Jury Duty

Now I know I just complained to Sarah that I never get jury duty and I want it so bad and I need to fulfill my civic duty but....
I just got picked out for jury duty and I had to decline. You see, I live in what we call the "Mulnomah County", and the buggers who want me to decide some poor shmoe's fate live in the "Washington County". Alas.

Is it sick that everytime I think of "jury duty" I think of the horrible Pauly Shore classic, "Jury Duty"? Yeah, I guess it is.


Plus everytime I try to read "Prime Minister" my inner monologue reads "Prime Rib-ister". Odd.

I know what you're thinking...

3 blog posts in one day? What's going on with this girl?
Maybe I'm just chatty. Gosh.

Just thought I'd tell everyone about the COOLEST website around, and my new best friend, TV Links. You can watch most tv shows from here, and its amazing. Granted, you can't download them, but still...
I need to get a more comfortable computer chair.



You can find it at http://www.tvlinks.voodeedoo.org
Prepare for some serious ass pain and crossed eyes.


UPDATE: I know I'm pretty slow on the uptake, but I just got into the Office and in the past 2 days have watched every episode so far. I love it now. And that was seriously like 12 hours of computer-sitting, but I didn't have anything better to do, so...

"Why are you the way that you are? Honestly, every time I try to do something fun or exciting, you make it not that way. I hate so much about the things that you choose to be." - Michael

Serial Killers are Cool

I'd just like to mention that "Dexter" is my new "favoritest show in the world". If you haven't seen it yet, do so (its on Showtime). So deliciously disturbing. I can honestly say I've never wanted to be best friends with a homicidal maniac before watching this show.
And now I do.

The Zombie Plan

I know what you're thinking.

Halloween is over. Why would someone write a blog about zombies? They should be writing about turkeys or Christmas trees. But no. This is more important. As Nathan Fillion says in the gag reel of "Slither":
"You have to have a zombie plan!"

I couldn't agree more. I've spent much of my life training for the day when the dead will come alive. I do this by pretending that people walking around in the city are zombies, and I construct plans for my survival. You may think I'm crazy. Well, screw you. We'll see who lives through Z-Day.

So, you should all start thinking about what you'll do when the inevitable happens. I'm ready. Are you?

Oh, to be a Towel Boy

Last night James and I went to a Blazers game (which was marvelous, by the way. They were down by over 20 points, then pulled ahead and won by 1 point in the last 5 seconds. Awesome.) and I decided that being a towel boy is hilarious.

These kids are about 14 years old, and they sop up sweat for fun. The funny part is watching them watch the players. They're so focused! You can see their little brains (sorry guys, I must assume there's SOMETHING going wrong in there) trying to anticipate just where, when, and how much sweat will fall. I pity them, really. These guys will probably grow up to be the dudes with the unfortunate job of cleaning up the "Viewing Room" at porn stores. Blech.


On the subjects of "funny" and "sports", I'd like to give a shout out to my favorite funny sport: Curling. Its the best sport around, let alone the best sport to watch during the Winter Olympics. I can't believe I have to wait over 3 years to see it again. This makes me sad.

"KEEP SWEEPING!!!!!!!"

UPDATE: It has recently been brought to my attention that Jon Powell was, in fact, a towel boy in college. I have been assured that he does NOT, however, work for a porn store.
Riiiiggggght.............

Holy Fumigation, Batman!

The apartment was supposed to be gussied up yesterday. You see, when we moved in, the agreement was that the counters, linoleum, and shower would all be redone. Well, the linoluem was done, but the counters (for some reason unbeknownst to me) would cost us an additional $50 a month in rent- justfor them to repaint the top of them. So no counters. And the shower was to be redone on Monday before noon. So we prepare for the shower-men to come. They don't.

They show up today, without warning at 10:00 am (due to James' late night at work, he and I went to sleep at 4:00am, mind you, and both had busy days ahead of us and needed sleep). They need us to leave the apartment, and I have NO time to brush my teeth, put on makeup, or even go to the bathroom. So I go to work looking and smelling truly wonderful, I'm sure.

We were told that there would be fumes, but nothing too bad and they'd be gone by the time we got home tonight. Hmmm.....

I get home at 5:20 or so, and I'm walking down the hallway to the apartment. I smell something. It gets stronger and stronger as I walk toward the door. That can't be the shower, I think. That smells like a vat of chemicals was dumped onto the carpet. I open the door and WHOOOSH!! A wall of chemical stench hit me. I instantly run to see if the kitten is still alive, how could she live through this?!?! She did, the magic little kitty that she is.

So I've been trying to air it out, but its giving me a sore throat and my nose began pouring snot out. Plus I think I'm high right now. Not a good high either, like vicodin or pot. A bad high. Like huffing chemicals. I feel like a 5th grader trying to be cool. Only I don't want to be cool. I want to breathe, damnit!

So me and my magic kitty are sitting in here hoping we don't pass out and watching the Simpsons. Wish us luck...... and oxygen for that matter.

The Dalles Suck and A Last-Minute Kitty

Ok so the deal with the kitty I planned to adopt was that they couldn't exactly hold her for me, but they knew I was coming Saturday, and would call me if someone else adopted her so I wouldn't have to, I dunno, say- drive all the way out there with my hopes up and not come back from a 3 hour round trip empty-handed?

So I get there at about 3pm on Saturday with Jenna and my dad. We pull in and the place is a sty. Literally. Actually I'm not positive, but it looked and smelled of pigs. Its a crappy, run-down, dark smelly old house with tons of cats running wild in every room. Scary. I walk in and say "Hey, we spoke, I'm here to pick up "Albie"." They look at me confused. One guy says, "Well we just adopted Albie out less than 2 hours ago." I said, "Then why on earth didn't you call me? We drove from Portland." They reply "we thought that was you". I say "Did you not ask them for their name?!?!" To which I got nothing but "oh, I'm so sorry" and blah-de-blah.

Now at this point I'm very angry. A) I'm not getting my kitty that I've been obsessing about for weeks. B) I just drove all the way out to the fucking Dalles. C) They lied to me. D) They tried to cover it up with more lies. E) I'm standing in the scariest, stinkiest cat-house in the world.
So, to make another sale, they start bringing other cats to me. Cats I don't want to see. Telling me they're also Maine Coons (they're very obviously not, by the way).
I stare off at a wall for a second contemplating exploding at them. I breathe. In the middle of one of the old hags asking me a question about a scrawny looking cat she's holding, I interrupt her, "I'm going to be going now". And walk away. My dad and Jenna follow without asking questions. They're smart.

But on the way home we stop at the Oregon Humane Society and fate decides to stop raining feces down upon me. I see a pile of Maine Coon kittens and a grab a girl, "Giada" and stake my claim. Good thing too, all her siblings were adopted within a half hour of me getting there.

SO- I have my Minerva. She's 10 weeks old (tiny!!!) and brown/gray, with a white belly and white eyeliner. She loves to play in water and purr on mine and James' laps. She's perfect.

And the Dalles will forever = Hell to me.

p.s. I'll post some pictures as soon as I can, but it might be a week or so. She looks a lot like the other girl, but smaller and even sweeter.

Its Official

For all of you who have been DESPERATELY waiting for news on the "Kitty Situation", well, I've got news for you. As my title clearly states, its official. I'm going to pick up that lovely little Maine Coon babe on Saturday. Woot woot!
I bought all her stuff today, kind of as an insurance measure, to make sure that neither myself nor James backs out on this. As if this scenario would ever happen: "Well..... I really don't want that cute kitty anymore, but..... I guess I already have the litter.... and what am I going to do with all those catnip mice??? Guess I'd better go get her...."
Riiiiiiiiiggghhht. Nothing like catnip mice to stop you from simplifying your life, eh?

Anywho, I'm starting to hack up some genuinely tasty goo, so I think its NyQuil time. Sweet dreams!