’s head, standing with hands on hips, and raising one’s arms in the air whilst holding a scarf.

Kinky.

Then Alice lets them go outside and play in the mud -- which their parents never let them do because they’re assholes -- and then they have to get all clean before mummy and daddy come home. Oh, goody. So, yeah there’s more touching in the tub. Alice makes the kids touch themselves and each other and then she gets in the bath and makes them touch her. And the kids don’t get too upset because apparently, their parents are such assholes that they almost never get to have bubble baths. Which, sucks for you kids.

So this whole perverted and disturbing drama is resolved when Alice breaks her leg whilst riding her horse (and my own sick mind wonders exactly how she was ‘riding’ this horse and if that’s all she did to it. Do horses like bubble baths?) and the kiddies get a new babysitter -- a kindly old woman named Betty (“And she made them pot brownies” said my father). Betty was disturbed when she had to give the children a bath and they kept humping each other, so she talked to them and they told her about the “secret touching games” and she told the parents, who told the cops, who sent a social worker round to Alice’s. And now Alice is in juvie. No, no, I kid, I don’t know what happened to Alice. They would have you think that the frumpy social worker had a talk with her and made her cry and see the error of her kinky ways and that was it.

So, yeah, Alice doesn't babysit anymore.

I'm still fairly disturbed by the penny games. I, and now most of my friends, can never look at pennies again. At least, not in a non-perverted way.

Thanks a lot, Alice. Perv.

In which I am a horrible, terrible, dirty-minded person

So tonight I drove down to Blockbuster and I forgot to bring my iPod, so I was forced (FORCED!) to listen to the radio, but because I hate radio stations that involve 1. lots of talking, 2. commercials, 3. country western, 4. religion, 5. Christmas, or 6. genres of music I avoid like the plague, I'm limited to one of two stations, depending on what's playing at the moment or listening to every station for all of about 5 seconds. The latter is usually more entertaining and less frustrating.

What is the point of me telling you this? Well, I was flipping through the stations and on one of the religious stations Some Guy was telling The Story of Christmas and How Jesus Was Born and he was to the part where the Angel of the Lord was telling Mary that she was going to give birth and she was all "How can I give birth what with being a virgin and all?" And then the most awesome thing happened.

See, about 2 seconds after I realized that Some Guy was telling The Story of Christmas and How Jesus Was Born, I hit the 'seek' button, but there's a delay when you use the button on the steering wheel. Well Some Guy kept telling The Story of Christmas, but he got cut off at the most perfect part, because, you see, Some Guy said:

"The angel said, 'The spirit will come on you!'"

And my brain fell into the gutter. And I laughed hysterically for minutes.

The good news is, Mary's still a virgin. The bad news is that she's pregnant and has gonorrhea. IN HER EYE!

I know, I know. I'm a terrible, horrible, dirty-minded person for immediately leaping from "The angel said, 'The spirit will come on you!'" to bukkake, but you have to admit, it is pretty funny.

And let's face it, I 'm surrounded by terrible, horrible, dirty-minded people. At the library staff Christmas party yesterday, topics of discussion included furries, what a furry is, and furry conventions. Then, after a bunch of us had our pictures taken with horrible, disturbing hairy creepy-doll-faced kleenex box covers (seriously, don't ask) there was an involved discussion of zombies, killing zombies, levitating zombies, and strapping a chain-saw to one's arm (which is basically my plan for when I become a zombie. How I was going to force the zombie infection from the creepy doll faced kleenex box cover into only my hand was not included in my cunning plan to become Ash from "Army of Darkness").

And really the only thing I have to say after that is the people who made Planet Unicorn are either on drugs or geniuses. Seriously, check it out:

Planet Unicorn Episodes

Old Witchcraft Secrets - make your wildest dreams come true!

Okay, so this does not happen very often any more, because I am so jaded and so on regarding all things computer (Jewish personals? That's so last week!), but today I got a spam e-mail with a subject line that had me cackling for minutes. And so I must share with you the e-mail in it's entirety:

Re: Glass Sex Toys are an Acceptable Gift for any Occasion
"In theory, our voice boxes would become non functional in a few shall not remain supperless; and he made a meal of him.
Areas of our lives that are considered sacred and should be leaves his house at 7:40 every morning to make the commute"

And when the message downloaded (I know! I don't usually!) it was actually and ad for hand blown (hee hee!!!) glass dildos. The funny thing is that in the ad they actually try to sell it to you as an Art Object as well as a sex toy. As if you're going to be so impressed with the artistry that after you played with it, you'll just rinse it off and display it on the mantle or something.

Later, I got another spam that cracks me up to no end. This time, it's not the idea, but the acctual message that's so silly. See for yourself:

"Old Witchcraft Secrets - make your wildest dreams come true

It's NOT your fault that your spells and rituals aren't turning out like you want... YET.

The truth is... you've been misled by self-proclaimed powerful wizards and witches...
and the truth is that 99% of these 'professionals' are DEAD WRONG!

In fact, a lot of what they say will actually diminish your powers.

They don't want you to know the right way to cast spells because if you did, you'd never need
them again and they would lose their power!

You cannot invent 'new' spells like you cannot invent a new tree. Everything is old. But
not everything is known in the right way.

Get 3 Spells just for visiting our site!

As you know, many witches and wizards are FURIOUS about this. Why?

Because it reveals the true forgotten secrets of witchcraft. Secrets more powerful than what they
can do through their very expensive services...

Soon, everybody will be able to do this at home,
more effectively, cheaper and faster....

You've seen some ridiculous prices on the internet for
getting a spell done. It's obvious they are
getting rich off of normal people and their problems...

Once you know their secrets, you won't need to give them your money!

I've personally tested this information, and some of the
old forgotten stuff is mind blowing: it's accurate, effective
and quite easy to do.


So, yeah. And the "company" that is message came from? Is in Austria.

When I first started reading the message, I thought of all kinds of funny things to say, but they'd all fallen out of my head by the time I finished.

And, I'm going to leave it at that. I've got nothing.

~ SCJ

Why do people die?

WARNING: This is a rant, as told to Nikk Perry. If you are offended by crude and crass comments about male copulation then, stop here, if you are okay with that but find yourself less then amused by freak accidents involving animals, stop here, and if you just suck at life and find anything, even the a fore mentioned, offensive, then take the stick out of your ass, lighten up and piss off. Oh and if profane language pisses you off, then get over it, and fuck off.

Knowing my luck, it would happen to me. Everyone is going camping. Oh joyous rapture I will be able to talk to you uninterrupted. But then again, knowing my luck something would happen. Midway through our conversation Mike will call and say something like the Campground blew up. Sounds ludicrous, but it could happen. Here's how:



-Little Jimmy had the gas door whatsit flap apparatus open to siphon gas from the 6 ton recreational vehicle into his little off-road-daddy-felt-he-needed-to-buy-junior-a-real-toy-and-teach-him-the-
ways-of-the-independent-male-although-he's-five-dirt-bike and like a douche, he learned from his father, left it open as he rode away. Meanwhile, mummy dearest is in the kitchen part of the RV making honey pie, gramma's recipe. She leaves it on the counter whilst going to check on little Jimmy because he has now screamed in agony form his unnecessary toy apparatus falling over on top of him. Pussy. Anyway, a bear and his brother that has escaped from a testing facility and are now sporting super human strength. They smell this honey pie, gramma's recipe, and try to reach in through the open window but due to their massive bear bi-ceps they can barely fit it in. One of them continues to push and push and push rocking the RV. Then a mountain lion crawls under the RV and lays there in the shade. The alligator sticks his nose underneath the RV and opens is jaws, the mountain lion gets scared and stands up the bears get fed up and give a BIG push. The RV tips over onto the campfire and the open gas tank leaks out. It catches the fire and a few seconds that only chemistry can explain go by and

KABOOM!

Everybody is fucking dead.-

This is when Jon and Mike pull up to the campground, it's like fucking ground zero, firetrucks ambulances, an array of emergency personnel. That's when Mike calls, " Dude, the campground blew up, can we come camp at your house?"
They later show up and decide to slather themselves in mayonnaise and stick live gold fish to their chests and spoon on the couch, while a random stranger walks in the door you stab him and now he's fuck bleeding on the Berber carpet. While you stand there like a fucking fuck bucket with the knife in your hand staring and his bleeding orifices. Mike and Jon are still spooning while the goldfish are suffocating in the mayo, flapping their appendages and blubbing their little hearts out. This is when you slather yourself in mayo and affix a goldfish you your own chest and and proceed to the couch to join the fun. Scott walks through the door and you stop in your tracks as some of his friends come through the door call struggling to carry this colossal 9 foot bong apparatus. They fill the entire house with smoke and everyone gets fucking wasted, while drinking all of your mum's liquor. THE GOLDFISH ARE DEAD. How do you feel now, eh? So Scott and his cronies leave take their monstrosity with them and you decide to take a shower, Mike and Jon still spooning. When you come downstairs you can't help but be washed over with awesomeness. Annie has arrives bringing her awesome aura of awesomeness. FUCKING AWESOME. She finds this shindig to be below her utter awesomeness and leaves in a huff of awesomeness. You then look at the clock and realize it's 4 in the morning, and you haven't even called me yet. I haven't even been thought of.

JUST MY LUCK THE NIGHT WE CAN TALK, THIS SHIT WOULD HAPPEN.


-CKR

What a Day.

It was going to be an interesting day. The aura was in the air.
So my dad's huge SUV type gas guzzler needed new tires.
So off to the repair shop we go.
Next door is a restaurant, so we decided to get something to eat due to our lack of transport apparatus. We ordered a plate of nacho from an overly friendly middle-aged waitress. She brought them out smiling , " I dunno if yous is gunna was more food after this." Despite her lack of speaking skills she sure was observant. This plate of Nachos was HUGE. A serving platter piled a foot high, no joke. We finally got through them and decided to order something light as the main course. Dad got a sandwich and I got some sort of shrimp frames. Then as we were eating the waitress came out with this little Dirt Devil vaccuum thing, but it was electric. As she pushed it along she talked to the entire room as if doing an info-mercial about the benefits of a SHARK. She went on and on and on. Then She finally said, " I just love this thing, but maybe I am getting carried away." She pushed it back into it;s corner and looked longingly into it's shinyness. She then went back into the kitchen and disappeared for a long time and couldn't be found when we needed to go. Finally we got her, paid and left, as we were leaving she yelled, "IF YOU THINK THE NACHOS WERE BIG, TRY THE OPEN FACE TURKEY SANDWICH!!"

Throughly disturbed we went to pick up Mum from work and we were early so we decided to have a look around. We found a Dairy Queen, they are so rare these days you can't help but to stop. We pulled up to the menu at the drive thru and it seemed dead. We inched forward and a booming voice, " CAN I TAKE YOUR ORDER!"
So we ordered our one medium Chocolate Malt, one Large Choc. Banana Strawberry shake, and one medium cookie dough blizzard. So after we we told to pull around we sat for about 7 minutes waiting. He came out with the shake and closed the window and disappeared for another 5 minutes. Re-appears with a blizzard, closes the window and is gone for about 8 more minutes, hands us the malt, closes the window, opens the window hands us straws and VERY intensely says, " YOU HAVE A NICE DAY NOW." My father and i agreed that we would in fear he would find us and set his Jesus lizard on us.

Needless to say that was the most invigorating DQ experience I'VE ever had.

-CKR

Dance, Dance.

So last night, for 5 hours...I was a girl. A real one so to speak, Sally and I have determined that just because one has 'girl parts' does not mean one is a girl entirely.

The day started off fairly normal. I had Tierene over from the Game Party the previous night, which, might I add was invigoratingly orgasmic. As I believe my comrade, Sally will agree.

So yes, as we were. I went to some peace thingy-watsit at City High. Rather boring and unfufilling. So we made a swift escape from that only to return Tierene to her rightful spot and find ourselves at a quilt store. Myself and The Guardian decided to detour to a pet supply store. I spent the majority of our visit looking at all the recent innovations of Equine Goodness. I miss my horse now! Meh.

Making our way home I realized. OH GEE WILIKARS! I have to go to a dance tonight! The hell set upon me as I realized the slightest clue was not mine.
I figured, what does a 'girl' do to get ready for an event such as this?
Make-up was the first thing that came to mind.

I fetched my partner in crime, Sally and we headed off to Heaven [CVS to those who are daft]. Now you see, to us CVS hold nothing but glorious products and hours of learning. Little did we know that when we were to enter through the automatic door, sleek innovative theft detectors, that our CVS experience would never be the same.

How hard can it be, I asked Sally. Feeling confident with my knowledge of my prior interweb research. I figured it would be one product, one cheap and easy price. I knew I had to find Concealer, Foundation and Powder. So I looked at Sally and asked, Where to begin as I saw the numerous aisles of facial destruction. Every brand had about 100 gazillion choices...all equal to 100 gazillion in price! I felt that nasty discouragement try to flood me. I saw hope...maybe. So I let it pass, while holding Sal's hand.

We picked up different things not sure what to make of it, this process continued for about fourty minutes of "Ohhh.....eeeeee.. ewwwy...The hell?" Finally when defeat was close at hand I reached out to one of Heaven's angels and asked her to assist us. She spoke wisdom of shades lighter and winter-time. All gibberish, but the very breakthrough to our dilemma.

So in a saving grace, Sally found it all in one product, and at a price that did not make me cringe and make the squirrel face. Way to go Sallllllly! I pick up a few items, eye-liner[my area of expertise] and some acrylic nails to add the whole look, might as well dive right in!

As we left and returned the the mothership, Susan, our fearless leader, reminded me I had an hour to get ready, panic and adreianline set in. I ran upstairs and began my process not taking anytime to savour the hot water as I usually do. Later joined my Sally and her occasional sarcastic comment as I asked rhetorical questions about 'girldom' and its purposes.

Finally it seemed hours had passed, but truely only 45 minutes had. Of course, being parental units and all, pictures had to be taken. I posed as best i could in my devil heels. I did not fall, but the threat was constant.

My carriage arrived and my fellow high-schoolers filed out to greet me. As I, they are never polished or refined. This very evening I was baffled, as I believe they were too. We set off on our journey and picked up my escort. After a stop at an ATM and a Emergency vehicle stampede to the Amway Grand, we were to eat.
We got there and started laughing the minute we entered until the minute we left, which had about 2 1/2 hour span.

On our way to the dance we bought batteries, oh hoorah.

Once at the dance we were one of the few groups there. Though, people started filing in. THe dance went on pretty uneventful with an occasional 'boogie-down' from my escort. It was fun and the reactions from my class-mates were priceless. They seem to think that i can't be a 'girl'. I guess I showed them. Stupid underestimaters. I had skills. I can be anything, they just don't know me.

My carriage brought me back to my humble abode. I could not feel my lower appendages, much less remove them from the hell that bore them all night.

Upstairs, I figured, meh, I look good. Might as well take some pictures? At least I am good at that. As you can see from my After Dance Boredom Album.

So that was my night. Eventfull and somewhat personally fufilling.


But remember you can't make a girl be a 'girl', but one can try.


-CKR