2.28.05
Category: dribblings
| February 2005 Dribblings | |
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2.28.05 i told him my favorite part of the corndog was the mustard. he concurred. he said, “colonel mustard, in the closet, with the candlestick.” and then we laughed because it was so gay. we are dorks. *** we went to the picture show this evening. we saw Man of the House. i wanted to see it because on the previews there’s some girl who says, “where’s your happy face?” and TLJ deadpans, “this is my happy face.” and that preview makes me laugh EVERY TIME. it’s the southern accent. it’s like she gives face three syllables. and he gives is two syllables. and if you live in the south you’ve probably heard those words before. the southern accent, she can stretch the words, no? you might be thinking, “but why is that funny?” well, heck i mean, why is someone getting hit the face with a ball/stick/fish funny? why is a fart noise always funny? why is old ladies telling dirty jokes funny? i don’t have the answers to these questions. do you know what’s not funny though? getting hit in the face with a ball/stick/whatever. i remember this one time when we were kids we thought we’d be cool and play stick ball. we had a tennis ball and a broomstick. i was the catcher. the thing is, a broomstick is a lot longer than a baseball bat. oh, you knew that? yeah, well, i wasn’t thinking that far ahead at the time. i remember screaming a lot. i just knew that there would be blood pouring out of my ear. no blood though. bonus! the internet smokes dope and searches for: 2.27.05 on saturday a group of students from UAB came up and shot a music video. the band is called Heroic Me and while they’re not my cup of tea, they are very nice people. they used the 417 building. and i was the lucky bastard who had to spend her saturday babysitting the building (a whopping 8 hours of complete boredom and hearing the same song roughly 49 bajillion times). liz came by for a bit. and later on laura and kris came by and brought me crackers and a soda and jimmy brought me a cheeseburger. it was intersetting to watch the video “process” but also, it’s very boring. though i gotta say, the students and the band and the “extras” (read: moshers) were very polite and they did a good job of cleaning up after themselves. which is important if you’re an old person like me. *** thanks be to zack attack and kristie for letting me play bass on their worship team. it was good. mr. finlayson’s message was also good, dare i say, it was hella good. *** i signed up for the easypay option so my tmobile bill will be paid automagically. the site says it will take two billing cycles before it’s in effect. my question is, “the hell?” it won’t kick in until may. what? i mean, does someone have to type it all out on a typewriter first? then send it to Russia (via tug boat) for verification? and then Russia has to send it back to Tmobileland? but it’s gonna arrive on a friday afternoon, and there’s a long weekend so, they won’t actually look at it until tuesday, and then the dyslexic guy is gonna type my numbers in wrong, so i’ll actually be “lost” for a number of weeks before i call wondering where my bill is and why i no longer have service and the foreign guy on the phone is gonna be all, “jabbajibberjabber please.” and i’ll be all, “why do i do this to myself?” and he’ll be all, “joobahooba payment habbanabba.” and i’ll be all, “why is there a muppet on the phone? may i talk to a manager please?” and he’ll be all, “meesa manager!” and then you’ll read about me in the paper the next day.
2.25.05 i went to hear liz sing tonight. i love hearing her sing.
2.24.05 so i continue to paint this giant dresser thing white and a few minutes after the crying episode (meanwhile my brain is all, “what the hell is the matter with you, jaimie? stop being sad. there is nothing sad! you need to chill out. now!”) i open one of the cabinet doors and written on the inside of the door is, “is anything troubling your mind?” all of a sudden, being a housepainter has become stressful. i don’t need this weird crap; i just paint walls. that’s what i love about this job, it’s mindless. now? now it’s all, “if you or anyone you know has any infromation about any of the events shown tonight call 1-800-876-5353.” and i don’t need it. reefer log: 2.23.05 i haven’t felt right this week. i’ve been really tired and so damn hungry. after my breakfast? still hungry. after lunch? still hungry. by dinnertime i feel sick though i still eat dinner. and then at sleepy time i’m starving. but i refuse to eat before i go to bed because, hello? i’ve never had to eat a snack before bedtime. that’s weird. and if you haven’t fallen asleep yet my point is…what the hell is going on? ***** yesterday’s Reefer Log query for “funny baseball player names” got me thinking. were they looking for the names of funny baseball players? or baseball players with funny names? so while painting at Murder House IV, (no wait, i think it’s V now), while painting at Murder House V i made two mental lists. i share mit you, my baseball friends. at first i typed ‘baseblah friends’. derp. names of funny baseball players: baseball players with funny names: that’s all i could think of off the top of my head.
2.22.05 i hate to sound like a weenie, but i have a feeling that i’m going to be the one painting the Death Room of the current Murder House job. i know, isn’t it terrible? i mean, some poor soul kills herself and all i can think is, “me. me. me.” i’m a contemptible person. also, you should know this by now. Dear People Who Are Contemplating Suicide, DON’T DO IT! Love, **** i flipped between Veronica Mars and the One Day At A Time reunion special. if i am hip and lame at the same time do they cancel each other out? if so, what is left? probably mostly lame, because i enjoyed the reunion special more than VM. i am sorry. it’s just, i watched ODAAT everyday before school my junior and senior years of high school. it’s E!’s fault. i’ve only seen one ep of Veronica Mars. and i just, well, i didn’t know any of the characters. there’s veronica and a girl and a black dude and some guy and veronica’s dad? and some other people? and none of them had a name. my bad. but barbara and julie and ms. romano and schnieder, i know. **** lots of action outside of the duplex tonight. two cats having catfightsex. a black and white cat and an orange type cat. they were howling something awful. Toonces Whorecat was looking out the window and saying, “please mom? please can i go out and play?” and i was all, “no, you may not.” i threw a beer at cats. i might as well throw up some spinning, blinking rebel flag .gifs and put SKYNYRD RULZ!!!1!! at the top.
2.21.05 was today not the longest day? i spent the morning in a hall painting baseboards and crown moulding and doorways. oh, and the hallway? smelled like pee. so not only am i mere feet away from the Death Room (which has it’s own Fun Ambience) but i’m in Piss Hall as well. the let’s add Wasps of Doom that keep flying in the window. the window is open because i’m painting with oil based paint. and if you know me, and you probably do, or even if you don’t know me, you could probably guess, i hate oil based paint. it’s sticky and the fumes and it doesn’t come off my hands, arms, and face without acetone or paint thinner, neither of which i like to put on my skin. after lunch i was still in Piss Hall and dad was in a bedroom off of Piss Hall and he was saying, “gosh, it’s hot up here.” and i was all, “hm. yeah.” and he said, “no i mean, it’s REALLY hot. i’m totally sweating.” so i look over to say something like, it’s not that hot in here and KAPOW dad is painting the bedroom ceiling in his shirt and underpants. why did he do that? **** this evening jimmy and i went out to eat with his parents. then we stopped over at my parents house to play with their new puppy! they finally found one to replace poor Scabies. jimmy and i babysat the puppy while dad went to take a shower. it’s a good thing that jimmy and i have been together for so long. so, is anyone else’s dad way too comfortable in their underpants? is it just mine? reefer log: 2.20.05 so jimmy an i go the store and we buy a frozen pizza. lemme just say that i am not a fan of frozen pizza and i rarely eat it. so we come home and cook thie frozen pizza, in fact, it’s the first frozen pizza i’ve ever cooked in my oven (unless you count the time that liznchris came over and cooked a frozen pzza in my oven ‘cos they didn’t have an oven yet. but i dont; count that. because i was not incharge of cooking it.) so liz come over and we drink wine and eat cheese sticks (oh yeah! we had cheese sticks for a um, i can’t thisnk of the word . the part before dinner? not snack, but like a snakc. befroe dinner snakc. what the hell is that word?) so we eat cheese sticks and wine and then thie pizza is ready and jimmy is having liek, the hardest time cutting the damn pizza dna i say to liz, some thing like, “pardon jimm’y s cutting skillz. we never have frzen pizza.” and she’a all, :”really?” ;cos i guess frozen pizza is really popular sometimes. andyway long story short: we cooked the mother farking pizza with the damned cardboard on the bottom. apprently there’s a damn piece of cardfuckingboard under the pizza. myfucking bad. okaY? pizza is ruined but liz and i eat part of it anyway becaise hello> so hungry. so anyway eventually we atarts talking about movies and actorand actresses. i should say that jimmy and liz talking of thiese things because i am not good at remembering people in movies. at one point we were trying to think of some lady in sme movie with James Spader and i say, “Stargate!” and liz says, “no. not that movie,\.” TATDOW! meanwhile, they have talkied about half a million acrtesses. but we’re looking at ms. mazer’s list of crap she;s been in and i’ll be darned, she was an ep of Seventh Heaven. hee. so i say, “hey, the oldest daugher had her baby.” and liz says, “what?” and i’m all, “yeah, she’s a priest now, and she had her baby.” and liz says, “didn;t she marry a jew?” and i say, “i have no idea, but i know she had her baby, on like, an elevator or somthing.” amd oi say, “hell no. i know as much about that show as i do little House on the Prarie. i now there was Laura Ingels and then she was Laura Ingles Wilder. that’s it.” and then sometime during all of that liz’s parents called needing directions on how to get from Panama City to New Orleans. i tell you, we sure kjnow how to have fun. weekend reefer log (and boy, is it a doozy): 2.18.05 *** here’s something to ponder: the New York Yankees’ pitching rotation (5 dudes) is “worth” $67.2 million. ho.lee.cow. if only we could harness this power for good. Mussina alone is getting $19 mil. i’d be all, “sure, you can have $19 million dollars this year. but only if you win every game. deal?” *** the Paint Monkey is working at an empty old house now. it’s huge. 3 stories. there’s a secret room. it’s super weird. the walls of the room are covered in green felt, and there’s gold hooks all over the walls. there used to be many, many, many handguns on the hooks because you can see all the outlines on the felt. so many handguns. it’s a creepy room, and i hate it. reefer log: 2.17.05 speaking of wastebaskets, GARBAGE DAY!!!! O, Holy Thursday. I offer up my meager rubbish which consists mainly of old soy milk and coffee grounds. Bless you, Garbage Man. *** I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT THEY HAVE CANCELED HOCKEY. my disbelief is worthy of caps lock. DO YOU UNDERSTAND THIS? Y’ALL, IF THEY CAN’T “FIX” HOCKEY, HOW ARE THEY GOING TO “FIX” IRAQ? 2.16.05 Dear Jose Canseco, Look, no one believes a word you say. Also, you’re coming off as a desperate ass hat. And sorta gay, what with the supposed shooting steroids into your teammates’ asses. Baseball is not homo-erotic; football yes, baseball no. To further your sadness you keep holding on to the past saying you were the best baseball player in the ’80s. The thing is, i was there in the ’80s, m’kay? And honestly, you were overrated. There were much more solid players than you. Robin Yount, Vince Coleman, Don Mattingly, Wade Boggs, Tony Gwynn, Rickey Henderson, Mike Schmidt, Ryne Sandberg, Ozzie Smith, Cal Ripken Jr., Eddie Murray, George Brett just to name an even dozen. And i know that you “invented” the 40/40 club with your 40 homeruns and 40 stolen bases. And i know that you’ve hit well over 400 homeruns in your career. But also? You were on steroids. And that? Is called cheating. So really, your numbers mean nothing. Because they are tainted with performance enhancing drugs. You are a disgrace to the sport of baseball. You should publicly apologize to the sport, the fans, the people you’ve probably slandered, and your 1989 Championship Team. And oh, you’re gonna play the race card? Maybe you should think twice about that, huh champ? You were making $4 million a year back then. Perhaps now would be a good time to apologize to Jackie Robinson, Satchel Paige, Roy Campanella etc. for your being a BIG FUCKING BABY. From now on i dub thee Jose “The Douche Bag” Canseco. Don’t get me wrong, i know why you wrote the book. You’re no longer a superstar. You aren’t popular anymore. Plus, you’re probably hung like a gerbil now. I’M TALKING ABOUT YOUR SHRUNKEN TOOL, YOU VOMIT-EATING PUSS BAG. Trust me, i get it. You ran out of money, you’re not having sex, and you’re really angry. You might even say you’re raging. That’s because you’re on steroids, you fucking twit. i would rather have a flesh-eating disease than read your book of cat sick. Jose Canseco, you are dead to baseball. You hear me?! Dead. Love, Jaimie Pickle 2.15.05 updated 50books i would just like to take a moment here to point out that i am psychic. I KNEW LORETTA LYNN WOULD WIN A GRAMMY FOR VAN LEAR ROSE. THAT’S RIGHT. YOU KNOW IT! YEAH! YOU KNOW! DON’T ACT LIKE I DIDN’T TELL YOU ABOUT THIS MONTHS AGO. reefer log: 2.13.05 * have i confessed my love of Roberta Flack lately? ** ‘cos Roberta Flack can sing, yo. *** i wish i could sing like her. reefer log: 2.12.05 i used to collect baseball cards. i loved that hobby. it was so easy. i liked buying older cards because i thought they were so cool. yes, i was/am a dork. i was looking through a very small part of my cards last night and i am sad that my collection does not have: other players i would love to have but would not even contemplate spending the hundreds of dollars:
2.11.05 later on in the evening i received a voice mail (sorry i missed your call, the phone, she was charging) and it’s dan and he leaves a message and then pauses this loooooong pause and then says, “so how many people did you talk to today?” (referencing 2.02.05 entry) then florrie grabs the phone and says, “we’ll talk to you later.” and hangs up. you guys. that was the funniest thing and it CRACKED ME UP and if it hadn’t been 10pm when i checked the message i would have called you back to tell you. reefer log: *according to Webster’s New World College Dictionary 4th Ed.: so there you have it, kids. a mildly vulgar term. oy, we are living in the End Times, when there’s condom commercials on the t.v., Lemony Snicket books, and definitions for douche bag in the dictionary. yay end times! 2.10.05 DANGER: JIMMY, DO NOT BUY ME A CARDBOARD HEART FULL OF DELICIOUS CHOCOLATES FOR V-DAY. UNLESS OF COURSE, YOU LIKE THAT SORT OF THING IN YOUR BUM. WHICH, YOU DON’T. ***** i just downloaded Dolly Parton singing Stairway. i’m not sure i feel about that yet. **** updated 50 Books Lemony Snicket’s Very Sad Book About Orphans Who Are Surrounded By Ineffectual Adults And Abused By Their Greedy Uncle With Pedophilic Tendencies reefer log: 2.09.05 “yeah okay, HEY WAIT! WHY IS BARRY WHITE GAY?!” “oh no, i wasn’t talking about Barry, i was just sayin’. a black stack and a gay stack.“ “oh. ok.” “does tina turner go in the black or gay stack?” “what? are you serious?! hey also, can we stop calling it the “black” stack? call it motown or something, it’s Black History Month for crying outs.” “so, the “Black Stack” is offensive, but you’re okay with the “Gay Stack”?” “no. not at all. i mean, look how tall it is.” it went something like that, anyway. **** BUT WAIT! I’M NOT A TOTAL DOUCHE BAG. SOMETIMES I’M HELPFUL! i volunteered for something. so anyway it’s called Conversation Program or Conversation Friends or Something Conversation. something. and i, like a moron, said, “uhhhhhh ok.” i was kinda weirded out when they partnered me up with a guy. i thought, “hmm. i wonder what jimmy will say…” “you? are a dirty old man.” so i met my Talkin’ Buddy today. his name is David and he’s from Colombia. he speaks pretty good english. we only had a few moments of What The Hell Are You Trying To Say? he talked about how the food here tastes so deefrent. “even the meelk. here the meelk is taste deefrent.” he is a super nice guy and i had a great time talking to him. guys, he’s the Colombian version of A.J. i kid you not! that made it so much easier to talk to him. he’s totally A.J., only with big curly hair. reefer log: 2.08.05 **** i feel shocked and betrayed. i…i don’t know what to do or how to react. i just found out that the Montreal Expos have turned into the Washington Nationals (the who? the what? the hell?!). D.C has a ball team again. and it’s not so much that i’m going to miss Montreal, i mean, i always thought the Expos had the lamest team name ever (and Devil Rays, you’re right up there), but it’s the fact that i just now heard about it. i realize i live in a bubble world, but you’d think something like that would’ve gotten through. reefer log: 2.07.05 the “pres.” says he can cut the deficit in half by 2009. but at what cost? About 150 programs in all would be shuttered or radically cut back to help meet Bush’s goal of shaving the budget deficit in half by 2009. One out of every three of the targeted programs concern education. Medicaid funding would be reduced significantly and even major military weapons programs would be scrapped to make more resources available for the war in Iraq. ONE OUT OF EVERY THREE?! GOOD ONE. BUT WAIT, LET’S SEE WHAT DICK FUCKING CHENEY HAS TO SAY ABOUT IT. “We are being tight,” Vice President Cheney said yesterday. “This is the tightest budget that has been submitted since we got here.” But Cheney defended the cuts as measured. “I think you’ll find, once people sit down and have a chance to look at the budget, that it is a fair, reasonable, responsible, serious piece of effort,” he said on “Fox News Sunday.” it’s a serious piece of something all right. SOMEONE PLEASE EXPLAIN WHY IT’S REASONABLE. The spending plan does not include future expenses of the continuing wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, nor does it include upfront transition costs of restructuring Social Security as Bush has proposed. The administration will submit a separate supplemental request largely for Afghanistan and Iraq operations, which will be reflected in the budget charts, officials said, but war costs in future years will not be. Nor will be the cost of Bush’s Social Security plan, which would begin in 2009 and result in $754 billion in additional debt over its first five years. Lord, have mercy. reefer log: 2.06.05 because i’m a girl. so i thought that my shop vac was broken. now, if you’re my landlord you might be wondering how i blew a fuse. well, i don’t know. i noticed that the lamp was going wonky last night every time the refrigerator was coming on (the lamp would get brighter and brighter.). so maybe it has something to do with the ‘fridge. ***** i forgot to tell you guys this story until i told laura this story yesterday as i helped her move some of her gramma’s stuff to her new fancy downtown home. dad and i were in the elevator at the Holy House and this dude gets on too. and he’s got a long beard and looks a little rough, like maybe he’s a biker dude or something. and there’s dad and i in our paint clothes looking all Worker Bee. the dude says, “y’all know any good painters?” reefer log: 2.05.05 “I submitted my resignation to President Bush twice during that period i don’t think for one second that he believed “president” bush would accept his “resignation”. that is a load of crap, and it stinks. but the kicker is the last paragraph: Critics pounced in December after Rumsfeld told a soldier what a guy. you guys do understand that he has no soul, right? reefer log has soul: 2.04.05 my leetle brahther called me last night and gave me two codes for free iTunes songs he got from drinking soda pop (which he isn’t supposed to be drinking. fink!) and he said, “i just gave you two dollars.” which seemed very hilarious at the time. much like this: after work today Popsicle and i went to the grocery store and as we were putting the groceries in the car i handed him a bag and said, “that’s meat.” reefer log: what are montage dresses? i keep getting searches for this. 2.03.05 wait. scratch the righteous and forgiven part. reefer log: 2.02.05 worst blog entry ever: today i had a diet cherry vanilla dr pepper. today was strange because i only talked to 3 people. mr. fleegan and i had breakfast for dinner again. tomorrow my minutes start over. yay! reefer log: 2.01.05 i am so obsessed with House of Leaves that i am nearly ashamed at what i have done. however, i’m trying not to become crazy obsessed with it, and so i’ve started reading V. by thomas pynchon. yeah, okay, shut up. i am going to master HoL. i am going to solve it. i am going to make it my bitch. i am going to go crazy and people are going to start saying things like, “remember jaimie before she read that book? she used to be so funny and cool. now she’s just sad.” “yeah. i wish she’d take a shower.” i got the new ani CD Knuckle Down i’ve listened to it once. so far so good. have i bragged yet about how i finally paid off all my medical bills? (well, all but the hospital bill. but still.) yes. it only took me 4 months. but i did it. yay. now piss off, you leeches. my bro is doing very well, and he has insurance so don’t worry, he won’t have to pay a thing. fuck you, Riverview Regional Medical Center. fuck you up the ass. you see this? this is me giving you the finger. i hope you can see it because i’m doing it as hard as i can. reefer log: |
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The One About a Love Letter
Category: weekleez
The One About A Love Letter
February 14, 2005
hey baby,
i love you.
you’re so sexy when you blush. but i guess you’re always “blushing” aren’t you? you’re just the sweetest thing.
we’ve been together for what? 10 years now?
it’s been 10 awesome years, babe. you’ve been with me through thick and thin, wind and rain, sickness and health, all those things. i know, we should just go ahead and get married. i mean, it’s not like we’re looking for other people. and our bond is unbreakable. i have no doubt that we’ll be together until we’re both too old to go anymore.
i know, honey, i know. it’s not practical for us to get married right now.
god i love you. you make me feel so, so, so free. i can totally be myself when i’m with you. you’ve never judged me, even when i had blue hair and was scream/singing the lyrics to that old Jackson 5 song…you acted like it was completely normal. and i guess for me, it is normal. and i love you for accepting me.
i feel like the luckiest girl in the world ‘cos i have you.
it makes me so happy when you’re happy, and when you’re not feeling well, i’m not feeling well. i hate it when you’re sick, honey. my world stops.
no really. it does.
and i’m completely miserable without you.
can you believe it’s been 10 years? i know! but guess what? i still think you’re sexy. and when we go places? you’re sexiness makes me more sexy. i love that about you. you share your sexiness.
i love you.
you’re blushing aren’t you? heh.
i love your body. it’s classic. and when i bathed you this weekend? oh yeah. i love you when you’re clean.
you sparkle.
oh, and sorry about not filling up your tires sooner.
i love you, my red jeep.
next week’s epitomb: jaimie writes an ‘R’ rated letter to her books.
jaimie “i love lamp” pickle
Leave a Comment | PermalinkTags: jeep
1.31.05
Category: dribblings
1.31.05
i updated the 50 Books.
PENANCE FOR SAYING DOUCHE BAG TOO MUCH
at the Holy House today we painted a room that still had some of the lady’s belongings in it. dad comes out of the bathroom holding an ancient, red, hot water bottle with a long tube hanging out of it. dad says, “holy shit. i didn’t think these still existed.” and i look and see what he’s holding and i immediately flashback to me, 12 years old, watching Sybil at 4am crying my eyes out watching this mom torture her daughter with the same thing and she’s screaming, “hold your water! hold your water!”
“AAAAAHHH! SYBIL! dad, what is that?!”
“gee, i don’t know, douche bag.”
“hey! oh. hee. really? i thought they were more…disposable than that.”
“yeah. i’m pretty sure they are.”
“um, you’re going to wash your hands, yes?”
“yes. with acid.”
“good.”
****
dad and i ate at Pasghetti’s this evening. i had the muffuletta and he had a calzone. it was so delicious. the table behind us consisted of two ladies and one dude. the dude was some kind of doctor type person and was also a flaming homosexual. i mean, i didn’t ask if he was gay, but i’m pretty sure he was. not that i care, i’m just telling you this so when you “picture” his voice make sure it’s all drama queen and lispy. here are some snippets that i overheard:
girl 1: he will not listen to me at all. BUT, if i call him Spiderman? he’ll do whatever i want.
gay doc: you are like, a freshman? in college?
girl 2: yes.
gd: a freshman?
g2: ye-es.
gd: in college?
gd: yeah, but accent walls are like, so ’80s.
g1: but i really think that purple will be-
gd: you mean lavender?
g1: yes, lavender.
gd: black people with diabetes say that they have “sugar” or sugar diabetes.
g2: really? sugar?
gd: yeah, that call it the sugar. like, so they won’t get confused about salt diabetes!
the girls laugh.
i sighed the deep and painful sigh of patience.
****
while walking through the lobby of an office building a 14 year old asked me for a cigarette.
reefer log:
plus sized ladies dresses
saying i love you too soon
stuff to buy for your girlfriend
1000 corpses
generation of light from a pickle
hardcore thumbs
thumbs goth
cabinet magazines
what does dork mean call me a bedwetter will you…
montage dresses this cracked me up
kids say the silly things
bathroom light monkey
how to get boobs in 1 day impossible!
harold and kumar it only took ONE DAY. that must be a fleegan record.
worlds largest trees
how to piss off your girlfriend
fire ladder parts
1.30.05
i finally made it through the whole first season of Alias. i can finally get back to reading books now.
the first 10 episodes are stupid. the last half of the season is good. my favorite plotline is Will because he’s just a regular dude. the parts with Sydney going on 12 missions an episode and all of them having close calls?
Dear Redundancy Department,
You are doing a fantastic job of making cool missions and ass kicking quite boring.
Love,
Jaimie Pickle
oh, and the part with the deciphered Rimbaldi text? i’m screaming, “oh please! just anything but a picture of her, okay?! anything!” and then, “thank god. that doesn’t look anything like her. WHAT?!”
****
we painted at the Holy House on friday. we finished up the Rec Room. then this posse of old ladies came and redecorated it. it looks tons better (mostly ‘cos it was dirty white with dark burgundy/purple trim. and now it’s a clean white and tan. it’s cozy.) these old ladies are complete stars now, because everyone in the building came by to see the new look, and everyone has had something good to say about it. the decorators were Mildred and her Band o’ Biddies, including ladies named Estelle, Ms. Swann, and Goody Bishop.
hee.
****
Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle is better than i thought it would be. tons of laughing.
let the searches begin.
****
we had chinese food last night.
i love hot and sour soup. i love it. and eggrolls? love.
my fortune cookie? “your ability is appreciated” in bed. yay!
reefer log:
dirt songs all funny
house of flying daggers theme song i’m telling you, it’s the chinese version of The God Father theme.
pickle kelly
want to buy casserole dish
electricution
drug dealer nicknames i love this.
raggedy ann night light
www.foodnetwork.com
what to do when your boss called you idiot
in a pickle old books
1.29.05
last night liz, kristie, and i worked the door for another hardcore show. the music is way too screamy and distorted for me to truly enjoy it. but the kids, they love it. and it’s weird because they kick and punch and flop around hitting each other, they beat the crap out of each other…. and then they hug. these hardcore/goth/punk/whatever kids hug each other as much as hippies. it’s awesome, but it blows my mind. because i know that if people of my generation get punched in the face, the retaliation isn’t going to be a hug.
it’s a bar fight. and there’s sucker punches.
it’s a softer, gentler punk. well, not really. but there’s hugs.
reefer log:
songs to listen to when you feel like
saying i love you in the greek language
buy my boobs
bathroom space saver cabinet
uh oh ah
fatty thumbs
cartoons gone bad
glass crackpipe
purple ceiling fan
nazi remorse
dream boobs
jp thumbs
spanish light fixture
world’s largest commercial jet
games where you go in strip clubs
hair cut magazines
1.28.05
reefer log:
electricians knife
world’s largest bong what? have i said bong on here? oh. oh hell. it’s from the House of Flying Daggers God Father theme song. internet, have you lost your mind?!
y tu text book
i don’t want a pickle
world’s largest man
best thing for a slingshot
stupid things famous people said
growing up to be white trash by jaimie pickle
how much caffeine does it take to kill to kill what?
bedwetter yay! finally!
your just plain stupid oh yeah? what about my just plain stupid?!
talking beer can opener oh my goodness i want one! wait. no. you don’t need a can opener for beer anymore honey, they have handy tabs on the top. so easy a 6 year old could open one!
sineade o’connor
pictures of nazi tattoos
1.27.05
i have to start Reefer Logging it every day. or every other day. there’s so many to laugh at. and there’s even more that i cannot post because they are so perverted, stupid, and redundant.
reefer log:
picture of a crack head
pringles info
how to get boobs
pickle on crack
pickle fingers creep me out
old boobs
the short story i am a fool
forced witness
jimmy searches for really stupid stuff
video bad cops
tallest person in the world
stupid and crazy potatoes
wookie doll
white trash
magic beowulf
get hair now
girlfriend in fairview
spanish translation for trash basura?
slut whore piss
young slut thumbs
pictures of sic stuff
slow jam song
i hate little people
dolls made to look like my baby
mustache clubs
obscenities in spanish
peanut butter on a knife with a face
home kite
jem dolls
short cops
tattoo art cats
hello kitty tattoos
drug test time table
sport coveralls
greek god pitchers see?! again! and just when i’m going to laugh at the idiot who searched for that, i get this one:
movies about waether and other dangerous
free mom thumbs
eye balls
monkey bathroom
mustache designs
lucy splaining
pringles games
how to install a ceiling light fixture
drug dealer nicknames
free spanish class for kids
black hair magazines
graveyard tattoos
how to cook
tmobile text crack
bathroom monkey
ass hole
download songs to cell
silly things that people do but which i
pitchers of cars
skanks
amtrack i love having my misspellings thrown back at me. and i love even more when i talk about my bowels. and when it happens at the same time? euphoria. you guys, i’m an idiot.
scarpetta movies
peanuts cartoons math
hospital scissors pictures creepy
where were video tapes invented
has anyone else sang the song more than a woman besides me?
fleegan smoking
japan piss
metallica cops
the stuff that makes me laugh
ah, zee internet. ees a broken thing, no?
1.26.05
i met a new old lady at the Holy House today. we’ll call her ms. hattie (because that is her sweet, sweet name). oh man, she is SO AWESOME.
she’s really short and has white fluffy hair. and she dresses really well, and she’s so awesome because she tells dirty jokes. the jokes aren’t that dirty. nor are they particularly funny. but when a little old lady tells a dirty joke, i promise you, it’s the funniest thing in the world.
apparently she’s got a million of them. but some of the other old ladies who hang out in the lobby told her she couldn’t tell her jokes anymore because they are a bunch of ninnies. so she doesn’t come down to the lobby very often. but i tell you, she is a hoot.
when she met us today she couldn’t believe our last name is pickle.
“what? what is your last name?”
“pickle. really.”
“ha! well which one-”
“i’m the sweet one,” i said, raising my hand, “he’s the sour one.” i pointed.
she thought that was awesome. but no, in fact, SHE IS AWESOME.
i am ms. hattie’s number one fan.
*****
today we painted half of the Rec Room. and this one lady was out in the lobby as i was walking through to get more paint and she grabbed me and said, “you better paint it up good in there.”
and i smiled and said, “oh yes ma’am. i sure will!”
and she said, “or else i’m going to have to go in there and give it a stork shower!” and patted her tummy in that indigestion/diarrhea kind of way.
“um, okay. heh.”
the hell?!
1.24.05
i watched the other 4 episodes of Alias. so now i’ve seen 7.
already i’m sick of all of the emotional torture bullshit. yes, these things that happen to her are horrible, and i have no idea what it would be like to live a lie for so long (not working for CIA) and then the try to fix it (work for CIA), and all of that with the, “oh my god, i hardly know my father and now i have to work with him, i’m going to blame him for everything.” angst.
Alias, please.
she worked for 7 years as a spy? she “fit the profile” so they recruited her her freshman year of college? guess what? she’s probably not that emotional. and? and? AND? SHE CONFIDES TO THE CIA HOTTIE ALL THE STOOPID SHIT ABOUT HER FATHER BUT NEVER MENTIONS THAT SHE WAS FUCKING TORTURED BY ELECTRICUTION?! trust me, if there was something to whine about it would be the electro-torture, and not the absentee father bullshit.
she doesn’t even like her dad.
Alias, quit being a dumbass. just show her on cool missions kicking ass. that’s all we need.
1.23.05
“But there is violence in my heart.” Dr. Woodlayson, you slay me.
***
we had great fun in TN. you should go with us sometime. there’s a restaurant called Wok & Roll. we did not eat there.
Ms. Toonces Whorecat seems excited to see me. she has managed to piss me off 4 times in the last 3 hours. i know she means well, but c’mon, i do not need a cat attached to my boobs.
get. off. my. boobs.
***
i watched the first 3 eps of Alias this evening. laura and cakehole had rented them.
eh.
during the opening credits of the first episode i was pleasantly surprised to see it was plain and just names and not some rehashing voice over and montage. “how cool.” i said.
then the second episode came on.
rehashing voice over AND montage.
oh, and the gratuitous chick tunes throughout? shut up.
hey look, i love sinead o’connor, i do. no really, i do. but c’mon, “no man’s woman” did not belong in that scene. hell, it didn’t belong in that episode. i’m not saying you couldn’t use it in a different episode, just not that one, ever.
i want to like the show, but i’m already confused and i’m not sure i can be unconfused. because all the guys look the same. and there’s 3 agencies? why? why are there 3?
i get the CIA. and i get that there’s a “bad” agency. but…then in ep 3 there’s another “bad” agency? wha? hello? just call them russians or chinese or croatian or whatever, but don’t tell me that there are 2 independent “bad” very organized international crime agencies.
perhaps this will all make sense tomorrow when i watch the other CD with the other episodes.
see? half full, i swear.
1.20.05
mr. fleegan and i saw House of the Flying Daggers last night. i enjoyed it. it was pretty and colorful and violent and had flying martial arts moves and was in Mandarin.
we were the only two people at the show. that’s only happened to us one other time, when we saw House of 1000 Corpses. what is it about movies with house in the title?
anyway, i was glad we were the only ones there because i tend to say things during movies like, “what the hell?” “they’re gonna die, you know.” “he’s playing her. but the thing is, she is TOTALLY playing him, and he doesn’t know it. so really, he’s not playing her at all.” “you realize that they have to die, right?” “it was a trick! he didn’t throw the knife!” “this movie is too long.”
for real, if they had cut 20 minutes out of that movie, i’d give it two thumbs up. as it is, it gets one.
also, the HotFD Theme Song, or whatever (it goes like, “bing bong bong ping yang ting bing bonnnng”) totally sounded like the theme from the Godfather, only with chinese instruments.
****
tomorrow is friday. and on friday i am going to TN to visit my little bro, Hoostin. we are going to sit around and watch stoopid movies and play video games! yay! for two days! yay yay!
this means that there’ll be no weekend blogging.
so i’ll leave you with some Reefer Log fun: (over 200 searches included “free, n_ked, p_rn, l_dies, g_rls, p_ctures, b_ack, old, young”. every combination possible. internet, you amuse me. perverts, you don’t.) sorry it’s such a huge list, but it’s so crazy, and like i say, i’ve had over 200 since tuesday of just p_rn crap alone. it’s been a busy week at fleegan.com so far i’ve been able to help none of these people:
how do i light up a pickle
what’s a pickle
ours is not to reason why
download cell phone porn (is there such thing?)
me llamo
fluorescent kitchen ceiling light (is the kitchen fluorescent? the ceiling?)
new orleans adult night life
hello kitty tattoo
cats are called
loud cars
bag o stuff
create a fart (GASP! how cool is that?!)
shut the f*ck up wav
tattoos pitchers (the whole pitcher/picture thing irritates me to no end, and then, just when i’m feeling all smart and awesome, someone searches for:
waether.com (damn you, instant karma…that i don’t even believe in!)
cell phone used in eurotrip
kid song
crazy irish tattoos
skanks
pickle cartoons
ass hole
ass smoking (jimmy and i had the same response to this one.)
haunted super target
sanrio tattoos
smoking crack around children
10 reason for why i hate you
bananas make my stomach hurt why
how to help someone get off crack
news for perverts (like, naked news?)
raggedy ann and andy bag
how much is the hello kitty cell phone (the one with the waggly tail!?)
dolls made from kids pictures
the tallest person on earth
barbie dealers japan
jp and the cats
foodnetwork
antimatter cartoons (wow. sounds hilarious.)
hello i’m in your monitor
greek songs to listen
scissors cartoons
jimmy greek
watch forced witness girlfriend (this is a disturbing combo of words to me.)
cops gone bad
all fart (a statement…or a command? things to ponder.)
who invented tranquilizers
information on barbies
plus size strip clubs
how to describe can opener
bro modcore
toonces
adult free pitchers of cartoons
free good home
tmobile pictures.com
spaghetti o’s
voices of new orleans
tattoo bumps
whoa, slow down Internet!
i’m not sure which one was my favorite, probably ass smoking. no wait, create a fart! totally!
1.19.05
while you have a point (OT), yes, i could just e-mail you, i’m still gonna reply on the blog because
A. you keep calling me a bedwetter and
B. i never invited anyone over to swim because well, i just never thought about it. maybe ‘cos i had a brother and we played ALL THE TIME.
i predict in two days the reefer log will show someone searched for bedwetter and got here.
the searches for naked things are starting to creep me out. people are weird. i hate people.
dirty dirt holes.
****
conversation with dad.
have i mentioned that dad sometimes calls me Paint Monkey (in reference to SNL’s Bathroom Monkey)? usually if he needs more paint in his pan he’ll say, “hey Paint Monkey, i need more paint.” and that’s my cue to go and pour paint from my bucket into his pan. i hate that.
but, we cannot choose the nicknames we get, can we? nay, i daresay if we could there would be a billion tall people who would NOT have the nick of Tiny, and there’s about 9 million edwards who would not be Fast Eddie.
he loves doing that because it’s like he’s talking down to me and that makes him feel big and awesome. i know this because one day i was actually doing the rolling (doesn’t happen often, he’s much better at rolling and i’m tops at trimming.) and i needed paint and hollered, “hey Paint Monkey! i need more paint!” and he was all, “heh, you feel big and important, huh?” and i was all, “just pour the paint, Paint Monkey.”
i’ve mentioned we laugh a lot?
well, today i missed a spot above a doorway and dad was all, “Paint Monkey! you missed a spot! you missed a spot!” and proceeded to “talk down” to the Paint Monkey. he does that ‘cos he knows it gets a rise outta me.
“*sigh* i’ll get it in a second.”
“i can’t believe you messed up like that!”
“shut up shut up! i said i’ll get it in a second!”
“i was so close to being able to finishing this and now i have to wait on Paint Monkey’s mistake…”
“you know,” slam the ladder, “i hate,” slam slam, “when you do this!” slam.
“uh oh, is Paint Monkey PMSing?”
“ARG! NO! i’m just saying,” slam. adjust the ladder. climb the ladder loudly and huffy, “that you make a big deal out of my every mistake. you’re a sick human being.”
“yeah, but Paint Monkey missed a spot…”
“ye-es. and if you noticed, the world did not stop spinning!” huff, huff. fix mistake. grumble. “in fact, this will not affect your 5 Year Plan in ANY WAY.”
“uh oh. Paint Monkey has an attitude.”
“no, Paint Monkey has a philosophy.”
i know i make it sound like dad is an ass (because he is), but when he makes a mistake i totally point and yell about it. so we’re even. in fact, when he makes a mistake, his nickname is Crack Baby. so maybe Paint Monkey isn’t so bad.
MONKEY HATE PAINT.
1.18.05
omg! the OT talked about Mrs. Stanley! ha! she drove a blue tank (that she had no business driving.) and also had blue hair. now true, my hair has been blue, more than once, but hers? wasn’t supposed to be blue. and it was. so blue. she was one of the Old Ladies that i feared while growing up. other old ladies whom i feared:
kelly siebert (the donut hole nazi. lived to be 94 years old.)
Mrs. Hooker (no not that one, her mother-in-law)(she was actually a witch. she ate kids.)
The Cat Lady (probably not a witch. but still, all those cats.)
My Grandma (burned me with a cig everytime i sat in her lap)
Aunt Laura (who was actually not an aunt, but was an old lady at the church who was evil.)
i’m sure there were more as that church was filled with mean old people when i was a kid.
*****
we finally finished painting at The House. it only took two solid months.
*****
i hate tmobile.
turns out, i don’t have moblie 2 mobile minutes. WTF?
lucy, you’ve got some ‘splaining to do!
1.17.05
my reefer log has been packed with requests for naked pictures of all kinds.
YOU PERVERTS LOOKING FOR PICTURES OF OLD NAKED LADIES MAKE ME SICK.
but you criminals looking up the ones with children? there’s a special section in hell for you. consider yourselves reported.
happy birfday. more reefer log for you, OT (but i’d like to take a moment to say THAT I WAS NOT A BEDWETTER YOU, SLUT) ALSO, ahem, also, did i trash your fort? if i did then i am sorry, but i really don’t think that i would’ve written “fuck you” on your fort. oh. oh wait. was that your fort? because i thought it was that prat who lived up the street, what was his name? jud? i totally killed his fort. he was a load.
reefer log:
f*ck old ladies*
worlds largest pickle
porn pitchers**
how to make rag dolls
pictures of loretta lynn
hello kitty bathroom painting
wookie
smoking crack
hello i’m trapped in your monitor
beat fatty***
how to make a chimichanga**** try www.foodnetwork.com
peanut butter and jelly pictures
killer fart cartoons*****
swiss porn
how to make raggedy ann dolls
trinidad lemon pickles
i wonder if you’re listening******
tallest person in the world*******
pickle tattoos
hello kitty tattoos
wonder years jets jacket********
*hey! respect your elders, jerkhole!
**Rollie Fingers? i actually had one of his cards. i loved it ‘cos of his awesome mustache.
***okay, that one made me laugh. i don’t know why.
****i say chimichanga ONCE and immediately this crap starts up.
***** i wish i had killer fart cartoons on my site.
******mmm, probably not. i’m listening to loretta lynn.
*******i know her!
********i never watched that show.
the internet is broken.
1.15.05
WANTED: young man single and free
experience in love preferred
but will accept a young trainee*
FREE CAT: to good home
adult female
answers to the name Toonces, Kitty, Pretty Cat, Princess Kitty, Bitch, Bitch Hole, Douche Bag, Fukker, Dumbass, What Are You Doing?, Shit For Brains, I Hate You!, Tooncerino, Tooncey Von Tooncenhiemer, Crack Head, Dork, Jerk, Piss Vomit, and Dirty ****.
NEEDED: elephant tranquilizers.
LOST: my mind. last seen on Fairview Rd.
small and shiny, answers to the name Chimichanga.
LOST: my smaller Ayn Rand books.
where are they?
LOST: my parents’ pair of scissors
last seen: 1984
FOUND: stray cat. female.
she’s been here since 1996.
someone please come get her!
WANTED: lessons on how to speak Greek
NEEDED: glass casserole dish
LOST: the fight to not consume so much caffeine in a 4 hour period.
*song is in my head! get it out! get. it. out!
1.14.05
the reefer log has just been swamped with searches for pickle batteries, hello kitty tattoos/designs/bedroom/pictures/who cares, peanut butter and jelly songs and irish pronunciation .wavs for things like fart and potatoes. what in the world? also, ron burgundy?
Reefer Log:
pickle’s day out
i love pickles shirt
fire bad beer good metallica*
ron burgundy
naked pictures**
hello kitty pitchers***
loretta lynn
how to blow up a pickle
naked girl pictures****
snacky things for adult and kids in japan
feed her in the ass*****
free naked pictures
fart
naked black girl pictures******
new orleans strip clubs
www.waether.com*******
*what is this about?
**can you be more specific?
***stay in school
****okay, that’s more specific
*****what?! what does that even mean?! no! nevermind. i don’t want to know.
******ah ha! now the truth of your searches comes out! you dirty, dirty person.
*******i like when my mistakes come back and laugh in my face. waether, indeed.
1.13.05
my brother got to come home from the hospital today. he sounds great. he was talking to me while he was waiting on mom to pick him up and he said, “jaimie, i haven’t been outside for a whole week.”
“well, i don’t know how to put this…”
“what?”
“it’s just that…things have changed since the last time you were outside.”
“uh…how? is the sky purple?”
“i’m not gonna sugar coat this okay? it’s the trees.”
“the trees?”
“yeah, the trees. they’re… gone.”
“all of them?”
“yes. and i told mom and dad to tell you but they were all, “no! we can’t tell justin about the trees. he’s got so much on his mind as it is.” and i was all, “you better tell him about the trees or he’s gonna be pissed!” and they were all, “maybe he won’t even notice.” and i was all, “yeah, maybe if he was blind.” they think you’re a dumbass or something.”
he laughs.
“just remember that i wanted to tell you about the trees, but mom and dad were all,” ixnay on the ees tray.”
more laughing.
“i don’t know if they think you’re an idiot, or if they just like lying to you. they made me promise not to tell you. personally, i think they took the trees. they’re acting guilty anyway.”
i eventually stopped making up stuff.
poor justin, math genius, forced to listen to his blithering, half-witted sister.
my brother is way more awesomer than your brother.
*****
because of a certain jerkhole cell phone company, the word singular looks misspelled to me. nnnyargh!
1.12.05
hm. now what was i going to tell you about today? i cannot remember.
i crapped 7 times today. what is my problem?
*****
the assjack wastes of white skin that live across the street from me had some guests this evening. apparently they were having a disagreement. about what i have no idea. i can only speculate that it had something to do with either someone’s “ho” or some type of smokable drug. they proceeded to shout obscenities at each other intermingled with threats. it went on for 10 or 15 minutes.
i am going to have to buy a video camera. drug dealers have the best arguements.
jimmy and i sat quietly eating our dinner (hot dogs!) and saying things like, “i wonder if we should call the police?” “nah, let ’em kill each other. the property value will go up.” “you want to go on the front porch and watch?” “i suppose screaming ‘I’M GONNA FUCK YOU UP!’ would be considered disturbing the peace, right?” “does white trash beget white trash? it’s gotta be in the genes, right?“
or maybe we didn’t say those things. maybe i was saying them in my head. and really, i’m not so mean and hateful that i would really want them to shoot each other. wait. no, yes i am.
Dear Drug Dealer Ass Hole Neighbors,
I hate you and your loud cars. I hate that you drive your loud cars too fast down the street (watch out for kitties!), and that you sometimes drive it really fast and loud in REVERSE. THAT IS SO STUPID AND DANGEROUS. I think you should know that if i had the power to shoot laser beams out of my eyes, you and your skanks and your “friends” and your “friends’ cousins” and your girlfriend’s clients and ALL the cars would be graveyard dead a la my Evil Eye. And I would not feel remorse for you death, nay, I would feel justified! And THAT is why God won’t let me have laser beam eye balls. You jerks ruin everything!
Die,
Jaimie Pickle
1.11.05
today was much like yesterday in that they both sucked citrus flavored razor blades. they sucked in different ways because where yesterday i was effective, today i was ineffective, like a toilet with no flush, an envelope without a stamp, or the University of Alabama’s football team.
they sucked in similar ways in that they were filled with general suckiness, and at 2pm (on both days) i shit myself.
“jaimie, what do you mean-”
i mean. that at precisely 2pm. on monday and tuesday. of this week. i. shit. myself.
thank you, good night.
“but-”
no buts. ours not to reason why.
FOR THERE IS NO REASON.
IT IS A FACT, THAT ON BOTH DAYS I TOOK A CRAP AT 1:57PM. FINISH MY BUSINESS. GO ON WITH MY DAY AND KABLOOIE, AS SOON AS I GET TO THE STOP SIGN. APPARENTLY MY BOWELS ARE INTO BEING ON AN EXACT TIME TABLE THIS WEEK. MUCH LIKE HOW THE AMTRACK WORKS.
oh, i’m sorry. was that too much information?
i finished another book.
1.10.05
today was a horrible day, but it was a good horrible day. sort of. i’ll not go into details because it would take way too long and probably not make any sense to normal people like you.
i’m reading another one of the god books laura gave me. it’s pretty good. i’ll probably finish it tonight so i’ll probably get to brog about it tomorrow on the 50 Books link.
i have used the word probably 3 times so far. what is the matter with me?
today i stopped at a gas station to buy a beverage for work.
i get out of the car and this guy comes up to me (he looked a little younger than me) and he says, “excuse me ma’am, do you have a quarter i could have?”
now the thing is, he’s like, my brother’s age, right? he called me ma’am.
what a respectable young gentleman!
except he had a black eye and had obviously had the crap beat out of him.
i totally gave him a quarter.
he said thanks, and then he said, “are you painting today?”
my jacket and coveralls are covered in paint splatters.
“yes i am.”
“do you need any help?”
“no. i’m sorry.”
“okay, well thanks for the quarter.”
“you’re welcome.”
i was going to ask if he needed a ride somewhere, but i didn’t. because i knew that everyone i know would have killed me if i had done that. and probably (4) with good reason.
jimmy freaked out when i told him, “what?! NO! DO NOT GIVE RIDES TO STRANGERS.”
“i know. i didn’t.”
“yeah, this time.”
“but. but. *sigh* i know.”
I AM A FOOL. AND ONE DAY YOU’LL COME BACK TO THIS WEBSITE AND LAURA WILL HAVE POSTED A MESSAGE SAYING: SORRY, BUT THERE WILL BE NO MORE FLEEGAN.COM AS JAIMIE WAS A TOTAL MORON AND GAVE A KILLER A RIDE. SHE DESERVED WHATEVER SHE GOT.
1.09.05
i have taken down the forever broken Goodie Bag link and added the 50 Books in 2005 link.
1 down, 49 to go.
cake hole bought a water balloon sling-shot. i’ll say no more on that subject on the grounds that it might incriminate me and 8 other people. of course, if something did happen we were going to blame it on west, since he’s still a minor. always good to have a plan.
*****
i watched the mayor of sunset strip last night. it’s a documentary type movie. it was good, but it made me sad and i felt bad for that guy. it had some funnyish parts, but no, it’s mostly sad. there’s tons of famous music people in it. still, sad. i’m glad i watched it though.
1.08.05
i had this long update. but it was pretty graphic intensive. so i made it a weekly.
laura, i know you could’ve made an awesome graphic for it. but i was so excited that i wanted to go ahead a post it. if you want to make a real graphique for it that would be cool. mine sucks wookie.
1.07.05
life is a mystery. everyone must stand alone.
*********
i am addicted to red rope licorice.
********
i don’t like using the term “jet black” to describe something that is darker than “regular black” because i don’t think that jets are actually black, they are more silver gray. besides, how did people describe something that was blacker than black before jets were invented?
*******
what? the ‘jet’ part is referring to a type of glossy black stone called jet?
oh.
that makes more sense. thanks dictionary!
******
did anyone else grow up thinking that Raggedy Ann and Andy were little clown children, only to find later that they were not human at all but were in fact, rag dolls?
*****
was anyone else afraid of the kite-eating tree in the Peanuts cartoons?
****
i am not a fan of mint flavored things. i prefer cinnamon.
***
i haven’t had a beer since last saturday.
**
i downloaded a Pearl Jam song yesterday and never listened to it. i must go do that.
*
i hear you call my name and it feels like home.
1.06.05
from this site i found out about this and i think it’s a great idea so i think i too, shall try to read 50 books in 2005 and blog about them. seeing as how there’s only going to be 52 weeks this year (hee) that sounds like a really difficult thing to accomplish. but i’m going to make it easier on me. ‘cos i’m going to count my Cabinet magazines and Granta, seeing as how they are fairly bookish (in size) and i read them cover to cover. and seeing as how they are quarterly journal or whatnot, that will only count as 8 books so don’t be a whiner about this, okay?
books i plan on reading:
house of leaves by MZD. again. i know. shut up.
dante’s inferno the hollanders’ translation
jonathan strange and mr. norrell by susanna clarke (i cannot get into this book! rgh!)
a couple of god books laura gave me
beowulf the heaney trans.
the newer patricia cornwell scarpetta novel. trace? something.
*****
two days ago i had a dream that my friends and i went to an art museum, and while i was there i picked up a brochure about the exhibit we were seeing (can’t remember what it was) and then we went out to the parkinglot and smoked. as i was smoking my cigarette i noticed that it tasted not like tobacco but more like poison and metal. i looked down and oh my gosh! it was a crackpipe! “oh my god! you guys! we’re smoking crack! where did we get crack?! holy shit! i took a hit off a crackpipe! what is going to happen to me?! did you know this was crack?!” i freaked out. my friends took it a lot better. “really? huh.” and “i thought these cigarettes tasted funny.” (that one was danny. yes, laugh. because that is SO funny.) well, i thought i’d get really high or something, but in the dream nothing really happened except i got these bumps all over my face, and my friends told me they were called crack bumps, and then the dream skips to a week later when i’m opening up my mail. i got a letter from the museum and it says that i’ve been fired because i failed a drug test. i was outraged.
“what?! i worked there?! i didn’t know i had a job at the museum!!! drug test?! you’re kidding me!! goddamn crack!”
1.05.05
a new weekly!
also: hello kitty tattoo!
reefer log:
cats called pickle
irish saying fart wav
pickle’s book
www.wetpantyporn.com
antimatter bomb&location
pickle battery light
cell phone motorola unable to charge
eurotrip fboys porn site
download ron burgundy wav
hello kitty bedroom stuff
pickle’s work
naked pictures of old ladies
free pu$$y
loretta lynn grammies
pictures of naked old ladies
welldone, internet. you idiot.
1.04.05
true story.
i made a friend today at the library.
as i was filling out an information card at the library today (for my avl library card. dumbest thing ever. just gimmie a password and we’ll move on, okay? don’t try to make this all cool and official, it’s a database not government secrets. idiotas!). and there’s this mom and kid standing next to me checking out some books. the little boy says, “hi.”
i look over to see if he’s talking to me and he was looking at me so i guess he was talking to me so i say, “hey.”
“what’s your name?”
“my name is jaimie. what’s yours?”
“ethan.”
“well, hi ethan. nice to meet you.”
“nice to meet you too.”
and i go back to filling out the “tedious” info card.
“friends?” he asks.
the hell? is he asking if we can be friends? i’ll never see this kid ever again. oh what the hey.
“of course.” i reply.
back to the info card.
“i’m seven years old.”
“really? wow. you’re pretty tall for seven.”
“yeah. i’m the tallest person at my school.”
it was here that the mom finally said something. “come on it’s time to go.” she grabbed his hand and they walked to the exit.
“bye, jaimie!” he said and waved.
huh. this kid is odd. “bye, ethan!” i replied. waving like a dork.
it was a really sweet moment and i thought about it all day.
but also? it’s crazy. because things like that happen to me all the time WHEN I AM ALONE. except this time the librarian was there to witness it. but i don’t think she cared. i think she was pissed that we were talking in our regular voices and not our Library Voices. however, she should know that 7 year olds DO NOT HAVE A LIBRARY VOICE. so while his mom was dragging him out of the library his, “BYE, JAIMIE!” rang throughout the whole ‘brary. heh.
point of interest (but not really): while i was thinking about this incident all day long, i kept thinking of the dialogue. it was so short and sweet and it had just enough non sequitur in it that it reminded me of the stupid dialogue they teach you in your high school spanish class. (did your class have those audio tapes? with those cheesey voices? and the whole time you’re listening to Manuel y Julio (or whoever) you KNOW that that is not how they really talk. because IN NO LANGUAGE OR CULTURE has anyone ever said, “hello my name is Manuel. this is my blue pen and red book. would you like to walk in the garden?” so you don’t pay attention to the lessons because, hello, these people are stupid small sentence talkers and why is it that they act like wrestling is a real sport? but you managed to get a B in the class despite your stupid high school brain, and it’s only years later that you can truly appreciate the humor of:
“hola.”
“hola.”
“como te llamas?”
“me llamo jaimie. y tu?”
“me llamo ethan. amigos?”
“por supuesto!”
“soy siete años.”
“¿verdad? usted es alto.”
“si. soy el mas alto en la escuela.”
“adios, jaimie!”
“adios, ethan.”
this entry seemed too long for the blog yet too short for a weekly.
1.03.05
still working at The House. it’s sad and depressing. we hate it now, more than last week.
dad says, “jaimie, please fire me.”
“what? oh. am i Boss this week?”
“yeah.”
“i hate being Boss.”
“me too.”
“well, Mr. Pickle, i’ve been reading through your file, and i’m afraid i’ve got some bad news.”
“i’m fired?”
“worse, you’ve been promoted to Boss.”
“NOOOOOoooooooo!”
1.02.05
i’m sure you’re all wondering what i did for New Year’s Eve/New Year’s Day.
no?
really?
okay then.
on NYD i hung around the duplex all day and did silly things like straighten up the house a bit, read, and download songs. dad came over and attached my BRAND NEW can opener to the bottom of my cabinet (it’s a SPACE SAVER KIND OF CAN OPENER. GLORY! NO LONGER WILL I HAVE TO USE MY SWISS ARMY KNIFE TO OPEN MY DELICIOUS CANS OF SPAGHETTI O’S. MY FRIENDS LOVE ME SO MUCH THEY BOUGHT ME A CAN OPENER FOR CHRISTMAS. WHY I HADN’T BOUGHT ONE BEFORE THAT, THE WORLD MAY NEVER KNOW.) and then he put up a ceiling fan in my kitchen. which means i have REAL LIGHT in my kitchen now. it’s so bright and wonderful. i can see all the dirt now. long story short: the electricians had originally installed a fluorescent light in the kitchen. it didn’t work very well. it mainly just blinked and flickered and made the house look haunted. so i got a free ceiling fan from some awesome friends, but i needed some kind of “magic bracket” to hang it and i didn’t have one but i did have another light fixture that dad put up for me until i got a “magic bracket” (kris bought one for me.), but it was a hall light kind of fixture meaning it put out like 4 lumens. very not bright at all. but now? the fan is up. my kitchen is well-lit. the earth? she spins.
so dad borrowed a ladder and was off to help someone else install something. when he brought the ladder back later that day, he saw laura and i going through her old Barbies and Jem dolls. also, i was juggling with my awesome juggle clubs.
other things that was going on around the duplii: kris and zach were putting tile in brad&cindy’s kitchen, and jimmy, liz, chris, and west were watching THE WHOLE FARKING LORD OF THE RINGS TRILOGY EXTENDED VERSIONS ON DVD.
later that night i talked to dad to thank him once again for installing my fan and can opener, and he says, “all i know is, i come back with a ladder, and there’s construction going on in one house, a bunch of nerds watching movies all day in another, you and laura are in the middle of the yard playing Barbies and juggling.”
“hmm, just another day on the commune, dad.”
“and? down the street? some guy was about to be arrested by Super Cops.”
“super cops?”
“yeah, they had their sleeves rolled up til they bulged and had on those black gloves.”
“ah, the ‘hold their gun sideways when they point it at the bad guy’ cops.”
“yeah, they looked like they were ready to kick some poor sucker’s ass.”
“wow.”
“i felt like i was in a commercial.”
“yeah! like for Pringles or something! like here we are all doing different things…but we’re all eating Pringles!”
“uh, i was thinking more like for insurance or something. like a whole chain reaction starting with the mild construction and escalating to the movie watchers.”
“oh. i see. yeah. that’s actually pretty good.”
“yeah, but it would be really hard to get it all on the camera, plus noone would believe that the situation could ever happen.”
“why, ‘cos of the Barbies?”
“the whole thing was surreal, jaimie.”
“really? it didn’t seem that weird to me. besides, you played with laura’s Barbies too.”
and he did. he picked up one of the Jem dolls and was all, “what the? this Barbie is purple!”
and laura was like, “yeah that’s a Jem-”
“what, is she like, New Orleans Whore Barbie?”
“dad-”
then he talks in a muppety girl voice, “hey mista, for twenty-five dolla i do whateva you want.”
“dad, no. put the doll down.”
Dear Reality T.V.,
Sitting on a goldmine over here!
Call me,
JP
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The One About The Best $12 I Ever Spent
January 08, 2005
hi kids,
i still can’t believe it. even though i was there. even though i saw everything (how could you look away?). even though i heard and smelled it all. i still can’t believe it.
i went to a
MONSTER TRUCK SHOW!!!!
i know. me too. but it’s true.
the scary thing is, i had a really good time.
laura, kris, kristie, zach, mr. fleegan and i were in attendance.
we screamed. we cheered. we mostly laughed.
i was confused about the whole “scoring” proceedure. how can they tell who “wins”? are the trucks racing? is it who crushes the cars the “best”? is it who gets the most air?
i…i dunno. this “sport” needs clearer rules and such.
kristie and i immediately chose Monster Mutt as our favorite.
guess where i got this pic from?
it has floppy ears! and a tongue! and i don’t know how the driver does it, but this truck bounces and flops around like a puppy! it is CRAZY. it’s…it’s cute. i know. me too. but it is.
aw, wook at da puppy smashums the cars. awww…
kris cheered for Grave Digger because he’s 10 years old.
stole this pic from here.
and laura, whom i just knew would like the cute wittle Monster Mutt because, hello, it’s a truck that’s a dog and it flops around! how could that not be the one to cheer for?
she liked the ninja turtle truck. the hell? you think you know someone…
stole this from here
sadly, no one gave a rat’s ass about this truck
in fact, cheers of, “the hell?! get off the track you bum! we want the dog! RAAAAAAAAAAH!!” could be heard. because that’s what i was screaming.
yeah, hi.
it was a crazy show, but odd ‘cos there was a scooter race (they weren’t scooters but i don’t know what those things are called. it was like a 4-wheeled motorcycle. oh, a 4-wheeler? maybe?) and it was stupid and they tried to make it all serious, when in fact, no one cared. and? it was a bad example for the kids because it had two members of the same team start fighting and beating each other up. not a good lesson for kids.
do you know what was a good lesson for the kids?
me, screaming til my throat cracked and then lubing it with beer so i could scream some more. see kids, beer is our friend. it soothes our sore throats when we scream at stupid giant trucks with floppy ears.
then there was a part where this komatsu crane dressed like a dragon came out and killed the shit out of a pontiac or something. kind of weird, but also it was interesting. no wait, that was stupid wasn’t it? “the hell?! get that shit outta here! we want the dog! RAAAAAAAAAAH!”
and during the intermission a guy played saxophone. guess what? that made about as much sense as Dr. Laura emcee-ing a gay pride parade. i mean, the guy was totally over-dressed for such an event. he was playing on A MOUND OF DIRT. IN DRESS SHOES. the least he could’ve done was WEAR A DIRTY BALL CAP.
i wish i could’ve interviewed him.
“so what was it like to play your sweet, sculptural music to an arena filled with 9 year olds and rednecks? do you feel over-dressed? what about that truck that looks like a dog, huh? is that not awesome?!”
at one point during the Saxophone Intermission of Deadly Oxymoronic Proportions, mr. fleegan yelled, “play some Skynyrd!” and we laughed, thus completing our redneck metamorphosis for the day.
meanwhile, some other ass hat was yelling, “the hell? get that saxophone bum outta here! we want the dog! RAAAAAAAAHH!!”
next week’s epitomb: god, i hope it’s pro wrestling
jaimie “the ticket was $12. the beer was $6. EACH.” pickle
Leave a Comment | PermalinkTags: cakehole, laura, mr. fleegan
The One About I Smell Dead People
Category: weekleez
The One About I Smell Dead People
January 06, 2005
hi kids,
i live the crazy life. la vida loca. that’s me all over. never a dull moment. (dear god, please. a dull moment? please? for me? amen.)
so we paint at the the Holy House today. we get the key for the room and it’s one of the small units. it only has one room, a kitchen, and a bathroom. how easy. we can paint one of those units in two hours. we are good, no?
now, i’ve mentioned a million times how this apartment complex is for older people only (62 and up). but have i mentioned that sometimes the old people, they die? usually though, they die in a hospital and not in the actual apartment. and it doesn’t really bother me to paint a dead person’s apartment. mostly because i didn’t know the person. i assume it’s going to be harder to paint the apartment of one of the ones i’ve met and talked to on a weekly basis, like willadean and ms. sue.
okay, i’ll be honest, when i find out we’re painting the unit of a person who has died my first question is, “they didn’t die in the room did they?!” to which the boss (tinley) always, always, always says, “no, jaimie. they had a heart attack, went to the hospital and died there.” or something to that effect. so now, i’m never really concerned about the dead people.
but today. today was different.
we go to get the key to the room and the Key Guy was all, “oh, you need the key to the dead guy’s room?”
and dad is all, “uh. yeah.” then he looks at me and says, “i wasn’t going to tell you about that ‘cos i knew you’d freak out.”
“he died?”
“yeah.”
“well that’s okay. we’ve painted dead people rooms before.”
“uh. yeah. you’re right.”
we get to the room and open the door and oh holy lord. that? is a smell i’ll not soon forget.
“oh my god *cough*. this guy had a urine problem. *gag* and some other kind of problem. what’s that other smell?”
“i guess they put new carpet in, huh?”
“windows. *gag* i’m opening the windows.”
“i guess the guy hadn’t lived here too long. there’s no holes in the walls or anything.”
“jesus. this place *cough* needs more windows. more air. what was wrong with this poor guy?”
“even the kitchen walls aren’t too bad.”
“why were the windows closed?! this place needs fresh air! *hack* i don’t think they’ve cleaned in here.”
“the closet is perfect. i’m not going to paint the closet.”
“are you high?! can you not smell this, this, smell?!”
“yeah, it’s not as bad as i thought it was going to be though.”
“what? why did you think it was going to smell bad?”
“well, at least they put new carpet in.”
“you didn’t answer my question. why did you think it was going to smell bad?”
“well…”
“oh god. there was a dead body in here.”
“um, yeah.”
“how long?”
“i wasn’t going to tell you about this.”
“how. long.”
“five or six days.”
“OH FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! NO WONDER IT STINKS SO BAD! SWEET JESUS HAS EVERYTHING BEEN DISINFECTED OR WHATEVER?! I AM GOING TO HURL. HOW DARE YOU TRY TO KEEP A SECRET LIKE THIS FROM ME! GERMS! DEATH GERMS! ARGHH! NO! THIS IS DIRTY! THE AIR IS BAD! EEEEEEEEW! IT’S SO BAD!”
“see, this is why i wasn’t going to tell you.”
“you can’t not tell me something like this! did you think i’d come up here and not know that something was different about this room? jesus this smell. i can’t even imagine how bad it must’ve been when they found the guy.”
“no kidding.”
“who found him?”
“tinley.”
“poor tinley.”
“yeah, but hell, she worked at a funeral home for 15 years.”
“yes but also? THOSE PLACES ARE LIKE, DISINFECTED AND CLEAN. THIS IS DIRTY. DIRTY DEATH PISS SMELL. EVERYWHERE! IT’S IN MY HAIR AND CLOTHES! GET IT OFF ME! HELP! I CAN’T BREATHE!”
“i knew you’d have a cow.”
“i? am not having a cow. i? am just expressing my shock and awe.”
later on dad starts talking about how we need to invent an additive to paint that makes the smell of death (for such occassions) disappear.
“dad, i’m sure they’ve got stuff like that. probably something that crime scene clean-up crews use.”
“yeah, but it would be better if we could invent it.”
“uh huh.”
“‘cos then we’d get the money for it.”
“yeah.”
“‘cos right now? it smells like someone painted a dead guy in here.”
“you? are going to hell.”
“yeah, but you’re laughing.”
later, later on:
“dad?! can you come in here?” i yell from the kitchen.
dad comes in, “yeah? what is it?”
“i heard you light a cigarette. can you please smoke it in here? the smoke is so refreshing.”
“you’re a big baby.”
later, later, later on the Carpet Guy shows up to put new linoleum down in the kitchen.
“wow,” he says, “it smelled even worse in here yesterday.”
“i am so sorry.” i say, “i can’t imagine what it smelled like with the old carpet in here.”
“oh no. there wasn’t any carpet in here. they removed that before i got here.”
“oh wow. that says a lot.”
“yeah.”
so anyway. death, when left for a couple of days, has a smell. an organic smell of urine and something else…something familiar yet, like nothing you’ve ever smelled before. it’s the kind of smell where you try not to open your mouth ‘cos it gets stuck in the back of your throat making that delicious cup of perfectly brewed 100% colombian coffee taste like a cup of dead colombian. or something. i don’t know. all i know is that i’m just a simple house painter. and a girl. and as such i? SHOULD NOT BE PAINTING IN CORPSE PISS URINE DEATH ROOMS OF NASTINESS. I’VE GOT A COLLEGE DEGREE FOR CHRIST’S SAKE! WHAT AM I DOING?! I’M NOT KAY FUCKING SCARPETTA HERE! I’M AN ARTIST! I’M SENSITIVE TO THIS KIND OF THING! THE SMELL WAS HUMAN! THAT? THAT NASTY SMELL OF PISS DEATH URINE ROT? THAT’S WHAT HUMANITY SMELLS LIKE. AAAAAARRRRGH!
i’m going to go take another shower. the smell is everywhere.
next week’s epitomb: i see dead people. and they wanted me to tell you that the smell? isn’t their fault.
jaimie “la vida loca” pickle
Leave a Comment | PermalinkDecember 2004 Dribblings
Category: dribblings
12.31.04
laura made up these questions and is making all of us (cowboy, FA, this means you.) answer them because she hates us so much. it’s some kind of Year Review for 2004 Type Thing. isn’t she clever?
I freaked out the most this year when: some people who i don’t even know that well accused me of drinking too much/having a drinking problem/whatever, but not to my face. in fact, i still freak out about it when i think about it.
Best TV show I discovered this year: um, may i be exempt from this question? if i have to answer i guess i’d pick Good Eats with Alton Brown.
Favorite book I read this year: House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski
Favorite movie I saw this year: Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy what can i say, i am simple.
Biggest cinematic letdown: Meet the Fockers this movie? was not funny.
The earth spins backwards: when Lois Lane died and Superman ‘fixed it’. (laura, what does this question mean?)
The earth rights itself on its axis: harlem globetrotter style on god’s finger. (also, ???)
Things I am most pleased to have done this year: learn how to juggle clubs. (!!!) yay!
The thing that changed the most about me this year: i lost faith in the united states of ‘merka.
Why 2004 should burn in hell: because of all the physical pain i endured from february to september when they finally ripped my gall bladder out of my body and then charged me a fortune for doing so.
Bodily organ I’d rather have removed than live through this year again: no! no organ removal! non! nyet! stop! get away from me with that scalpel and assless gown! help! i’m being repressed!
Thing I’d most like to use to anally rape 2004: a cat, doctor, and/or the neighbors across the skreet.
Regrets? i’ve had a few.
but then again…
12.30.04
okay, so someone out there is a hilarious comedian. i checked the Reefer Log to see how the Hello Kitty Tattoo thing was going and i find that one of you searched for ‘here comes pickle with a sack of fleegan’. (i’m looking at you, OT. you may not have been the one who did it, but you probably did. if not, you should have.) but thank you so much because it made me laugh. and i really needed that laugh. also, your blog/journal/diary/whathaveyou has been one of my favorite things to read IN THE WHOLE WORLD, and i’ll tell you why. you talk about orgasms and masturbation and i find it refreshing that you come up with things like ‘free pussy preparation’, masturhation, etc.
and? i totally want to have the OT Quote of the Day on my website. because you, OT, have the guts to say things like, “i was surpassed cos i’m not dangling a penis around and/or have my obsessive abilities focused on being the world champion of arkanoid. it’s all a sham.” and most recently, “i want to come home to hot meal and a clean house, and i want to beat my wife and move back to alabama and dream of “big city nights”.”
you have the best sentences.
</gushing>
****
oh my gosh. on iTunes you can get Wave of Mutilation-Best of the Pixies for $9.99….and you get all 23 songs! never has iTunes been that nice to me. in fact, usually iTunes is a total whore. case in point: i wanted to download the Essential Ozzy which has like, 30-something songs maybe? and i thought for sure i’d get some kind of “deal”. no. it was a purchase By Song Only. what? hey, iTunes, if i wanted to pay retail i’d pay retail. goat farkers.
reefer log:
olympus excersise bike
peanut butter and jelly that’s what i like in my
bedroom doors made in pickle color
here comes pickle with a sack of shit (ha)
here comes pickle with a sack of fleegans
Triscuit Rosemary and Olive Oil (mmm. i love those)
mortal kombat hotaru pictures
mortal kombat baraka kontroller
12.29.04
i wanted to keep the FREE MARTHA header up until martha got out of Rich People’s Prison, but then laura made me this awesome wookie header so there you go. when it comes to martha vs. wookie, i guess chewie wins.
*****
mom bought me some new coveralls for christmas because my other pair was really cheesy looking and also is covered in paint. i like the old ones because, well, they’re cheesy. they are lightweight too. mom got me the industrial ones. she wanted to get me the new ones so bad. she was so excited. so pleased to be able to find some that were short enough for me. so happy about the coveralls she is.
i look like Captain Super Dyke in them.
if i don’t use them it will break her heart.
i mean, even if i had long hair i would look like Captain Super Dyke in these things.
what would CSD’s super power be?
12.28.04
okay here we go. an experiment.
i have gotten way too many hits for Hello Kitty Tattoos lately. i don’t know why. i blame the internet and george w. bush. ‘cos lord knows that when clinton was in office i had not nary a hit for Hello Kitty Tattoos. so i told laura that she should put the words Hello Kitty Tattoo on her website to see if she got a bazzilion hits too. she came up with a better idea.
why not make a real page about Hello Kitty Tattoos and see how many hits it gets?
see, this is why laura is Costello and i’m Abbot. also, because she’s taller. and she’s not that funny.
hee.
so here’s the deal. any time i type Hello Kitty Tattoo it’ll be a link to the imaginary (yet real) Hello Kitty Tattoo page. sounds fun don’t it?
i’m thinking that this experiment will CHANGE THE WORLD.
*****
the other day Popsicle and i were listening to the radio and a local commercial for a church i’ve never heard of came on. this is not a strange thing seeing as how you cannot sling a dead wookie without hitting a church in this town/county/state. thing is, there was a lot of construction noise going on so Popsicle didn’t hear the commercial very well.
“jaimie, did they say Nolan Ryan Baptist Church?”
“what? oh my god. no, but i wish they had.”
“well, what did they say?”
“oh my gosh that is so funny! ‘come worship with the Ryan Express this sunday! don’t forget, Brother Ryan will be signing autographs after the service, for a love offering of course!'”
“heh.”
“and instead of communion waffers he uses Advil with the wine. oops, i mean grape juice. silly baptists.”
“oh yeah, he did hawk Advil didn’t he? well, what was the church’s name?”
“i shouldn’t tell you. because Nolan Ryan Baptist Church is so much better. you’ll be so disappointed.”
“jaimie-”
“ok fine. Goldenrod.”
“oh. yeah, that is disappointing.”
i hope that someday someone finds this site by googling Nolan Ryan Baptist Church. i think that would make my day.
12.27.04
the Reefer Log has been flooded with the same stoopid drivel. things like:
pickle poptarts
why do i smell like a pickle
a certain cartoon tattoo that shall go unnamed from now on (HKT) etc, etc.
but, the best search of all was:
here comes fatty with a sack of shit
i kid you not. and i have been saying that over and over in my head for two days. i say it when i answer the phone, i say it when the cat comes into the room, i sing it, i rap it in the shower, i sing it opera style, i say it with a british accent, jamaican accent, irish accent, german accent, french accent, italian-american gangster accent, and? i’ve turned it into a gregorian chant.
here comes fatty with a sack of shit
i told my dad about it. he was all, “is that on your site? did you actually say that?”
“no. never.”
“well, what does it mean?”
“i dunno. i kinda thought they meant santa claus.”
12.26.04
do you have a website?
do you want massive hits for your site?
then i suggest having the words “hell0 k1tty tatt00” somewhere on your site. only without the one and zeros.
*****
i saw a preview for the 3rd (6th?) star wars movie. this one might not be so bad ‘cos it’s got the real darth vader and wookies. lots of wookies. like remember how many ewoks there were? that’s how many wookies. maybe more.
my god, the wookies.
instead of “need more cowbell” it’s “need more wookies”.
wookie love.
wookie.
12.24.04
christmas eve! yay!
my cat is such a narcissist. there’s this mirror thing that’s been on the floor (leaning against the wall) in my room for a couple of months. i just haven’t figured out where to hang it yet. that silly cat goes to that mirror ALL THE TIME and just stares at herself. for long minutes.
12.23.04
i woke up this morning confused.
why is there a dirty sock in my mouth? and why do my ribs hurt? who beat the crap outta me? was i in a fight last night? i’m assuming the cat won.
i went to the bathroom and checked myself out in the mirror. first i noticed that only one eye would open, and it was quite squinty. i guess i slept on one side of my face for the whole night because one ear was plugged up (damn my ears. so faulty.) and my hair looked like i had styled it with some elmer’s glue and a mitre saw. oh god. the wine.
well, it’s good to know that 3 glasses of wine is all it takes to kill me. damn you, gall bladder. do you remember how many glasses of wine i had at liz’z wedding? do you? i had like, all of them. and i didn’t feel nearly as homeless as i did this morning after having 3 glasses last night. 3! and the first one was like, barely half full! so it was more like 2 and one half glasses of fermented grape poison.
i’ve never had a headache like this before. also, my ribs hurt. wha’ happened?
when i went to work this morning i was a zombie but we totally managed to paint the apartment in record time. i’m just that good. about an hour into work dad was all, “what’s the matter with you?” and i was all, “i’m hungover.”
“really?”
*sigh* “yeah. wine.”
“what were you guys celebrating last night?”
“celebrating?”
“yeah.”
“um. we were celebrating….dinnertime?”
“oh.”
“yeah. kinda impromptu.”
“everyone?”
“most everyone.”
“yikes.”
“i know. and on a wednesday night. we all had to get up and work today. i hope everyone else is doing okay.”
when we came back to my place at lunchtime i said, “uh oh.”
“what?”
“laura’s car is home.”
“did she have the day off?”
“i don’t think so.”
“ohh.”
“yeah. poor thing.”
note to selves: DON’T DRINK THAT MUCH WINE ON A WEEK NIGHT. WHAT? DO YOU THINK YOU’RE STILL YOUNG? YOU’RE NOT. YOU’RE OLD. AND YOU CAN’T GET AWAY WITH IT ANYMORE. SAVE IT FOR FRIDAY NIGHTS.
12.22.04
update: i had a some wine. and so i went to itunes and Heart has 2 new albums. one is christmas songs and one is regular songs. and then i saw an old album and was looking at the old album and then i saw that they do an version of Stairway to Heaven.
how did i not know that they did a version of Stairway?! me??! the last Heart fan on the face of the planet (my group of friends). i feel so bad for not knowing that.
she sounds just like robert plant doesn’t she?
****
would anyone care to have lunch with me today? you see, i have the day off, and i’m treating myself to a delectable lunch. something delicious. something decadent. i’m going to spoil myself. it is the holidays and all, and heaven knows i don’t spoil myself nearly as much as i should.
but oh wait, i’m having an awesome dinner tonight. a dinner that i don’t have to cook. it’s a chicken dish and promises to be the most wonderful thing i’ve put in my mouth all week. so i suppose my suitably wonderful lunch should not include chicken. i guess i should have a light lunch then. but wait, i want to spoil myself! i know i deserve a scrumtrelescent lunch, something positively divine!
you really should have lunch with me. it’s going to be thumbsucking good. i promise.
what’s that? it’s 2pm? you’ve already eaten lunch?
that’s too bad. i guess i’ll just have to eat my fabulous lunch all by myself. and since it’s just me i suppose i won’t eat at the table because, well, it’s just me. that’s okay. i’ll eat at my mouth-watering lunch at the computer.
oh? what am i having? well, i’ve decided on pasta with a mild tomato sauce and a light red wine. mmmm, sounds good doesn’t it?
hee.
what? oh sure, like i’m the only one?
yeah ok. the cat didn’t think it was funny either.
vous avez gaspillé un Beaujolais sur la Spaghetti O’s ?
vous êtes une abomination !
i hate when she yells at me in french.
12.21.04
i did a smidgeon of christmas shopping today. for jimmy. i went to 2 walmarts, kmart, a furniture store and finally big lots before i found the thing i was looking for. if you know this town and those stores then you know that i made a giant circle of the county (excepting southside). geezy peezy. all for one present! what could it be?! it’s probably something really great!
like those spinning hubcaps! sweet!
i only got to see jimmy for 10 seconds today. i miss him. does that make me a mushy-hearted fleegan? ‘cos i usually think of myself as hard-hearted and not very needy. perhaps i am only fooling myself here. but probably not. i am cruel and heartless, and these foreign emotions must be from all the sugar i ate today. except that i really am just fooling myself and i actually do have real feelings as i am no longer a wooden puppet but was turned into a real girl when i stopped telling all those lies. and i just miss jimmy, okay? i think that’s okay.
okay?
okay.
*****
we had the Holy House Christmas party this evening. mom came with dad and me, and all the old ladies in the lobby bragged about me to her as if i was this awesome thing that mom had never met before. one of the ladies said, “is that the girl that had the green hair?!” and then she kissed me on the cheek. as did several other biddies. my number one fans.
in other old people news, laura’s gramma called me today. she’s probably the sweetest lady in the world. she has a great deep south accent/drawl and everything sounds quaint when she says it, whether she’s talking about food, furniture or yeast infections, it all sounds so nice.
old people love me.
12.20.04
the Hardwood Floor Men are going to be working at The House. meaning that dad and i cannot go back until the monday after Christmas.
YAY! YAY! TATDOW!
there’s a guy, named alan, that works for the contractor. he is from Trinidad. so he’s got this carribbean/jamaican accent. and it started snowing the other day (nothing serious. it didn’t stick or anything. it was cool to watch but also it meant that it was really cold out. too cold, really.) and alan said, “da weathermon, he get it wrong and steel he get a check.” so funny.
and true.
12.19.04
so tired. no time for brogging. so here’s what’s been in the Reefer Log lately:
dentist
it was the best of times
pitchers of pickle
pickle color page
christmas song lalalalalalala
jimmy pickle*
baby jesus pickle cry**
toonces t-shirt
pickle’s book***
product to cover painting mistakes call kills
stuff about number 206****
gay lion king*****
christmas pickle paper
i’m getting nothing for christmas (there were several of those. whack.)
funny wine art clips
why do sandwiches come with a pickle******
pickle smell not wanted in home
pickle battery lemon battery*******
worlds most large pickle in snaps********
get over here wav mortal kombat
and there were half a million for the hello k1tty tattoo, mortal kombat, hotaru, and all the regular pickle stuff.
*hee
**huh?
***this one was from google japan and it’s weird
****206? um, aren’t there 206 bones in the human body?
*****like there’s any other kind?
******because pickles are refreshing.
*******i think i know what you are talking about but, i’m not telling you about the pickle battery.
********in snaps? world’s largest, sorry, most large pickle? snaps? most large? i don’t…nothing. i’ve got nothing here.
the internet is stupid.
12.18.04
21 days in a row we’ve worked on The House. it’s now to the point where i don’t just hate it with every inch of my soul, but just being there makes my body physically ill. also, depression. i want to cry.
are we close to finishing? no way. i bet we’ll be there for AT LEAST two more weeks.
so far? we have used 6 gallons of trim paint. do you understand the horribleness of that? do you?! that means that we’ve used 6 gallons on baseboards, crown moulding, doors and windows ALONE.
AND WE HAVEN’T PAINTED ALL THE TRIM YET. THERE ARE STILL DOORS TO BE PAINTED. AND WINDOWS. MY GOD, THE WINDOWS.
12.17.04
new weekly
12.16.04
i’m working on a Weekly.
12.15.04
okay it’s like this. dad and i worked at The House for half a day, and while at lunch we decided we had been working way too hard on a project that seems the more we paint the more there is to paint. we’ve worked 18 straight days. it’s stupid. so we decided to give ourselves the afternoon off. i was so excited because my house is a wreck.
so when i got home today at 1pm this is what i did:
i vacuumed
did the litterbox
went to the grocery store
cleaned the kitchen, hall, and bathroom floors (on my knees! i have no mop. get a mop, fool.)
bathroom! cleaned it! tub! sink! (i did the toilet yesterday evening)
took a shower
did the dishes (finally!)
cleaned the coffee maker
counter!
cleaned out the fridge!
took out two sacks of garbage!
yay! garbage is gone!
made RCTs!
and now the clock says 4:58pm.
i am a domestic goddess.
12.14.04
today i made a scrumtrelescent supper of velveeta shells and cheese. for some reason mr. fleegan doesn’t mind when we just have mac&cheese for supper, and in fact, requests it very often. i usually mind because it seems like cheating in that
A. it’s so easy and
B. there’s no protien
and though it’s delicious, i just hate that we’re basically adult versions of 8th grade latchkey kids.
only now i don’t have to sneak sips of peach schnapps.
12.13.04
have i mentioned The House?
have i mentioned that i Hate It?
have i mentioned that there is No Escape?*
*remember that movie with Ray Liotta? i do. they were prisoners and were sent to live on an island. and then there was a war for some reason. i remember at one point Ray Liotta screams out, “you want it?!….come and get it!!!” but i can’t remember what he’s yelling about. yay!
****
hi. i’m an idiot.
lately i’ve been eating my dinner way too fast. what happens is i get home from The House and i DO NOT EAT A SNACK, but i do take a shower. then i wait for Mr. Fleegan to come home. eventually one of us come up with something for dinner. then we eat dinner and i proceed to scarf the meal like i think someone is going to take it away from me. so far, no one has actually tried to take my meal away. so i’m not sure why i keep eating dinner like a gross hog.
apparently i am hungry like the wolf, no?
but then, near the end of the meal when i’m slowing down, comes the unfun part. the part where my stomach starts hurting and i feel not quite heartburny, but not quite unheartburny either. there’s not gas (yet) but there is a pressure in my chest. i’m not going to throw up (yet) but i could throw up if i wanted to. basically i have just made myself miserable because
A. i REFUSE to eat a snack before dinner* and
B. i eat like a refugee.
*”before dinner” means from the time i get home until i eat dinner. this could be anywhere from one and a half to five hours. i cannot seem to break myself of this NO SNACKS BEFORE DINNER OR GOD WILL KILL YOU mentality. it is so ingrained that i don’t even think about it. it’s just something that doesn’t happen. the only time** i think about it is when i’m sitting here bloatedly acidic and miserable. only then do i say, “why did i let myself get so hungry that i ate like some kind of feral beast? why didn’t i just have a snack when i got home? why are you so oblivious?”
**occassionally LBC catches me saying something like, “gosh i’m kinda hungry-” and she’ll immediately interrupt me with, “don’t you even! just go in the kitchen right now and eat something. bread. something.”
“but-”
“i don’t want to hear it!”
“you don’t know what i was going to say!”
“you were going to say that it’s too close to suppertime for a snack. well, it’s not. handful of crackers. do it.”
but you know what’s crazy? on the odd occassion that i do have a snack? i feel like i’m getting away with something. like i’m a kid and i’m eating dessert first or whatnot.
hi. i’m an idiot.
another problem with snacking is that i don’t buy any snacky foods at the store. sometimes i buy chips. there is microwave popcorn but that is for watching movies! i haven’t bought any cookies in forever. my grocery list is usually
1. something for dinner
2. pop
3. poptarts
sometimes i get
4. cereal and milk
5. can of speghetti o’s.
eggs. i can never remember to get eggs. you know why? because Giant Johnson’s Food hides the eggs in this weird place. i call it the Egg Grotto.
wow. i am totally rambly today, huh?
12.12.04
today is mom’s b’day.
there are a lot of people out there searching for “hello kitty tattoo”.
Dear Kids Searching For Hello Kitty Tattoo and Finding My Website Instead:
I’m sorry. I have no idea how this happened. All I know for sure is that the Internet is stoopid. Also, please do not get a Hello Kitty Tattoo. I’m fairly certain you will regret it 15 years from now. Oh sure, it’s cute and all. But i’m thinking that the Hello Kitty is not a timeless design.
On the other hand, naked mermaids and flaming skulls? Timeless.
Just a little tip from Auntie Jaimie.
Love,
Auntie Jaimie
****
also? someone searched for ‘antimatter bomb’.
Dear FBI,
Get on this.
Thanks,
JP
12.11.04
i do not have a life anymore. what life i had has now been consumed by The House. we have been painting at The House for two weeks. i’m talking 14 days in a row. i’m talking about after church, you get your ass to The House and you paint.
someone. anyone. please come and kill me in my sleep. so i won’t have to paint The House anymore.
12.09.04
i finally, finally, finally canceled my ISP. it only took two weeks for me to move my cheese.
i think i’m improving.
*****
so i was reading this book. i’m ashamed of it so i won’t tell you the title. anyway i was enjoying it very much but it was rather long and oddly enough i did not finish it by the due date and took it back to the RBCPL* today. i was sad that i didn’t finish it, but also, i wasn’t excited enough to recheck it. besides, it was a new release and maybe someone was waiting for it and now they will get to read it.
the book was pretty great and interesting. it was science-y and art history-y and no it was not The Da Vinci Code, jerk. but it was written by the same guy. SHAME!
the only problem (actually there were several) i had with the book was that each chapter was a cliffhanger of ridiculousness. i mean, yes, a chapter ending should probably be a cliffhanger or cliffhanger-esque, that totally makes sense. but this book? was like:
OH MY GOD. THAT MUCH ANTIMATTER COULD BLOW UP A CITY!
OH MY GOD. THE ANTIMATTER BOMB WAS STOLEN! WHO WOULD DO THAT?!
OH MY GOD. THE ANTIMATTER BOMB IS HIDDEN IN VATICAN CITY?!
ILLUMINATI?!
OH MY GOD. THIS GUY KNOWS A LOT ABOUT ART HISTORY.
OH MY FLOPPING GOD.
THEY’VE KIDNAPPED THE CARDINALS? WHO WILL BE ELECTED POPE?!
THE POPE DIDN’T DIE? YOU MEAN…HE WAS MURDERED?!!?!?!!?!?!
HE’S THE POPE’S SON?!
see what i mean? it became tiresome and boring. and? by page 346 i didn’t care what happened to any of the characters or Vatican City.
*LBC they have another new vampire hunter book! ever since you gave them the other two books and i told them that they didn’t have the whole series they’ve since bought three more! hee! if they only knew how porny they are! SCANDALOUS! why, whut would the juniah league say? it was called incubus something.
12.08.04
HA! BOOYAH! TATDOW!
what did i tell ya? i said GO OUT AND BUY LORRETTA LYNN’S VAN LEAR ROSE, DIDN’T I?
and now? it’s been nominated for 5 grammies. because it’s SO AWESOME.
and? if you were cool? you’d have that album by now.
oh? what’s that? your friend was supposed to burn you a copy? but she keeps forgetting and keeps leaving it in the car? the car, by the way, that is 30 feet away from the very spot she’s typing this? wow. you sure have a lazy friend don’t you?
*****
referer log mayhem:
text file japanese opentextfile
woof i’m getting nothing for christmas song
hello kitty tattoo
picture of mr. pickle*
shujinko means**
pretty bare feet
so scrumtrelescent i can barely move***
save the pickle shirt
pickle smell in my house
fleegan pickle
why does house smell like pickles
pickle pops
peanut butter and jelly that’s what i like in my tummy song
christmas pickle color page
pickle sonic bible****
the song pickle man that makes in fun of spiderman*****
*you want a picture of my dad? freak.
**shujinko probably means goober. or moron. or idiot. or best lucky stupid head.
***do you know how pleased i am that someone searched for scrumtrelescent and found this site?
****i don’t knon what a pickle sonic bible is, but i’m pretty sure i want one.
*****i just…y’know, i’m not sure about this one. “makes in fun of”.
*****
today, this morning, i wanted to know the temperature so i went to www.weather.com only i spelled it www.waether.com and while it was loading i said, “damn,” ‘cos i had misspelled it. to my great surprised it loaded as www.weather.com.
Dear Weather.com,
I know you think you are helping people by being so convenient that you actually think for them. However, I think you should reevaluate the situation. Do we really need more people out there misspelling words and not being punished for it? The punishment in this case being a File 404 Page Not Found, see it’s nothing so bad. Just a little hint to the person to let him/her know that something is wrong, and that maybe they should check the address again. That way maybe we won’t have a pantload of lazy chuckleheads out there misspelling weather and thinking it’s okay to do so, because you know, you’ll fix it for them.
What I’m trying to say is, YOU DON’T HAVE TO CODDLE US. WE HAVE BRAINS. EVENTUALLY WE WILL FIGURE IT OUT. STOP TRYING TO ANTICIPATE OUR MISTAKES. WE LEARN FROM THEM.
Love,
Jaimie Pickle
so i kept saying waether all day long. way-ther. waaaaether. like it’s welsh or something. waetyllwywdyfyn.
12.07.04
this job is trying to kill me. 10 hour work day? what the?
my back! ow!
jimmy was massaging my back (mostly the right shoulder blade, what is up, shoulder blade?) and i was making noises like,
ow.
ow.
OW.
OW!
hey ow!
that hurts!
OW STOP!
why did you stop?
OW!
yeah.
YEAH! OW!
YEAH THAT’S IT!
RIGHT THERE!
OW!
THERE! YES! AH OW!
YEAH! YEAH! KILL IT!
KILL IT! KILL IT!
i wonder if liznchris heard? and if so, what they thought.
jimmy was laughing. but when i got to the KILL IT! part, he was like, “you’re crazy.”
also, laura! i totally had your dinner last night! because i worked late, jimmy brought me a plate of dinner that his mom made. i had
meatloaf
smashed potatoes
cornbread (???)
pinto beans
english peas
mac&cheese
cookies
OMG! so much food! i couldn’t eat it all! and i was STARVING. i ate with my mouth open! also, i ate it cold because i was THAT FLOPPINGLY HUNGRY.
12.06.04
we had breakfast for dinner this evening. scrambled eggs, sausage, hashbrowns, and a roll (i didn’t have any biscuits). then we made rice crispy treats for dessert.
if i had known how easy it is to make RCTs i would be as big as a house by now. the only thing keeping me from eating the whole pan of smarshmellowy goodness is the giant body guard i hired to keep me away from the RCTs. his name is Vinnie.
*****
i have to confess that i’ve been calling more and more things douche bags. i don’t understand this. this is not me.
things that have been a douche bag recenty:
the cat
the owner of the silver car that parked in the driveway blocking the WHOLE ENTRANCE
the computer
the shower
the jeep (no baby, you know i didn’t mean it.)
the alarm clock
me (for forgetting to buy toilet paper at the store)
the weather
bills
the carpenters at the house we’re working at
things that have not been a douche bag recently:
my blueberry cinderella chapstick.
liznchris (they made truffles and brought some over. TO. DIE. FOR. so good with coffee)
RCTs
Triscuit® Rosemary and Olive Oil crackers
my new cell phone (give it two years)
did i mention the truffles?
12.05.04
i do not hate christmas songs. for some reason.
i actually like them. most of them.
it seems that each christmas season i’ll hear a christmas song and it will strike a chord in me (what?) and that will be my favorite christmas song for that season and i’ll listen to it all the time. why? i don’t know. it just happens.
three years ago it was Little Drummer Boy. leetle drummer boy.
two years ago it was O, Holy Night.
last year was was Carol of the Bells. it’s so manic.
this year? i am ashamed. there seem to be two. Ave Maria and Do You Hear What I Hear?
the first one i’m blaming on the catholic channel. the second one? i can only blame myself. i have loved that song ever since i first heard it in the traditional christmas movie Gremlins. remember? one of the gremlins turns on the record player and that song comes on and the mom is all, “what the? is someone in the house?” and goes around with a knife in her hand looking for the intruder. and then she kills some gremlins in various ways (blender. microwave.).
great movie. great song. and this is the first year that i’ve downloaded a version of it and listened to it a billion times. but which version am i listening to? the classic Bing Crosby one that everyone loves? sadly, no. but i do like that one too. i got the linda eder version. and here i confess to you: it is so cheesy. and i love it. because. i am a dork.
it’s got like, these drums? and this african-american choir? and it’s like if a gay Lion King arranged it?
feel free to stone me. i deserve it.
12.04.04
i went to my local T Mobile store to get a new cell phone. when i walked in i noticed that there were three young dudes working and two of them were with this lady with a loud voice who seemed to be bossing them around. hm, i thought, she must be the manager. so the one guy starts helping me out and the lady (who is at the back of the store, but i can here her at the front) says, “thanks, y’all!” and leaves.
so the guy who is helping me out looks over at his buddies and they all kind of groan and mumble about the lady (who apparently, was a customer and not the manager. yikes) so i chuckle because i remember those kind of people from the sign shop. so one guy says, “hey man, if you need to go smoke a cig, go ahead. she was crazy. i know you’ve gotta be craving a cigarette.” and the guy responds with, “hell, she’d make the surgeon general want a cigarette!”
i laughed. i couldn’t help it.
and then it took all of two minutes for me to get a new phone. so easy. so painless. so not like the last time, which i thought i wrote a Weekly about, but i guess i didn’t. just know that if i told you the long story of getting my second phone, you wouldn’t even believe me, ‘cos it’s just that stupid. unless of course you too tried to get a new cell phone from T Mobile in 2002. or maybe it was still VoiceStream at the time. i can’t remember when they were bought out.
point is: it was hell, and also it was ridiculous.
12.03.04
my cell phone is being a douche bag. (honestly, i never use that word! i don’t know what has gotten into me. it’s kinda embarrassing.)
it won’t charge anymore.
so i’m getting a new one.
i know what you’re thinking. “gosh jaimie, you give birth to a cow just thinking about calling your ISP to cancel the service, but getting a new cell phone (especially after what it took to get that cell phone 2 years ago. all those phone calls and problems, oy!) is no problem for you? what’s up with that?”
well, actually my cell phone has been a giant douche bag for almost 6 months. so the fact that i’m just now getting pissed to the point of getting a new one should tell you something about my cheese moving skills.
listen World, quit. moving. my cheese.
so the battery will not take a charge and the dance has gone something like this for the last 4 months.
the phone blinks ‘low battery’ and beeps every minute.
i plug in the charger.
‘unable to charge’ *bleepeep*
“what?”
unplug charger.
‘low battery’ *beep*
“d’oh!”
plug in charger.
‘unable to charge’ *bleepeep*
“what!”
unplug charger.
‘low battery’
“i know, you-”
*beep*
“why are you so-”
the phone dies completely and shuts off.
i plug in the charger.
the phone cuts on. and does the Motorola Start-up Thing.
‘unable to charge’ *bleepeep*
“NO!”
unplug.
‘lowbattery’ *beep*
“stupid japanese piece of-”
it dies.
plug.
Motorola Start-up Thing.
‘unable to charge’ *beep*
“WHY?! WHY NOT CHARGE? WHAT’S SO BAD ABOUT IT, HUH? JUST CHARGE, YOU PHONE HOLE!”
unplug.
‘low battery’
“this? is getting old.”
*beep*
“DIE!”
it goes on for 10 minutes. then? it finally starts charging.
the fact that i haven’t thrown it out the window or at the cat just shows you how patient i can be. at times.
well GOOD-BYE Moto!
12.02.04
i am now pickle at fleegan dot com (does it really keep spam away when you spell it out like that?). so e-mail me there. or use the gmail. i don’t care.
remember that’s fleegan.com with pickle@ in front of it. stoopid spam!
the cat is being a douche bag. i don’t normally refer to things as “douche bags” (unless they are in fact, douche bags) but this time i’ll make an exception. she’s trying to
A. be everywhere at once
B. fit into the smallest place she can find (behind the computer monitor. get off the desk, now!)
C. type.
D/ghirowWfu9bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb
E. kill a plastic grocery bag
F. drive me crazy.
******
had a dentist appointment today. it was more horrible than usual. she hurt me. she hurt me bad. it went like this:
scrape scrape water air vacuum
scrape scrape water air vacuum
scrape scrape water air vacuum
rinse repeat
for 20 minutes! no lie! no hyperbole!
and the vacuum! was in my mouth! the whole time! she would not! take it out!
she kept apologizing (for the bloodloss) and she even said, “are you mad at me?”
what?
then she says, “hey jaimie, i just thought of something.”
“yeah?”
“yeah. you were always so bad about cringing and moving around in the chair while we cleaned you teeth. but now, look at you! you’re not even blinking or tearing up or moving at all! you are doing so good.”
the hell?
<tangent> i just turned around to check on Toonces Whorecat and she’s laying in the laundry basket on my clean clothes. liznchris? you want a cat? get off, cat!
</tangent>
yes. i’m a bad dental patient, but also? it hurts. and they make my gums bleed. on purpose! that bib they put on you? covered. in bloody bits of nastiness. rinsing my mouth out? looks like i’ve lost a prize fight. and then? after you’ve sliced and diced and polished? you razor-wire floss!
and then you yell at me for not flossing everyday.
well let me tell you something lady.
nobody flosses everyday. and if they tell you they do, they lie. because really, noone flosses every day. i floss. yes, i do. but not everyday. why? because i’m a spoiled american. and we. do not. floss. everyday. and neither do you so get off my spoiled american ass, okay? i live in the greatest country ever invented! and that gives me the right to not floss on mondays, wednesdays and fridays! or whatever! i’ve totally lost my train of thought! are you happy now?! i mean it’s not enough that i worked a tiring job in the cold ass cold all day long but then i gotta go get my teeth “cleaned” and by “cleaned” i mean “worked over something awful” by you and FOR THE LOVE OF CHRIST GET OUT OF THE LAUNDRY BASKET YOU FARKING BAG OF VOMIT! I WORKED A SLAVE JOB, WENT TO THE DENTIST, TAUGHT AN ART LESSON, DID LAUNDRY, I FINALLY GOT HOME AT 10:30PM AND I HAVE TO IMMEDIATELY-IMEDIAMENTE-IMEE-JEE-MOW PUT MY LAUNDRY AWAY ‘COS YOU WON’T GET YOUR FART-ASS OUT OF THE BASKET LONG ENOUGH FOR ME TO FINISH BLOGGING?!
THERE ARE STARVING KIDS IN RUSSIA WHO WOULD LOVE YOU.
QUIT LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT!
would anyone like to come over for dinner tomorrow night? the menu is cat and a cheap white. i’m thinking moscato. mmmm, moscato.
12.01.04
as requested by LT, More Reefer Log:
maxi pad
how does shujinko beat tanya*
pickle plate
moly pickle
mk deception ps2 moves
metallica interweb fire bad beer good videos
mortal kombat hotaru pictures mortal kombat fan links**
area 51 demo unlocked
puzzle washer build home plan diy
*i dunno. but when you find out e-mail me fleegan@gmail.com
**why did you put mortal kombat twice in the same search? also, i hate hotaru. he is stupid and wears a stupid outfit. his outfit has flags. what a dumbhole.
okay Mortal Kombatants, go here for cheats and moves and such.
fire bad beer good videos? metallica?
METALLICA!
The One About Medical Bills
Category: weekleez
The One About Medical Bills
December 17, 2004
hi kids,
if you are independently wealthy, please disregard the following:
if you ever have to have a surgery of some sort i encourage you to have some health insurance before you drive yourself to the emergency room at 2 in the morning. if you don’t have health insurance just wait, and try not to die during the night. then, first thing in the morning go to some kind of free clinic or the health dept. or something. just whatever you do, don’t go to the hospital. unless of course you are a single female who is either pregnant or has kids. then by all means, go the the ER and let medicaid pay for it all.
if i had known how much this shit was going to cost and how many different bills i’d get from every fucking medical union bullshit mother whore licking hooha, i would have never gone to the hospital. no, i mean it. i don’t care that my gall bladder was going to explode and kill me.
‘cos if i had died? i wouldn’t have these mother grabbing, skank shooting, buck futting bills on my table. bills for things that i have no idea what the money is for. the hospital bill (a ginormous $20,000 affair) included $3,000 for the ER alone. so tell me, why? why do i have a bill from the ER Doctors of Alabama? why did the bill come from Jacksonville, Florida? and why am i sending the money to Atlanta, Georgia? what did the ER doctor do for me anyway?
oh yeah. he said, “take her to radiology.”
right. the X-Rays were on the hospital bill. so i get Giant Mystery Bill #2 from the Radiologists of Alabama or whatnot. why? why is the bill for $500 when all you did was click a button twice? was it the wheelchair ride? ‘cos i think that’s a bit steep for two clicks and a ride down the hall. you shitbrain vomit bags, is your job so hard? making sure the x-rayee isn’t wearing anything metal before you click a button twice? you go to school for two years for that? good job. you must be proud. at least you’re good at your job, unlike the nurses.
you finger-pricking hag nurses. what the hell do i owe you $600 for? the only time i saw you was when that goddamn machine was beeping. well, let me tell you what. next time i’m getting my money’s worth. next time i’m shitting all over myself, i’m gonna rip that damn I.V. out as soon as you leave. that beeping machine? it’s going up someone’s ass. you? are going to bring me medicine. you? are going to be my bitch. next time you’re gonna earn that $600.
you know who else is gonna earn their money? those smug, shit eating, assclown anesthesiologists. are you kidding me? you want almost $800 for that? you boneheads were the worst of the lot. you couldn’t find my chart, you couldn’t run an I.V. line, and? and? your Nurse Diesel looked just like Kathy Bates. and i’m not talking Fried Green Tomatoes-fun loving-innocent-Kathy Bates. i’m talking Stephen King’s Misery-Psycho Bitch From Hell-Kathy Bates. not only could she not run a new line, she couldn’t take the old one out without ripping it from my arm. she ripped it. from my arm. it spurted. oh yeah, and thanks for the band-aid, by the way, do you have anymore? maybe some gauze? jesus lady, is this your first day? i need more gauze. more. more, you stingy Gauze Whore. we’ve got a bleeder! tourniquet! tourniquet!
“but jaimie-“
shut up. i know. these people have to know their shit or they might kill me. you know what? i don’t care. if these mushy-brained bungholes screw up the Sleepy Time Medicine do you know what happens? you fall asleep and die. (personally, i’m thinking that’s the way to go.) you either fall asleep and die, or wake up and live a full and meaningful life. it’s win-win, okay? so don’t even.
P.S.
pathology departement? who the hell are you? i never saw a pathologist. not a one. no one called me about testing my gall bladder. so how do i even know you tested it? but you only want $81 so i don’t even care. and even if you did test it i’ll never know the results because my doctor NEVER TELLS ME ANYTHING. EXCUSE ME, SIR. COULD YOU PLEASE COME DOWN OFF YOUR GIANT EGO FOR A MOMENT AND EXPLAIN SOMETHING TO ME, A POOR MORTAL. i promise that as soon as you answer my question you can go back to SMELLING YOUR OWN GODDAMN FARTS.
and this guy, my doctor (not the surgeon, who by the way actually did something and therefore, i did not mind paying him.) he comes to the hospital twice and both times he’s in my room for less than 12 seconds. “hi jaimie, how are you doing? great. i’ll see you tomorrow, m’kay?”
and this guy has the cojones to send me a bill for $230!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
i didn’t even ask him to come by! he just did! i thought he was being courteous! but no! well fine. here. glad to know i could make the payment for your beemer this month. fink!
******
sorry for the swear words, i just had to rant and get this off my chest. i’m sure that those of you who work in the medical field are all nice and competent workers who earn your money.
not.
you ass raping money snatchers.
next week’s epitomb: jaimie is killed by a pack of vomit-eating nurses.
jaimie “from no credit to bad credit” pickle
Leave a Comment | PermalinkTags: gall bladder
November 2004 Dribblings
Category: dribblings
11.30.04
i forgot about how i said i’d take a picture of the dreamplex w/xmaslights. laura and liz took great pleasure in reminding me that i had promised and had not yet delivered.
i am the Queen of Broken Promises. (i am also the Queen of Never Returns a Phone Call. your call is in fact important to me. however, i’ll still end up not calling you back. i am sorry. things happen. i have moths for brains. ours not to reason why.) (also, tami sparks, i do not have your phone number. i was going to call you last week to see what you were doing for thanksgiving but the only number i have for you is the PIMP line and i know you don’t have that one anymore. i need your home number. so i can call when you aren’t at home and leave a message for the dog.)
so i went out in the rain and took this picture of the house. the specks are raindrops that reflected the flash. oops.
notice how liznchris’s side has nice bushes
and mine has a giant weed.
i should put lights on it.
11.29.04
i heard a noise in the tv room and went to check out just what the heck the cat was doing. as i entered the room i’m all, “what are you doing?…and why does it smell like shit in here?!”
well it turns out that
A. the cat isn’t in the house and
B. i can’t find any shit.
it has been a monday all day long.
case in point:
dad and i were working across the street from the lutheran church where mom works. so we ate our lunch at the church because it has chairs and bathrooms (the place we’re at has neither). on my way back to the house (dad left before me) i see a big white dog in the fence of the church’s playground area. gosh, i think to myself, how did that poor dog get trapped in their? i better let it out.
minutes later i see mom and i say, “hey mom, there was a white dog trapped in the playground so i let it out.”
“oh no.”
“what?”
“that was mow man’s dog.” she’s referring to the dude that mows the church’s lawn. apparently he’s a redneck that takes his dog everywhere he goes.
“shit.”
about 20 minutes and one mile later i catch the dog. i get back to work all winded and worn out and dad’s all, “what’s your problem? and where have you been?”
“i *puff puff* let the dog out *puff* woof. woof.”
monday.
monday, monday part the second:
so dad bought this fancy light stand that holds two halogen work lights (that turn on separately and swivel separately and aren’t you jealous?) on it. and he handed the box to me and in a tv voice said, “your parents put it together.” and then he left the room to paint a wall. so i start assembling the light kit. i get the stand set up and the lights mounted and all that’s left to do is put the bulbs in. i’ve mentioned my light bulb problem before. well, these are the hoity-toity halogen bulbs that are skinny and you can’t touch them with your fingers or the baby jesus cries (or something) so i manage to get the bulb out of it’s bubble wrapper and i’m holding it by said wrapper and i’m trying to cram it into the light. but it feels like i’m gonna break it. so i call dad in for backup.
“dad. i can’t do this.”
“dammit. do i have to do everything?”
“apparently.”
so he snaps it in place no problem. we then plug the lamps in and turn on the light to see if it works and i’ll be darned, it does.
so he goes back to work and i start working on the second light. i finally get the bulb out and the wrapper is in the middle and i’m going to put it in the light come hell or high water. so i jam the bulb in there and click it’s in! it’s OH MY GOD! DAD! DAD! UNPLUG THE LIGHT! UNPLUG THE LIGHT! JESUS CHRIST UNPLUG THE LIGHT!
apparently that light was switched on at the factory. too bad there was NO WAY IN HELL ANYONE WOULD HAVE KNOWN THAT. dad (who is in another room when all this happens, but he is in the room where everything is plugged in.) unplugs the bitch and comes running in my room all, “what?! is there a fire? did the bulb break?!”
meanwhile i’m standing there rubbing my fists into my eyes which have tears in them. all i can see when i close my eyes is a giant blue box and when i open my eyes all i see is a giant orange box.
“shit. i’m blind.”
“what happened?”
“check the bulb dad. i think the bubble wrap melted to it.”
“what happened?”
“the light was on. so when i plugged the bulb in, it just, it just fucking exploded into my retinas.”
“oh. ow.”
“do i still have eyes or are they just smoking holes of doom?”
“uh. open them up.”
“i can’t. my head feels like it’s split in two.”
an hour later dad asks, “how do you feel now?”
“i feel like i’ve got a wine headache. right here. behind my eyes.”
“yeah, that probably didn’t do your eyes any good.”
“i can’t see colors anymore. it’s all faded and white.”
“maybe that’s because we’ve just painted this room and ceiling white.”
“yeah well. i’m not touching that light anymore. it’s the Danger Light.”
“yeah. i burned myself on it when i moved it.”
“see? and? the stand is painted red. and you know what that means.”
“it’s Craftsman?”
“nooo it’s Dangerous. like, eye burning, brow singeing Dangerous.”
“it is a Craftsman.”
“it’s about to be broken.”
11.28.04
found my bass. in the last place i looked, of course.
‘cos that’s where you always find things.
‘cos that’s where they are.
the worship set went well. i was a dunderhead for being worried, i guess. i was particularly thrilled to get to hear liz sing. if we weren’t friends i’d stalk her. but not really, ‘cos i’m too lazy to stalk. even though we live right next door. my laziness knows no bounds. and really, i don’t have a Stalker’s Heart.
laura and kris also sang, but i couldn’t hear them so much ‘cos i don’t know why. i don’t think they were in the monitor mix as much as liz. but i’m sure that the three of them together was oh…what’s the word i’m looking for…scrumtrelescent. yes, that’s it.
God showed up, and i think he’s trying to kill me. or at least make me puke and cry. He moves in mysterious ways. i believe i’ve mentioned the terrifyingness of it all? that which does not kill us only makes us wish we were dead. i kid.
*****
if it doesn’t rain in the morning i think liz and i are going to go walking. it’s going to be cold and miserable, but maybe just maybe, it’ll be worth it.
it won’t. but. it just goes to show you how easy it would be to stalk liz.
11.27.04
today kris put christmas lights on the porch(es) of the dreamplex. they are white lights, and they look very nice. i’ll try to take a picture of them tomorrow night. and maybe post it here? because i’m sure you all care.
i forgot to eat lunch today. i do that sometimes. usually on the weekends or on the days i don’t work. laura did remind me of lunch today at 3pm but then it didn’t make sense to eat anything at 3pm since dinner was only going to be a couple hours away. so like a moron i did not eat (note to self: get a box of granola bars for such an occasion) so at dinner time i ate my sandwich like someone was going to take it away from me and now…3 hours later i’m still feeling sick.
i know that if i would just throw up i’d feel better, but oh man, i don’t want to throw up.
so queasy.
so bloated.
so wish i wasn’t a dumbass.
i would forgive myself if this wasn’t something that happened very often.
must. buy. granola bars.
tomorrow is sunday and sunday=church. i’m nervous about church because
A. it’s church, and God will probably be there. (heh. be there? of course he’ll be there. he’ll be saving me a seat all, “hey jaimie, come sit by me!” all excited. and i’ll be thinking to myself, “oh no. there’s God, and he wants me to sit next to him. crap. now i’ll have to behave and pay attention to the sermon.” and he’ll be all, “i heard that, jaimie.” and i’ll be all, “shit!” “that too.” “AIEEEEE!”)
B. i’m playing bass on the worship team and i haven’t played bass in several months (almost a year). i don’t even know if all my crap still works. do i have cables? do i use a direct box? is there a line out on my amp? where’s my amp? where’s the bass?
C. the worship team is liz, laura, kris, and myself. we haven’t all played together since we were in a band and i just hope we’re able to worship and not be all weird or whatever. i hope we make a joyful noise.
D. i’m sure it will all be fine.
E. where is my bass?
11.26.04
i am afraid of God. and i think that’s a good thing. it’s probably a good idea to fear a deity. however, i suppose my fear is different than just the awe/respect fear. my fear is a genuine “he knows everything? and he has the power to smite?!” kind of fear. my friends think that this fear is a little too fearsome. and they are probably right.
11.24.04
this week on fleegan reefer log:
bumfights coupon*
angelica’s smoke shop t-shirt
krylon hammered
i am full of christ’s love**
excersise cheer stuff
delta dawn wav files
funny pitchers of the movie eurotrip***
what the hell is a pickle****
*again! yay!
**uh oh. could searches for Saved! finally rescue me from all the eurotrip searches?
***obviously not. also, pitchers?.
****indeed!
*****
today we worked at the Holy House. as i’ve mentioned before, the Holy House is an affordable housing high rise apartment complex for older people. this means that at lunch time the elevators (2) are very busy as the Meals on Wheels folks (they call it Manna* here) have their buggy (shopping cart) full of tasty hospital food for the poor old people, and they have to stop at each and every floor (15) to deliver the meals. this? is not a problem for me. but apparently? it is for them.
the two ladies (boneheads) who were delivering the meals today looked like they were having as much fun as say, someone who had to walk on rusty nails and puddles of lemon juice in their bare feet all day. so on the 11th floor dad and i get to the elevator and there’s Mrs. Sourpuss and her manna sidekick Pissy. the elevator opens and they quickly push their cart into the elevator and then turn to us and our cart (full of painting stuff) and say, “i guess you’ll have to wait for the next one.” door closes.
well first of all, we could’ve crammed in there. they were going to be getting off at the very next floor so it wasn’t like we were taking a 6 hour road trip in that elevator or anything. but fine. so we wait for the next one. it took like, 6 minutes.
sheeze.
so a bit later i (me, as in, just me, no cart, no dad) have to get on the elevator on the 7th floor to go to the lobby. so the doors open and there’s Bitchy and Slappy with their cart of food. Bitchy says, “you’ll have to wait for the other one.”
what? i don’t think so, lady. no way i’m waiting 5 minutes for the elevator again. not when i can easily fit in that car with you and your little dog too.
so i got on anyway. “nah, i’ll fit.” and i’m totally blocking the door, but only because they have the cart in the middle of the elevator, like how a retarded monkey would have positioned the cart. so my plan is when the ‘vator gets to the 6th floor and the door opens, i’ll step out of the ‘vator to let the two boneheads out.
it stops and while the door is still opening the Alpha Twit says, “you’re gonna have to move.” like, no kidding lady? like i thought we could try to break all the rules of science and you could push the cart through me. so i step off and let them pass and i get back on and ride it down to the lobby.
so see, lady? the world didn’t stop spinning because i got on the elevator with you and your henchman and your cart full of nutritious old people food. and? you get no points for volunteer work when you act all self-sacrificing and put out. poor pitiful you.
11.23.04
i’ve been drinking diet soda lately ‘cos the regular soda has been giving me sugar fits. i dunno if it’s cos my gall bladder is gone or what, but diet soda has become a total laxative for me. at first i thought it was just diet dr pepper, which is basically carbonated prune juice. but no. even diet coke is like Super Colon Blow.
i’m talking deep, deep cleansing colonics here.
i’m wondering if it will get better, or if it will be this way forever. i hope it goes away ‘cos diet cherry coke is really awesome.
*****
mr fleegan and i saw National Treasure last night. it’s pretty stupid, but i liked that it was a treasure movie that was all about american history and not egypt or cambodia or nazi germany. so they get points for that.
*****
in other news: BAD OMEN
yesterday dad and i went to some lady’s house to fix her louvred (spanish?) closet doors that had fallen apart (chinese f*ck puzzle). so we fix the door and all is good. but then we’re standing in the kitchen, dad is by the counter and i’m at the sink looking out the window, like 8 inches away from the window when all of a sudden this bird comes out of nowhere and smacks the window, 8 inches from my face.
BAM!
i know, you’re probably thinking that i screamed some kind of profanity, but no. i don’t even think i breathed. it scared me that bad.
dad was all, “holy smokes!”
and i was all starey and gapey, thinking about Threshold.
“are you okay?”
“not. at. all.”
“y’know, it’s bad luck just seeing something like that.”
“bad. f*cking. omen.”
“i’m glad i was standing over here.”
“i need to change my underwear.”
11.22.04
who moved my gaddam cheese? gaddamit!
so. my internet is so fast that i can download like, video clips of things and actually watch them. it’s really neat. but, as spiderman says, “with great power comes great responsibility.” and so, the thing is, now i have to give up my e-mail address. my e-mail address mind you that i’ve had since al gore invented the internet. (bitch).
i am the only person i know who has had the same e-mail addy since time began. i’m talking like 8 years. and now, i have to close that account ‘cos i have DSL (sorry dan, i sold out, but also? it wasn’t completely my fault and i think you know that.) and it makes no sense to keep paying my ISP money for an e-mail address if i don’t even use their service anymore.
PISS!
i am so upset about this. and i shouldn’t be, i know. it’s progress or whatever. and laura has been trying to make me see that it’s not a big deal.
BUT IT IS A BIG DEAL. AND I HATE IT. I AM SO UPSET THAT WHEN I THINK ABOUT CALLING UP MY isp AND TELLING THEM, “SORRY BOYS, BUT I’VE MOVED ON. NO, NO…IT’S NOT YOU…IT’S ME.” THAT MY HEART RATE PICKS UP AND THERE’S A ROARING IN MY EARS AND I CAN’T SEE BECAUSE EVERYTHING HAS FADED TO WHITE. YES, I HAVE A DAMN ANXIETY ATTACK JUST THINKING ABOUT CANCELLING MY ACCOUNT.
BECAUSE!
I JUST DO!
i just…it’s just that…
oh man. i don’t know.
sadness.
so anyway. for the time being you can e-mail me at fleegan at gmail dot com.
that will probably change soon ‘cos jimmy says he’ll make me a fleegan account.
i’ll post that as soon as i get it.
le sigh.
11.21.04
so i’ve moved my computer to my house.
i had to get a new desk for it though as the old one was too big to move and too big for my room. so i went to Orifice Max and bought a new desk and Kris was nice enough to build it for me. so now not only is my computer at my house but it is no longer sitting on the floor of my room looking all forlorn and gimpy. now it looks glorious.
as i was cleaning off my old desk i found a piece of paper that appeared to be a list of things that i had written down. i can’t tell exactly what the list was for, and it appears that i wrote the items on the list at different times because some of it is in black ink and some blue and there’s even a couple in red.
here’s the list:
the fidelity of a kennedy
encyclopedia brown
lord steven segal
godzilla-sized
could make a statue weep
pantone numbers
DIY
pleasing aftertaste
geometric solids
crackwhore-ectomy
should file a restraining order
ACME ANYTHING
meta
stephen king short stories
gasoline rainbow
inspector gadget
Platform 9 3/4
pre-tornadic stillness
Nurse Ratchet
so good i could have ascended
my inner jew
Old Scratch (this one was in red ink)
Amontillado (also in red)
oversoul
gum surgery
i feel like i’ve been dragged through a keyhole
sleeper
what on earth was i going to do with this list? the date on the paper was 6.1.2003 and that means nothing to me.
by the way, Old Scratch? what the-? like, hey, the 18th Century called, they need their term back.
geezy peezy.
11.20.04
i talked to my leetle brather today. he’s been playing MK: Deception too.
jc: hey, i beat Mortal Kombat today.
jl: you did?! holy cow that’s fast. i’ve been playing it for four days straight.
jc: which part are you on?
jl: i’m having to fight as Shujinko now and it sucks ‘cos-
jc: ‘cos there’s no special moves for him, i know.
jl: yeah! what’s up with that? and? i’m getting beaten over and over by someone named Tanya.
jc: yeah she’s hard to beat.
jl: Tanya. what kind of name is that anyway? i mean, all these crazy names: Scorpion, Sub-zero, Mileena, Sindel, Baraka, Noob Saibot,… Tanya?
jc: hee. i know. but you’re close to finishing the game. once you beat Tanya then i think you have to train with one more person.
jl: oh really? so i’m close?
jc: yep.
jl: cool. i’ve unlocked 3 other players.
jc: really? i’ve unlocked Kenshi.
jl: oh yeah, i totally have Kenshi.
jc: who else do you have?
jl: i’ve got Kira and some guy called…Hogart? no. Hotaru? i think?
jc: Hotaru. yeah.
jl: all those names and Tanya was the best they could do?
jc: i know.
so i guess i’m close to finishing the game which means i’ll be able to get on with my life. yay!
11.19.04
sorry for the three day no update blog.
i’ve been playing Mortal Kombat: Deception (or as i like to call it Mortal Kombat: For Girls) for about, well, 3 days. this game is whack. it, has a plot? in Konquest mode you play as Shujinko. it’s really just a way for you to learn all the players’ moves. i like that. however, it’s really redundant. really redundant. really.
redundant.
anyflorp. the thing i hate about it is Shujinko is a moron. it is SO FLOPINGLY OBVIOUS that Damashi is LYING about EVERYTHING. and yet there’s nothing you can do to stop Shujinko from blindly doing Damashi’s bidding in the name of the Elder Gods. the game forces you to be a dumbhole. i hate that. i mean, Shujinko is even more gullible than me in real life. and kids, i’m quite gullible. ask jimmy, laura, or liz. they all lie.
my guess is that Shujinko is the Chinese word for goober.
during your adventure in Konquest mode you Kollect different kolored koins and use them as kurrency in the krypt to unlock characters and movies and such. that part is kinda kool.
in Kombat mode i get to the level where Noob and Smoke double team your ass and i lose every time.
every. time.
redundant.
also, what is up with those combo (sorry, kombo) moves? i’m playing it on PS2 and holy geez, 9 buttons in a row!? shut up, Scorpion!
yeah, like it’s possible to do that when someone is killing your ass with a giant axe.
waste. of. time.
also on the game is a demo for another game called Area 51. i think it’s like Halo for the PS2, only i didn’t run out of ammo. when i play Halo i die a lot and also i run out of ammo. Area 51 has a machine gun that when i fire it the kontroller vibrates and shakes so hard it feels like i shoved a screwdriver into an electric outlet.
so anyway, that’s what i’ve been doing for the past 3 days.
*****
in other news. i’m finally going to take my computer to my house. what does this mean? it means that it’ll actually be convenient for me to update this b-log and surf the “net“. does this mean i’ll update every day? does this mean you’ll actually get a Weekly weekly?
skknt. yeah. sure.
you would. except y’know, Mortal Kombat!
GET OVER HERE!
11.16.04
Dear Rust-oleum® Unique Hammered Finish and Regular Satin Black spray paint,
I heart thee. You make my old shit look like new shit, nay, look like the shit. The good kind of shit. The kind of shit that when other people see it they say, “Where did you get that lovely piece of shit?” and you say, “What? That old thing? I just spray painted it. Doesn’t it look like awesome shit?” “Why, yes, yes it does look like awesome shit, Jaimie. You sure are clever.” and then you say, “Aw, heck. It’s just spray paint.” and then they say, “Krylon™?” and then you’re all, “Krylon™?! What are you gay?” and they’re all, “Hey!” and you’re all, “It’s Rust-oleum®, you gay.” and they’re all, “Gay?! What the hell?” and you’re all, “What?” and they’re all, “You can’t say that!” and you’re all, “Can’t say what? Rust-oleum®?”
And so they’re all, “You are such a bitch.” and you’re all, “It’s not my fault you don’t know about Rust-oleum®.” but they’re all, “I know about Rust-oleum®, you ass, I just don’t know why you used Rust-oleum® on wicker.”
So you’re all, “God, i know. But that’s what dad bought.” and they’re all, “Yeah right. And? You couldn’t spray paint your way out of a wet paper sack.”
“Hey!”
“Please, have you seen the runs on this?”
“That was my practice board, you ass clown.”
“Practice board? Okay, now who’s the gay?”
“You can’t-!”
“I did.”
“But-”
“Too late.”
“I hate-”
“I know.”
O, Rust-oleum®! With your Hammered Metal Textured Finish…
In A Can!
O, blessed can of aerosol!
You spray your Magic Texture of Joy on my old switch plates
And you make them look like:
A million bucks!
For mere nickels!
Pennies per sray!
Thank you O, Wonderous Spray!
I know not how you work
But I thank the Heavens for thee!
The same Heavens, I should add,
That are destroyed every time i spray
Thou aerosol into thine ozone!
Tss! tss! tss! tss!
Eight to twelve inches away from the object!
From right to left and
Left to right!
I shall cover the world with thee!
Thank you for your wonderful product. It has truly made that crappy wicker thing in my parents’ bathroom look like a newer version of the old wicker thing. The only way to improve upon it more would be if you had a spray that made pieces of shit wicker into non-wicker. Man, that’d be awesome. Maybe you guys and the boys at DuPont could get on that?
M’kay, thanks.
Hogs and Kisses,
Jaimie Pickle
11.15.04
i really, really, really need to invest in a video camera. i’m thinking a digital one. so i can put scenes from my work day on this blog and save me the trouble of typing the whole thing out.
i’m sitting on a goldmine here.
the Discovery Channel would pick us up in no time. then i’d have a tv show and a corporate sponsor. two birds enter; one stone leaves.
i’m rich. the end.
11.14.04
a good time was had by all.
while visiting little bro mr. fleegan and i had to share a bed.
SCANDAL!
anyway. he is a total cover hog (admittedly the covers on the bed were too small for that size bed. the edges of the cover just barely reached the edge of the bed.). i had to wake him up three times in one night.
“hey jimmy.”
“hm? yeah?”
“how ’bout some covers?”
“okay.”
hour later:
“jimmy.”
“wha?”
“you stole the covers again.”
“sorry. here.”
later:
“hey.”
“hm?”
“covers.”
“oh.”
but what was so funny was the first night we were there he and justin stayed up til 4am playing video games. so by the next evening jimmy was pretty much worn out. so he went to bed first. when i went in the bedroom to go to bed he was on his side of the bed and sleeping. so i go to the bathroom and go and brush my teeth (which takes all of 1 minute, right?) and i get back to the bedroom and he is sprawled all over the whole bed.
“hey!” i say, “you can’t do that!”
“hm? wha? what i do?”
“you’re on both sides of the bed.”
“oh.”
i thought he was being funny. but he wasn’t. he turned over and fell right back to sleep.
*****
another funny conversation we had this weekend:
before i go to take a shower i say to jimmy, “now i expect you to have this game beaten by the time i get back.” (he’s been playing Halo 2)
so i’ve finished my shower and i’m dressed and i’m putting on my socks and i look over at the game he’s playing and i see credits rolling.
“did you just beat your game?”
“huh, i guess i did.”
“you just got it the other day!”
“i know.”
“i can’t believe you’ve beat it already.”
“well, you told me to.”
“oh yeah. i guess i did. but now what are you gonna do?”
“wait for the third one to come out.”
“well they have you trained, don’t they.”
“and the good thing is that when the third one comes out it’ll be on the xbox2.”
“xbox2?! already?! but, but no! why?”
“c’mon jaimie, xbox2.”
“but i thought that this xbox was the gaming system. what’s the second one going to have that’s better?”
“the second one will control me more completely.”
****
conversation on the way home:
at some point during the weekend i mention to jimmy that i’m thinking about getting an excercise bike. so on the way home he says, “hey, you want me to get you an excercise bike for christmas?”
“um. no.”
“but i could-”
“no.”
“what?”
“jimmy, don’t ever buy your girlfriend excersise equipment.”
“but you said-”
“it doesn’t matter. don’t do it.”
“why not?”
“‘cos that’s like saying, “merry christmas, fatty.” so no.”
“but you’re not-”
“doesn’t matter. just don’t do it.”
11.12.04
today the fleegan and i are going to visit my leetle brahther in TN. it’s the first time that jimmy and i have gone to visit little hoostin. i’ve gone with laura a couple times and i think liz went with us once. but jimmy has never been. so there you go.
jimmy i worried about staying with them but i assured him that it would be okay now that justin has moved out of that nasty house that he shared with 3 other people and 2 farking dogs.
now justin lives in some fancy apartment complex, and his apartment is bigger than the house i live in. i’m very glad that he doesn’t live with those skanked hippies anymore. don’t get me wrong, the hippies are good people, just not very clean.
dad and best went to visit him last week. dad told me that if i wanted to cook anything while i was up there to be sure to bring whatever i needed.
“like, what do you mean?”
“like, if you cook something you’ll need to bring everything you need to cook it.”
“are you serious?”
“heart attack.”
“how is that possible?”
“i’m talking everything. wait, i think they have salt.”
“he’s been out of the house for four years. how do you not accummulate, y’know, things?”
“he eats a lot of sonic, you know.”
i can’t wait to spend the weekend playing video games and eating sonic with my little brother!
11.11.04
armistice day!
okay, i have a Stoopid Girl Story starring Me as the Stoopid Girl.
so i had a maxi pad in my back pocket (the best stories always start out with great lines. “it was the best of times; it was the worst of times.” “call me ishmael.” “he was a dark and stormy knight.”* etc. so a story with an opener like, “i had this maxi pad in my pocket.” you know it’s going to be a great story.
so i had a maxi pad in my back pocket. Always™ makes the Ultra Thin (with wings! they fly!) pads and they fit easily and unnoticibly in a back pocket. they are the crowning achievement of maxi pads thus far in history. in fact, i think they’re brilliant.
Dear Always™ Ultra Thin Maxi Pads,
Hi. You don’t know me but i use your product at least once a month. i have this website that gets, i dunno, a little over a thousand hits a month. Anyway, i’m looking (always looking) for a corporate sponsor for the site mainly so i can say things like, “fleegan.com is sponsored by Nabisco!” and also for the money and freebies. Oh yes, i want freebies. Jackets, hats, snacks, whatever.
You should really think about being my corporate sponsor. Because i could really talk up your pads and whatnot. Y’see, i tell stories on my site and people (usually) laugh at them. Laughing makes people happy. And we all know that happy consumers are spendy consumers. In short, you sponsor this site and i’ll post your logo (very nearly at the top of the page!) and totally talk about your pads and make people laugh about funny things like menses. It’ll be great!
Be sure to make the check out to Jaimie Pickle (note the two i’s) or better yet, just send a pile of cash (i won’t tell uncle sam if you won’t!) and i’ll get started on a new more pastel-ly look to the site to make it more feminine. Tell you what, you send some freebies and i’ll even add some wings to the site! “fleegan.com, now with wings!” Could this be the beginning of a beautiful friendship or what?
Can’t wait to start working with you,
Jaimie Pickle
okay, where was i? oh yeah, so i had this pad in the back pocket of my work clothes. and i forgot all about it and threw my work clothes in the hamper. totally forgot. anyway, long, boring story short, two days later when i’m doing laundry and putting the wet clothes in the drier, i look at the bottom of the washer to get the last of the socks and what’s this? damn, i must’ve left that in a pocket or something. oh well, it’s no good now. i guess i’ll throw it away.
i was impressed that it didn’t fall apart. the packaging was still intact, and none of the adhesive (on the wrapper) had come unglued. but the best part of all is that the damn thing weighed four pounds! OMG! i lifted it out of the washer and started laughing immediately at it’s new heftiness. and it was the same size, it hadn’t swelled up or anything. oh man, so much laughing.
dad was all, “what’s so funny about laundry?”
hee.
*laura once typed a story that started out, “He was a dark and stormy knight.” on a piece of torn, yellow legal pad paper. why i can remember that i have no idea.
11.10.04
i am about to do you guys all a favor:
RUN. DO NOT WALK TO YOUR FAVORITE MUSIC STORE AND BUY A WONDERFUL PRESENT FOR YOURSELF: LORETTA LYNN’S NEW ALBUM VAN LEAR ROSE IS ABSOLUTELY AMAZING.
and now for Good Jaimie/Bad Jaimie* Theatre. this week’s epitomb: I’m a Little Bit Country
“jaimie, what the hell? what’s with the country music kick?”
“what?”
“you used to hate that stuff.”
“shut it.”
“i mean, you were a Nirvana fan of all things and-”
“what’s that got to do with anything? i still like Nirvana. i guess.”
“you guess? and Metallica? i suppose “you guess” you still like them too?”
“what?! i LOVE metallica! you know that! what is your-”
“your obsession with Johnny Cash is embarassing.”
“my what?! i DO NOT have-”
“yeah right.”
“hey!”
“and how many Johnny Cash CDs do you have now?”
“only 3. that’s not so many. i mean, i’ve got like, 20 Tori CDs.”
“and when was the last time you listened-”
“shut up shut up.”
“i saw you eyeing that Marty Robbins box set.”
“so! so what! i don’t HAVE to listen to just, you know, hard rock or whatever! i can listen to whatever i want! i can listen to big band swing music if i want to!”
“i believe you did that already. 8th grade wasn’t it?”
“i hate you!”
“i am you.”
“i don’t care! you’re mean!”
“and you’re telling people to buy the coal miner’s daughter’s latest. so who’s the sicko?”
“it’s great music! i’m glad to tell people about great music!”
“your friends are worried about you.”
“no they aren’t!”
“jimmy says he doesn’t know you anymore.”
“lies!”
“he thinks your obsession with Johnny Cash is weird.”
“you leave jimmy out of this! AND Johnny too!”
“takin’ care of your fellas, huh? your good ol’ boys? gonna buy a Highwaymen album next?”
“cut your throat, you monster!”
“you used to be cool, jaimie. you had blue hair. now look at you. brown hair? and you don’t even booze it up anymore. what’s happened to you?”
“nothing has happened! i’m still cool! i’m VERY cool! i’ve just widened my spectrum of listenable music, that’s all. there’s nothing wrong with-”
“it’s that damn gall bladder. they took your cool.”
“are you crazy?!”
“i’m not the one buying Loretta Lynn’s newest.”
“it’s a great album!”
“this all started with that damn Dolly Parton CD. then you had to go and download Delta Dawn.”
“Delta-? that’s a classic song! you cannot argue with-”
“please. listen to yourself. you’re advocating that hillbilly music.”
“it’s not- so?! i like songs that tell a story.”
“oh my sweet simpleton.”
“you can’t call me that!”
“poor, innocent jaimie.”
“hey!”
“i can’t believe society allows you to drive a car.”
“okay, now that’s just-”
“tsk tsk.”
“you know, you’re the one that’s sad. you’re totally limiting your musical-”
“aw, you’re so cute.”
“you are just a cold hearted bitch.”
“namecaller.”
“totally unreasonable. i can’t talk to you anymore.”
“oh you’re breaking my heart.”
“that’s it. i’m outta here.”
“oh sure, run away. big baby.”
“now who’s the namecaller?”
“ha! i knew you’d come back!”
“forget it. i’m gonna go download more music.”
“well for the love, throw some Prodigy or Chemical Brothers in the mix for me.”
“not on your life.”
“it’s your life!”
“yeah, and we’re downloading Loretta. love it or die.”
“i hate you.”
“…”
“i suppose when we get home you’re going to force me to watch CMT?”
“not listening.”
“hm? gonna watch that redneck channel?”
“buh-bye.”
“gonna set the alarm to a country station?”
“…”
“so tomorrow you want to download the whole Glen Campbell oeuvre?”
“are you finished?”
“hm? big Charlie Rich fan maybe?”
“ah. not finished.”
“Porter Wagoner much?”
“you’re reaching.”
“Hank?”
“farther…”
“i know! Tammy!”
“stretching…”
“D-I-V-O-R-”
“gone.”
*anyone notice that Good Jaimie/Bad Jaimie seems more like Impatient Jaimie/Impatient Jaimie?
11.09.04
the Pickle House was mentioned on LBC’s Blog of Dirty Secrets the other day. she mentions 2 things:
A. the Pickle House has only one pair of unlocatable scissors and
2. only one television set despite the fact that four people used to live there at one time and two of them were small kids (at one time).
all of this crazy talk is entirely true. mostly. first let me tell you about part A.
A. when i was a kid we had two pair of scissors. they were chrome and very old. also there was one pair of hair cutting scissors and you were not allowed to use those scissors for anything ever or you would be drawn and quartered and beaten. eventually the two antique chrome scissors vanished to the place where missing socks go.
odd note: the two ancient scissors were never seen at the same time ever. one of them has a rust spot on one of the blades and that’s how we knew that there were two scissors floating around the house. but like i say, they were never able to be found at the same time. this became a really big deal at christmas wrapping time.
two years ago justin, oops, hoostin, bought mom a kitchen knife set and it came with some heavy-duty utility scissors and at this point in time those are the ONLY scissors that mom and dad have. not that they’ve ever thrown out a pair of scissors mind you, it’s just that all the others disappeared. including the hair cutting scissors.
not so odd note: i took the hair cutting scissors when i moved out of the house. however, i have no idea where the hell they are as i have moved like, 4 times since then. laura, did you end up with them?
2. the television. yes, we are the only family i know that only had one TV in the house. my brother and i didn’t watch a whole lot of TV as kids (unless it was raining). my mom forced us to play outside. with each other.
it was horrible.
all that fun and bike riding.
pure torture.
but actually when we had ninetendo and sega i remember we did have an old TV down in the den (which was actually a converted garage) that we could play our games on. it didn’t have cable but we didn’t care as long as we could play mario and zelda we were happy.
it had a small crack in the screen.
anybody crying yet? didn’t think so.
and here it is 15 years or so later and mom and dad still only have one TV. it’s not a very big TV but at least it’s color. i mean, it’s not a small TV. but it’s not huge either. i’m a girl, so i have no idea how big it is.
C. as for laura and all of her tape. well, there’s never any tape at mom and dad’s house. never has been. oh sure, they buy it. they buy it a lot. but it hides.
with the scissors.
and they laugh.
at all of us.
this becomes an issue at christmas wrapping time.
11.06.04
i uh, i finally got around to changing my voice mail message. it’s only been 4 years.
me: hey dad. i changed my voice mail message yesterday.
dad: thank god.
me: what?
dad: jaimie, that other one was lame.
me: what?! wh-what?!
dad: lame.
me: i don’t- why didn’t you tell me?
dad: well it wasn’t lame like, it wasn’t bad exactly. it was just. old. played. i hated it.
me: really?
dad: really. so you’ve got a new one, huh?
me: …
dad: so what’s it say?
me: i don’t want to talk about it.
dad: aw, c’mon. don’t be that-
me: nope. not talking about it.
dad: jaimie-
me: lalalalalalalala
11.05.04
there’s a new weekly.
11.03.04
i woke up this morning and it was raining. so i figured that bush won and that god was crying.
i predict WWIII by 2006. on U.S. soil no less.
way to go america.
reefer log:
live football on satellite/spanish
picture of a pickle
mr. panty cz
pickle’s food and fun
homer says hello in a funny way wav
internet, you confuse me.
11.01.04
why is it that all of a sudden being a house painter seems like the lamest thing ever? i feel like a loser. like i have nothing to offer to anybody. i used to be smart and i had a job i was really good at. and now i paint houses.
what the hell was i thinking?
i visited the sign shop some days ago and now they have three people working there. it took three fucking people to replace me. wtf? the reason i quit was ‘cos i asked for a raise and they wouldn’t gimme one. so now they hire three people? all i wanted was $10 an hour. now they’re paying 3 people pro’ly $6 an hour each.
the hell?
anyone?
why am i the one feeling bad about all of this?
it’s gotta be pms, right?
someone beat me over the head with a blunt object and let’s just get this over with, please.
Leave a Comment | PermalinkThe One About Sonic
Category: weekleez
The One About Sonic
November 03, 2004
hi kids,
so you guys all know what sonic burgers are, right? good.
what?
are you from mars?
no.
no, it is not a burger that’s made of sound.
look-
hey-
would you shut your hole for two seconds please?
sonic is a fastfood chain. it’s like mcdonald’s or wendy’s except it doesn’t have a building. it’s like an “old timey” drive your car up to the burger joint and some lady comes out and brings your burgers to the car and you eat the burgers right there. in your car. kind of “restaurant”.
what?
you know what? your attitude is not appreciated.
it’s not my fault that you don’t understand what the hell i’m talking about. obviously you live in russia where there are no sonics with their wonderful Giant Cheeseburgers of Death and Ginormous Bladder Buster-sized Slushes of Peril. and frankly, that’s sad.
it is a fact:
my leetle brahther eats sonic food like, everyday.
what a doof. but it all started when he went to the local jr. college. there’s a sonic strategically placed close to the college. so he would eat that crap for lunch or breakfast or snacktime or any other time that he had that was free.
he’s an idiot.
when he moved to TN to go to The Fancy College he called me and told me that the first thing he did was drive up and down the main drag. he said he that he was blown away by all the millions of restaurants the place had. he said, “i drove up the strip twice trying to make up my mind. there’s a quiznos and a wings place and BBQ and a million bars and steakhouses and everything.”
“really? where did you go?”
“sonic.”
“…”
“what?”
“you’re an idiot.”
now i like sonic as much as the next guy, and by “next guy” i mean “anyone except my brother”. dad and i will have sonic for lunch every once in a while, and sometimes jimmy and i go there for a quick supper. we usually just take our food home, we never really eat the food in our car because really, what’s the charm of eating a full meal in your car? i don’t think there is one.
the only problem i have with sonic is the whole gratuity thing. do you tip the “waitress”? most people do. my brother does. my dad does. even mr. fleegan does.
i?
do not.
now before you stone me let me say something.
why the hell are you people tipping the sonic “waitresses”? you are at a fastfood joint. are you leaving money in the arby’s booth? are you tipping the braindead kid working the register are mcdonald’s? “way to go jughead, you pressed the right picture button. here’s a dollar.”
no. you don’t. so why are you tipping the sonic “waitress”? all this chick did was bring the bag of food to your car. did she come out and take your order? did she come back during the meal and ask if she could refill your Colossal Soda of Woe? no. all she did was bring your sack of food to your car, which by the way, is parked 10 feet away from the door. so why are you giving her a dollar?
and trust me, you’re not the only one outraged that i’m such a cold hearted bitch that i won’t even tip the sonic “waitress” and that i think that people who do tip the sonic “waitress” are crazy or just really rich. maybe if i were rich i’d be different about it. maybe if i were rich i’d be all, “hey lady who brought me my sack of fastfood all the way to my car which is like, 12 feet away, thanks. keep up those mad walkin’ skillz. here’s a buck.”
but i’m not rich. and all the girl did was walk seven steps to my car and give me my food.
and don’t even get me started on the ones that hover around waiting for a tip because um, all i ordered was a medium milkshake and if you think you’re getting a tip for that then you’re crazier than the idiots who tip you.
i know, i know, i know. i’m a bitch and i’m going to hell because i just called you an idiot and i don’t tip the sonic “waitress”. i know.
“but jaimie,” you say, “that poor girl is working for those tips. she depends on those tips. she makes less than minimum wage for those tips.”
aw, you’re so cute.
working fastfood is horrible. it’s awful. i worked at wendy’s for 5 days and i couldn’t take it. it was so bad. the smells alone could kill. i honestly don’t know how people do it. they are stronger people than i.
me? not strong.
them? stronger than me.
however, if you are working at a fastfood place and making less than the minimum wage, guess what? you’re a dumbass. because wendy’s and popeye’s and BK and John Q. Fastfood Joint have permanent Now Hiring signs on their doors. so you might want to “inquire within” about how to get paid at least minimum wage so you can quit hangin’ around my window waiting for a tip. ‘cos lady, unless you’re going to do a magic trick or juggle something or tell my fortune, you ain’t gettin’ one. i don’t care how good you can walk. just gimmie my shake and we’ll all move on.
jaimie, you are evil.
thank you. but on my less diabolical hand, i am an excellent tipper at Real Restaurants. trust me. if you’re a Real Waiter/tress then you want me at your table. why is this?
my leetle brahther, the crazy with the bad sonic habit, worked at a restaurant and he would tell me about these ass hats who wouldn’t tip, and it would break my heart ‘cos here’s my leetle brather working for college money and these cheap bastards wouldn’t leave him jack. (but i’m sure they tip the sonic wench because, you know, idiots). he said that the worst tippers (meaning the ass clowns who don’t tip) were the sunday after church crowd (penny pinching christians! oh sure, you’ll give god 10%) and old people (scrooge holes!).
so now at Real Restaurants i tip very well. probably too well.
“jaimie, you’re leaving the waitress $6?”
“oh. should i leave more? i didn’t think-”
“you had nachos and a beer.”
“yeah?”
“your meal wasn’t even 6 bucks.”
“but, that’s someone’s little sister!”
“no.”
“five?”
“no.”
“well, she’s getting no less than four.”
“three.”
“three?! she’ll never finish college on three!”
“…”
“okay, three sounds good.”
but woe to the sonic wench who hovers at my window waiting for a tip for hoofing my cherrylimeade the whole 10 steps. sorry sister, it ain’t happening.
you’re right. i’m an evil beotch. i am the skeletor to sonic’s he-man. so be it. you’re still not getting a tip.
next week’s epitomb: jaimie really is skeletor.
jaimie” scrooge holes!” pickle
Leave a Comment | PermalinkTags: leetle brahther
October 2004 Dribblings
Category: dribblings
10.30.04
recently, on the fleegan reefer log:
old house smell
funny pickle names
tennis skirts
free stuff for pregnant moms in canada*
scary stuff wav
mr pickle porn
eat me greek t-shirt from eurotrip movie**
bum fights coupon***
can eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches really help you lose weight****
bananas make my stomach hurt*****
why is pickle ball called pickle ball******
touch your head with a pickle
poem*******
*i wish i had some info on free stuff for mommies of the great white north. or even for here in the usa. because moms need free stuff. like beer and smokes and oh wait, not the pregnant moms. they need uh, orange juice? soy? i don’t know what they need. but i know that whatever they need should be free.
**again with the eurotrip? shit, you’d think i had a fan page with as many hits i get about eurotrip. it’s muy bizarre.
***bum fights!
****i dunno. but probably not. because i’d say that my diet consists mostly of pb&j’s and my ass is not shrinking. maybe it’s the beer.
*****me too, honey. and i wish someone (FA, CZ) would tell me why. i’ll gladly share the findings.
******what the hell is pickle ball?
*******random much?
10.29.04
i am exhausted. this whole “painting houses” gig is making me old.
****
a pro and con of gall bladder removal:
con: i’m no longer the raging alcoholic that i once loved to be. i drink one beer and i’m ready for bed. and not like, the sexxxy kind of bed either. like the kind of bed that you fall on top of in your work clothes only meaning to “rest your eyes” and waking up the next day.
pro: i sleep like a rock. and when i wake up at least a full 6 hours later i’m confused about what time it is and where i’m at. the sleep is that good.
and that’s just from beer. i haven’t had any liquor yet.
****
i flipped the channels again last night as i sipped my one beer. i was going to watch the Horse Racing Channel because who doesn’t love to watch a good previously recorded simulcast of a horse race? there’s even a sidebar with all the numbers and odds and things. so strange.
but i settled for watching the Catholic Channel. Mother Angelica’s Fabulous Catholic Show was on. or whatever it’s called. she was doing the illuminations of christ. or something. it basically involved a few stories and a million hail mary’s and those nuns looked bored out of their minds.
then i finished my beer right as some guy in a dopey hat was explaining transubstantiation (spanish?), in a segment they call Does the Church Still Teach That?
10.27.04
Dear St. Louis Cardinal Fans,
Sorry about losing the World Series. I was totally rooting for you. My bad.
Love,
Jaimie
the team i cheer for always seems to lose. mostly.
however, it’s not really my fault this time. who knew that the sox were so good at hitting and pitching and i guess even fielding? although it’s not like anyone got to hit the ball for them to field anyway. so really, i guess you could replace the outfield with scarecrows and still they would have won. so yeah, they’ve got some great pitchers and the hitters are pretty unforgiving too. who knew that a baseball team could be so good at…baseball?
****
i have TV now. so i was able to watch the Series on MY very own TV. it’s satellite (spanish?) TV and that sounds very glamorous. it’s not all peasanty like cable. it’s satellite. admittedly i don’t watch a lot of TV. but now that i have satellite (via the woodlaysons. it was my birthday present. they are very sweet people. twice the sweetness!) i try to make time to watch some TV. usually it’s the Daily Show.
i have noticed that even though i now have glorious satellite television the same shit is still on TV. everytime i flip through the channels i see good times, sportscenter, rap, and whatever that shit is on Sci-Fi (stargate? starscape? SG? whatever). oh yeah, and on Lifetime: Some Generic Wifebeater Movie. thank you Lifetime, you screaming bunch of manhaters.
Dear ESPN,
Hi. I’m a fairly good sportsfan. I love baseball and hockey. I enjoy professional football (not college football though). I’ll admit I’m not much of a basketball fan, but don’t hold that against me, okay? Anyway, I recently have aquired Amazing Satellite Television and I’ve discovered that I’ve got 3 different ESPN channels. Boy, was I ever excited about that! Especially now that I’ve got my own televesion and I can watch whatever the hell I want to watch! So liberating!
Anyhow, I was just wondering if you could explain something to me. Why is it that you never play any sports on your channels? I mean, seriously, you have 3 channels on my TV and I only ever see Sportscenter on them. And? Everyone knows that Sportscenter comes on 4 times in a row. So? Why is it on all 3 channels? The way I see it, you don’t need 3 channels. You just need the one.
You should totally hire me as consultant.
I will save you so much money.
Or? You could just show some sports, ya dig?
Love,
Jaimie Pickle
a very good essay on voting.
everyone who is able to vote should do so. there’s really no excuse.
don’t be a lazy poop head. jimmy.
and maybe you think that voting doesn’t really matter (it probably doesn’t. i know that here in alabama my vote won’t count, but i’m still gonna do it.) but still, it’s a right that was earned by other people for all people. and when you think about it? it’s been less than 100 years since women have had the right to vote. so you, being a woman, should totally be all, “hell, yeah i’m voting!”. liz. (who i’m going to start referring to as Mrs. Cheney since the last time voting came up she turned and yelled “F*** YOU, JAIMIE!” before i could say anything about how people should exercise their right to vote.) neener!
10.18.04
mr. fleegan and i saw the “puppet movie” last night. holy moly that was funny. and clever too. very clever. dare i say, smart?
but, it was quite vulgar.
****
okay kids. listen.
some of you out there are looking up porn on the interweb (interweb!) i know you are because i can see some of the searches you’ve made. personally, i don’t care about your porn habit (dirty! hee.). however, a small portion (god, let’s hope it’s small) are looking up porn stuff that includes children. and you? you’re going to hell. and i don’t mean that in a judging judgehole judgemental way. not at all. what i mean is that i’m going to make sure you go to hell.
so the next person who searches for ‘kids ******* kids’ and ends up on my site (and by the way, how are these sick bastards ending up here?) just know that i’m watching you and i know where you live and i promise that i’m going to do all i can to make sure that your maggot infested brain ends up in hell. and you’re gonna burn. so you might want to go back to regular porn.
see? i’m not unreasonable.
****
laura? can you make me a header with that green thing and that lettertype like how you do for my site that says FREE MARTHA so i can type other things in that other box? you can even make it in pastel colors if you want. i think martha would like that. hee.
10.16.04
gosh oh golly i hope it’s the cardinals and yanks in the world series this year. ‘cos st. louis hasn’t been to the series since 1987 (i think) and also, it would just be rad.
of course, boston hasn’t been to the series since 1986 (is that right?) so really, they’re due too, right? but then, what kind of yankees fan would i be if i rooted for boston. i wouldn’t be a yankees fan at all if i rooted for boston. and i’m a good yankees fan. really. i mean, i never faltered during the ’80s. and let’s face it, they couldn’t play themselves out of a wet paper sack in the ’80s.
but now that i’m thinking about it, houston? have they ever? i don’t think they have. in fact, i’m not sure they’ve ever won a pennant. so, hmm. maybe i should root for the ‘stros in this pennant race since they are such with the underdogging. much to ponder.
****
Tami Spark’s art show was faboo.
i must purchase something, but which one? oh, you know which one.
****
reefer log:
pickle lover
pickle sniffing
how to pickle tripe
answer?
you don’t pickle tripe, you sick ticket, you use it as bait and that’s it. it’s not fit for human consumption. hell, i wouldn’t feed it to my cat (she finds her own. blast!) there should be no pickling of tripe. ever.
how helpful am i today?
10.15.04
new weekly
i watched supersize me last night. wow. fast food can kill you. beware.
*****
tonight i am going to Tami Spark’s Awesome Artshow Extravaganza! at the 215 on 4th Street (which is not the address, although it is on 4th Street) she has titled it Wake. and that sounds awesome to me. then after the show i’m going to dad’s ‘cos he’s making homemade potato soup, and lately my life has been about soup. lots of soup.
too much soup?
never.
well. yeah.
anyway i’m going to make small muffulettas to go with the soup. even as i type this i’m searching for olive salad recipes. and when i find a good one i’ll post the link, ‘cos man, olive salad makes anything better (kinda like fire only not as dangerous) and muffulettas are the best.
heck, here’s the whole shootin’ match. muffuletta. although he spells it muffalata. hm.
reefer log:
short tennis skirts
toonces t-shirt
wet panty porn
the internet is stupid.
10.13.04
last night the Noojin’s had Mr. Fleegan and i over for dinner. Florrie cooked up some great chinese food. it was delicious.
delicious i tell you!
also, they gave me a candle for my birthday.
the scent?
lightning bug.
just kidding!
the scent?
butt naked.
not kidding!
it smells like tropical fruit and not like a school gym locker room. which is good ‘cos my place already smells like a gym locker. not really. but it does have kind of a funny smell to it. i can’t put my finger on it. i think it oozes from the walls. it’s that Old House Smell. so if i clean it smells like bleach and Old House. if i light a candle it smells like apples (and now butt naked) and Old House. if i smoke a cigar it smells like cigar stank and Old House.
******
laura had me watch saved! last night. it was about these overly christian kids. it was funny and sorta sweet, i guess. laura told me to watch it ‘cos, “there’s one part you have to see.”
laura, was it her “prayer”? or was it the part where the other girl screams, “i am FULL of Christ’s love!” and throws her Bible point blank at the other girl?
because those made me laugh.
also the jew girl.
10.12.04
well, i did go to the Proper Food Store the other day. and i did buy a bag of yellow apples. and i ate one. and it was good. and it didn’t hurt my tummy or anything.
but yesterday, after lunch, i had an apple.
and it made me sick.
i thought i was going to hurl.
what gives?
fruit is becoming my nemisis. Fruit Nemisis.
dad: are you okay?
me: i think i’m going to puke.
dad: was it the apple?
me: yeah, maybe it was a poisoned apple.
dad: did you have any poisoned apples in the ‘fridge?
me: specifically poisoned?
dad: yeah.
me: no. not that i’m aware of.
dad: heh.
me: but i’d like to think that i would keep my specifically poisoned apples in a separate crisper.
dad: heh.
me: maybe it was the cat.
Cat Nemisis.
the reefer log has been hilarious lately:
honesty counter not updating
what the moon looked like on the 08.10.04
and, thanks to Cowboy Zydeco, several ‘panty pirate’ searches. as well as the regulars (with variations) of modcore, pickled tongue (and vegetables), and euro-furking-trip. and that radio station.
10.10.04
do you realize that this month the Weekly turns 4?
Four is a total modcore number.
4.
mod.
core.
referal log:
pickle nightmares
beowulf selfish
www.modcore.com
pickle ball
how much money do pharacist make
can bananas give you heart
i’m so nosy, i want to know what the beowulf thing is about.
Dear Beowulf Searcher Person,
Will you be my Beowulf Penpal?
Love,
Jaimie Pickle
is the word pharacist on my site? other than just now? because if it is, i am so ashamed. also, i hope bananas do give you heart. well, not just bananas, but all fruit really.
i love apples.
the yellow ones.
this “update” seems disjointed and rambly. i haven’t had any proper food since lunch yesterday. this is mainly because i don’t have any proper food at my house. and i’m about to remedy that by going to the food store. the Proper Food Store. to buy my Proper Food. food with manners?
tactful food.
like apples.
10.08.04
new weekly.
not happy.
got the hospital bill. holy jesus. it’s a new car.
i think i’d rather have the car and a bum gall bladder than surgery.
i didn’t qualify for Medicaid. because I Make Too Much Money. now there’s a farce.
so far this year? (and we’re in October now) i’ve made $5,400.
of course if i was pregnant or an unwed mother…hell, i’m talking free ride all around. but no, Good Little Single Girls Who Contribute To Society get punished.
i blame the republicans in charge.
because it is my freedom to do so.
and, let’s face it, they’re assholes.
reefer log:
scary stuff when stuff pops out
why do bananas make my stomach hurt (i don’t know! but they hurt me too!)
pickle pops
panty pirate
pickle.wav file
blow up pickle
ships called the pickle
pickle breath disease
scary science pickle page
turn a pickle into a car
part from the ceries jackass (ceries?)
10.06.04
i know.
you wouldn’t believe me even if i told you.
but really.
i have been trying to update.
honestly.
see?
i told you you wouldn’t believe me.
it’s the Fates. they are against me.
as is the cat.
Toonces Whorecat has interrupted my sleep in various ways for the last week. i’ll tell you of two ways.
1. i was dreaming of slugs. then all a sudden i’m jerked screaming from my sleep because there is something cold and wet in my right nostril. a slug! egad!
nay.
Dear Toonces,
Why did you shove your nose in my right nostril at 2:30 in the morning?
Curiously Yours,
Jaimie Pickle
2. i awoke at 2:40am (pattern much?) because i felt pressure on my head. the beginnings of a sinus infection?
nay.
Dear Toonces,
Why were you standing on my head?
– JP
*****
i’m in love with greek things: plays, poetry, Sophokles, Stamos, etc.
and last night i read Oedipus at Kolonos which is the third and final Oedipus play. it’s the one where he dies. it was great. also it was the latest translation so it was very easy to read and i hope that high school teachers start using that translation for all the Oedipus stuff because i think that 17 year olds around the world will find that one easy to read and understand.
Dear High Scool Teachers of the World,
Start using the newest translation of Sophokles, m’kay?
It’s hellabetter.
i can’t remember the translator but it seems like it was a collaboration, a guy and a girl i think.
Just do it.
Love,
Leetle Haimie Huxtables
*****
speaking of greek things, i’m still trudging through The Iliad. i’m on Book VIII. it has become tiresome and boring (and that’s why i switched to Sophokles. am i spelling that right?) ‘cos basically it’s the same thing over and over. “So & So slayed This Guy. then He struck down That Dude, and That Dude’s armour clanged. then This Side started to win so a random god from Mt. Olympus came down and helped the Losing Side so the fighting stopped and they all buried their dead.”
meanwhile everyone is still hating Paris.
even Helen.
especially Helen.
which is confusing ‘cos didn’t she run away with him in the first place?
derp?
Tags: Beowulf, popsicle, the three nooges, toonces
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Dying is easy, comedy is hard, thoraces are chitinous.
-CZ
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