Skittles

I think I speak for about 12% of the American populace when I say Skittles commercials are just plain frickin' wierd... I mean come on, the stuff these people come up with has to be drug-induced, because the average person looks at the subject matter with a scowl on his face (I've been running tests).
So yes, I get that you guys are trying to be creative and outside-of-the-box thinkers, but candy-sharing deer, opera-singing rabbits, and sprouts of abdomen-foliage... lilbit creeptastic, Skittles.
I never really liked Skittles, anyway... makes my spit taste like quarter-waters.

So I've been writing a new language...

Does that make me lame? I mean, I know I'm a total geek, but does that push me into dweeb territory?
Well, whatever you may think, I'm wondering if there's a language creation software on the market, but, like, for free. I don't need it bad enough to spend money on it...
Aww, pekeshuto, Imet lete so nessenakka ta nezigo.
Darn right.

Je nes sais quois...

Our romance was a heartbeat, this heartbeat is a drum.
This drum played out a rhythm, I killed it under my thumb.
My thumb hit the Escape key, I had to get away.
Away is where I'm running, so your love is just another nothing...
Heavy hit the back beat, the hit was to your head.
Your head was hanging low, so low, I thought you might be dead.
Your death was like a gunshot, the gun was my hello.
Hello turned into goodbye, but I couldn't let you go.

A Nursery Rhyme for the Present

Two little monkeys jumping on the bed;
One fell off and bumped his head.
Mama called the doctor, and the doctor said:
"Your insurance isn't accepted here, I'm sorry, ma'am."

You know how...

...when you go to the bathroom and try to get the toilet paper to start up, but friction has it stuck to the roll, so you're eyebrows knit together while you pinch, rub, and coochy coochy coo the tissue into your fingertips?

I think I'm going to start carrying a glue stick around and reattaching the toilet paper end back onto the roll, just to make it more frustrating. Then bathroom grunts will really mean something.

Funderful.

We've been talking about words that should be removed from the common vocabulary. A few of them are Funderful, of course, Scrumptious, and Drinkability. I'm thinking we should add 'tastic' to the ends of odd words to make them interesting, because... because I said so. Skagtastic, Funktastic, Stanktastic, Freaktastic... those are nice. Especially skagtastic, seeing as it means nothing whatsoever.

Some great words that get no play are High-falutin', Skylarking, Crimanitsy, and Flugtag. I'm pretty sure Flugtag is a noun, but I still like it. Applezapper, Pickleprune, and Rustysucker are some good doubled up words. Rustysucker is definitely going to get some use this week.

I'm not sure where I was headed with this, but... oh, yeah, Mason is a high-falutin' skagtastic sonuva snake-bellied rhinocerous jaw.
And you can take that to the bank.

Today has been really sans-disappointment.

So, the Boy Wonder and I baked cookies, and although they came out slightly less than satisfactory, the actual making them part was awesome. Much like having children, I hear. Since when does a polvorone recipe call for flour? That's redonkulous. I have never once used flour the past seven years I've been making them, and now the worldwide recipe has changed? Bullshot. I call bullshot on that.
Yesterday was a good day, which turned into a great night, dawning upon a magnificent morning, sprawling into a very nice evening, so far. We'll see. The Boy Wonder is my wonderdrug.

I need to think up some new tutorials. Meaning I need to think up some new sewing ideas. Seeing as I have most of the week free, and barely any money to spend on outside recreation, I'll have to expend my energies into crafty areas. I have been wanting to make a new corset, but I don't have any good black fabric, and, seriously, the garment should be somewhat allowed to match with most of the clothing I own.

I kind of have a craving for another one of those polvorones...

Tea for who?

I love tea. I think, if the food pyramid were still made of blocks and not pizza slices, tea would be the 6th food group.
Just below bread.
Making it the most important. Ever.
The only problem is the severity of my addiction to it. I find it's the better part of impossible to conduct daily affairs without engaging in a morning tête à tête with a steaming cup of the herbal. It's like coffee, but without fourth-grade-teacher-breath sliding around on your tongue.
Lately, I barely even bask in the loveliness of it long enough to remember what flavor I drank. First it's six spoon sips. Next, five cautious rim slurps. Then, two warmth-inducing swallows. Now I've begun to gulp, and just before I see the bottom of the mug, I start to hate myself.
But I sure love tea.

It's Tuesday for you, a little past Saturday for me.

I suppose today was a good one. Work went okay, despite a few setbacks here or there.

For the record, I was NOT, under any context, making sexytime in the warehouse Sunday afternoon. I'm not even sure how far the word will spread, but this is me we're talking about. I know I'm me and a best friend of the greater populace, but really, I'm only capable of so much. Next time catch me in the middle of a Friday night chat in Receiving. THEN we can attest to my indiscretions.

In other news, I thought I hit a frog while driving home tonight. Seeing as Connecticut winters wouldn't allow for a frog to be anywhere near my location, though, I decided it was a leaf and saved the prayer for another morsel of street carnage.

Tidbit of the day: "I always get a little nervous when three Mexican men are huddled around a jukebox cuing up Brian Adams." - Kevin