honorary Hose Monster:
Drunk as a skunk and needing some booty (it just took me about thirty seconds to type that last sentence. Who knew that typing when drunk could be so hard?) Seriously, it shoudl be illegal to be be as drunk as I am right now, but this has been an okay night. After last weekend's not good timex, I'm dlag to be starting this one out liek thizs.
So seriously, there are lots of good looking girls arou\nd, but why don't they want me? Maybe it's just that I have issues and I want something else, or that I am too much of a sissy to do anything about my horniness.
I should put myself to bed now before I break something.
Many of the children of our fair nation, and indeed a healthy number of public transportation riding adults, have really taken to Harry Potter since J.K Rowling first started publishing her wildly popular and imaginative tomes. And with the release of the first feature film some time back, kids finally had a chance to pit their own imaginations against those of Hollywood.
For the capitalists, they had the perfect merchandising opportunity. Enter the Nimbus 2000.
The Nimbus 2000 is a model of the broom Mr. Potter flies around on in the movie. Apparently it makes some swooshing sounds and with the batteries, it even vibrates to provide the real sensation of flying!
To aid customers in deciding if the Nimbus 2000 is right for them, Amazon.com has posted the following consumer reviews on their site:
Harry Potter Toy, Review
Reviewer: A toy enthusiast from Maine, USA
"I recently bought this for my son, Vantro. He's a HUGE Harry Potter fan. Seen the movie 32 times (in the theaters) and made the paper. This toy gives him the ability to fly around the house zapping things. My only problem I see with the toy is the batteries drain too fast and his sister fights him over it, so now I need to buy her one."
Great, great, great GIFT IDEA!
Reviewer: Jen from USA
"I gave this as a gift to my cousin Jessica who is a huge Harry Potter fan. My aunt can't stop thanking me enough. She says Jessica plays with it, pretending to be Hermione, riding it around her room or outside in her yard until she's exhausted. Great gift idea, not just for boys."
I have also provided the following reviews of the Nimbus 2000 to further help you become an educated consumer.
The Nimbus 2000 is great!
Reviewer: Lucy from Klamath Falls, OR
"I was worried my twin 12-year old daughters would be a little old for this toy, especially with them starting junior high this year, but they both love Harry Potter, so I thought it be a fun little thing. Now all their friends come over, and they sit up in their room all afternoon screaming and giggling. Yesterday they were upstairs from the time they got home until dinner, and all through dinner I could just see them rushing through their meal so they could back upstairs to ride the Nimbus 2000 back to their special fantasy land! My girls have never giggled so much! Thanks Nimbus 2000!"
Fun for all ages
Reviewer: Lance from Pontiac, MI
"I bought the Nimbus 2000 for my 7 year-old son. Last night my wife and I went out for the evening and left our 15 year-old daughter in charge. We heard outbursts of delight when we got home that night, but little Jimmy was already in bed. Lindsay had finished her homework and was releasing some stress by pretending she was riding around on a magical flight! The Nimbus 2000 reminds us of how when we were kids, the best toys were very simple and required you to close your eyes and make believe! Bravo!"
Great toy, but watch your children
Reviewer: Bonnie from Springfield, MA
"I bought the Nimbus 2000 for my 8 year-old, but as soon as I saw how much she enjoyed it, I got a little worried that she would forget about all her chores and I would have to take it away from her. Sure enough, as soon as her father left on a week-long business trip, she started acting up. She was 4 seconds late to the dinner table last night! I had to punish her, so I took the Nimbus 2000 away. But I can see why she loved it so much. I had to give it a try, and pretty soon I felt just like I was flying too! And the best part is that I felt like I was still in the clouds even after I got off! I was almost sad when my husband returned, because then I couldn't play Hogwarts in the bedroom anymore without feeling really silly! A great toy, but watch your children with it."
That thing, like, totally sucks
Reviewer: Mikey from Pittsburgh, PA
"Jenny and I used to like totally hang out every day after 6th period English. We'd get ice cream and then walk home sorta together and like, watch old 90210 reruns on FX and stuff. Then her little sister got this Nimble Bus Tooth House or something like that, and I heard her telling her friends at school the next day how totally cool this thing was. Ever since then, the girls have been running back to her house to play with like, themselves and the Nimble Bus. They even skipped 6th period English yesterday! The Nimble Bus is the reason I don't have any friends no more."
The Nimbus 2000 is a part of every chapter meeting!
Reviewer: The women of Delta Gamma, San Diego State University
"We used to have formals and Gone Greek night and other activities with the fraternities on campus to pass the weekends, but those frat boys also showed up drunk and whenever we tried to play they'd be really happy, but then after about 30 seconds, they'd get really tired and want to go home and sleep! And they always made a mess everywhere. Then Jenna's little sister forgot her Nimbus 2000 in her room last weekend when her family was visiting, and the next day we all went bought out the whole supply in the local toy store using House funds! The toy is that great! You can hear the girls shrieking with delight at all hours as they let their imaginations and fantasies run free! I was swooshing around the sky last night even after the batteries ran out!"
There you have it, parents. The Nimbus 2000 can be a great toy for your child too.
Special thanks go to Bennett for this post. Thanks babe!
I have Blogger's Block in the worst way right now. Honestly, I read everyone else and they're out jotting down insightful observations of the news or interesting stories about themselves, maybe even a fantasy conversation or whatever. Meanwhile, the shouts outs have dried up since I listed the second part of my 100 things about me, and I'm wondering if my time is winding down.
Yet I know this cannot be. The frequency of hits to my site has increased exponentially in the last week, for some reason or another. And all I do to show my gratitude is take an old picture of Snoop Dogg and talk about how his dropping marijuana is a huge thing (which I think it is).
Oh creativity, where have thine glorious bounties gone?
In the meantime, I read about this contest today, and I damn near burst out loud laughing in the middle of a crowded room. These guys are crazy. And thanks to Jam Sandwhich for the link.
What the hell is up with Snoop giving up weed? The same Snoop Doggy Dogg, who Entertainment Weekly called the "Maharaja of Marijuana" giving up bud? Can this be? This is one of those really dumb things that happens that still manages to shake my understanding of the world around me to the ground. September just never ceases to jerk me around.
On the other hand, kudos to the Doggfather for making the move. It's no secret that I am not the biggest fan of rap music, but I confess a certain soft spot for the melodies of Snoop, in particular those laid down with a certain doctor friend of his. I think part of the reason I have always liked snoop is that he seems to be the most real person of all the rappers that came out in the 90s and those that have sinced followed them. Seriously, Snoop may have been putting down gangsta rhythms or whatever, but take a look at his videos. That who he was. Even as far back as something like "Let Me Ride" with Dre, it was about them and the music. Look at guys now: the whole thing is about getting girls on camera to shake their booty. That's it. Asses and boobs all over the place. Meanwhile, even in "Gin and Juice," Snoop is making fun of the whole scene in some way.
Ever since beating the murder charge, the guy really has changed his life around too. Ever since he became a father, he started showing some serious dedication to his family. He's been true to his wife and his now three kids (I think anyway. Admittedly, I'm not a Snoop expert, but the guy just gives me a good feeling, unlike most pop stars in general). And now the guy is giving up smoking pot, which has really become an essential part of his identity. He once swore that he would die before he quit smoking up, but now life is changed, and he's ready to make changes to himself to meet the changes in his life.
Bravo, Doggy Dogg.
But still, Snoop gave up bud. Still throws me for a loop.
Moving down here has been, and continues to be, somewhat tough for me.
I like to think I am the self-reliant independent sort, and that I can generally get by in most any situation. For the most part, I still think that, but some types of getting by are more trying than others. I'm doing alright down here, but it's pretty lonely sometimes.
The weekdays are fine because I am so busy that I don't have much time to think about anything else. In addition, a healthy portion of those weekday hours are spent in the company of other people, many of whom are finding themselves in similar situations to me. So far, the people with whom I am talking and spending time are really very cool, but to this point we're not out really partying together and making plans together for the weekends or anything. We haven't exchanged phone numbers or anything, and I guess that could be symbolic of something.
Anyway, the weekends are a little different. I haven't had a spoken conversation today. I think the only words I have even spoken today were "thank you" to the guy at the gym who swiped my card at the entrance desk. The fact that this was a holiday weekend probably exacerbated matters a little bit.
This simply isn't feeling like home yet.
I realized today that I have the perfect acid test to prove if I feel at home somewhere: picture hanging. I came home from the library today fully intended to eliminating the last evidence that I had recently moved by taking the pile of framed art next to the coat closet and finding places to hang it. But when I picked up the first picture and tried to decide where to put it, I slowly started developing this sick to my stomach feeling about the whole thing. I think maybe I see something more or less resembling a state of permanence in hanging pictures, because you're banging a nail or some other hanging device into the wall; you're making an indelible wall on that space. And the truth of the matter is that without a sense of home, it's hard to feel a sense of permanence. (I had this happen once before when I knew something was not right. Incidentally, that was last September. I'm growing to hate this month, and obviously we all know there are more things to think about in September now than my own sorry insecurities.)
All of my pictures are now either in a big bag or under the futon. I don't know if I will hang them or not. I somewhat doubt that I will.
I'll make it here. I'm not really worried about that. I'm not giving myself another option, because this is important and I have to get this right. But how I make it remains an open issue at this point. Part of this questioning comes from the fact that I left a wonderful life to come start this one, and I have done some pretty serious doubting of that decision in the last couple of weeks. Transition is a normal state of affairs, and I don't mind change. In the instant case however, I transitioned hoping that I could maintain some vestiges of that old life and bring them into the new. At present I think I'm feeling a little forgotten, a little ignored and just a little bit sad as I come to the realization that this is just the way of things and I perhaps am holding on a little too tightly to something that might not have ever even been there in the first place.
I feel like a freshman in high school sitting and spinning of lines in his spiral notebook that he keeps in a dresser drawer and zealously protects against discovery. I was one of those kids. I kept a really awful journal. But this blog has become the most self-indulgent of items, allowing me to be a story teller and a jester, and now it starts serving as a sounding board. I don't think I can keep this one private, and maybe I don't want to. Maybe this is a cry for sympathy or something, which would explain why I am posting this in my blog rather than sitting in the dark, staring at the ceiling, and wondering when this will get better and I'll start thinking of myself as a happy person again.
But things resume some normalcy tomorrow, so maybe I will be okay until next weekend. I hope I can avoid any more "feeling sorry for myself" posts between now and then. In the meantime, I think I will go read for a while and try and let the realization that the rutinary life begins again tomorrow slowly rock me to sleep.
Hope you all enjoyed the holiday. All in all, it wasn't that bad.
Important tip: when it's lunchtime, focus on eating your sandwich rather than on the urgency of responding to email. I just spent a solid few minutes cleaning mayonnaise off of my keyboard.
When I was in college, my parents would send me random things through the mail on occasion. One time they sent me this big manila envelope that had bubble wrap lining the inside. When I picked up the package, it felt and sounded like a bunch of marbles rolling around inside. Very puzzled, I started walking back to my room and noticed halfway there that the postage had cost my units about 8 bucks. This considered, I figured this must be something good.
It was five friggin' pounds of Runts candy.
I really like Runts, so initially I was kind of excited, though I was a little puzzled as to why my parents would a: send me this in the first place, and b: why they would send it through the mail, paying more in postage than the bag itself cost. Anyway, the first, oh say half pound, was great. But after half a pound of Willy Wonka goodness, I started getting a little sick of them, and my roomie and I still had 4.5 pounds of candy to put away. So we started going up and down the halls offering candy to anyone we saw. I swear, most of the people to whom we talked must of thought we had laced them with crack or something the way they were eyeing us before politely refusing. It took us quite some time to rid ourselves of the Runts.
While shopping at Sam's Club yesterday, I realized I needed to fill my candy jar. I came home with another five pound bag of Runts.
I'm an idiot.