Someday I might get around to writing another entry chock full o' unnecessary melodrammy and the sort of angst best reserved for high-school journalkeepers. Until then, you get to learn how my mind works through recollections such as the following: ...whilst earlier mulling over my relatively torment-free day, I thought to myself: "torment...TORMENTED!" And that is what led to this entry...

"Gentleman, let's open up our movie with a ten minute shot of a spinning radish."



"This music would work better with women in bikinis shaking all over the place... I guess that's true of any music, really."



""It's up to you."
"It's okay. I can handle it."
"What I want to know is, what is this 'It' which is to him 'Up' and which he can perhaps 'Handle'."



I am pretty sure that American Idol has been on the television in my background for at least a half hour and I have yet to hear any singing.

OH MY GOD.

It's totally Peasant's Quest the movie the trailer...

And Shydancer's (see links on side of blog) is totally in it for like five seconds...yeah, like that one was gonna sneak by me.

hahahaha.

ha.

Things I have done so far today under the label "Procrastination"

Used photoshop to make a Jal-beacon and a picture of Kenny Rogers thinking about chicken.
Updated my interests on the ol' livejournal profile.
Made my browser bookmarks more "user-friendly".
Searched for the lyrics to Radiohead's "Creep".
Looked in thesaurus for synonyms to: occasionally, syntax.
Basked in my own glow of awesomnity.
Stared in horror at the following image:

This.




In other news, I am so glad that CNN ran this story. I do not know how I have managed to live so far without such knowledge as: With the exception of his supporting role in 1992's "My Cousin Vinny," Macchio hasn't been in a high-profile movie since the "Karate Kid" era. Daniel LaRusso continues to be the role he's most closely identified with.

Very wise, CNN-san. Very wise.

Take it from us me at dehumidifier inc., there's no better way to start your morning than with folgers in your cup and a nice creepy one-minute David Lynch short film on your monitor.

Premonitions Following an Evil Deed is a contribution by Lynch to a longer film entitled "Lumiere et Compagnie", which is a compilation of 40 directors making one minute films using the original Lumiere camera. (In case you weren't aware, Lumiere was basically the first filmmaker- meaning the camera is around 100 years old.)
So basically Lumiere camera= one take, which is pretty damn impressive.

I figured that around half of you readers out there would know about this already, but hell I'm going through this Lynch phase so I may as well get it all out of my system...on that note:

"You may say that people look for meaning in everything, but they don't. They've got life going on around them, but they don't look for meaning there. They look for meaning when they go to a movie. I don't know why people expect art to make sense when they accept the fact that life doesn't make sense."-dl, naturally

I still hate posting quotes almost as much as posting song lyrics...and still I continue to do so...wrap your brain around THAT one...just try it I dare you.

That last post was quite possibly my most surreal post to date.





Here is something you, the viewer, should watch- especially if you lack the counting skillz. It's from wayback when!



I am listening to yoko ono. I am feeling subatomic, but only periodically, and now I want some ice cream.
I am taking note!

OH PLEASE DO NOT LET AXL ROSE ONSTAGE PLEASE DO NOT LET AXL ROSE ONSTAGE I AM GONNA GO SMOKE BECAUSE I FEAR THE WORST...

superbowl!

IT IS PROVIDE YOUR OWN CONTEXT HOUR!

HERE ARE THE DETAILS:

I am wearing a sweater that has kittens playing basketball printed all over it. I just ate a pb and j specially formulated to grow without a crust. Last night I walked into a half-empty lennys and saw kevin quinn and brian parris playing pool. It was half-surreal, the way something might be half-empty, and on that note I am going to go get a cup of coffee because it is indeed 4pm.

I should be working on GNG billboards at this very moment.

damn I love google image search...

here is jesus performing a miracle- a pointless miracle, but a miracle nonetheless:



here is one scary-ass picture of jesus...I would go so far as to say the scariest-ass picture of jesus I have seen since mel gibson released that horror flick last year about those robotic jesus-hunting hippies of the undead:



(I wouldn't have thought this was jesus 'cept fuck if it doesn't say so right on the picture! p.s. loving the bad hipster/electrocution perm)

On a morning he would later (wrongly) describe as "almost kafka-esque", Raphael awoke to discover the citizens of Manhattan had collectively morphed into giant bags of balloons, into helium sacs silently hovering several feet above the sidewalk. Their almost total aimlessness stood (or floated, rather) in stark contrast to Raphael's abrupt resolve, blocking his oft-tread path to grandetoday frappucino. Slowly reaching into his coat pocket, he focused on one particularly cumbersome agglomeration taking up the entirety of the sidewalk and with a medium-sized safety pin secured between his index and middle fingers, he began what would ultimately escalate into an all-out war between man and balloon.

(this has been your david foster wallace moment of the day, thanks for tuning in!)

I just sold (or rather, had sold for me by account people) my first national tv commercial. Ok, my first tv commercial, national or otherwise.
But it is national. That means "on a nationwide basis".

Though upon reading those last several sentences I have no idea how.








Here is a picture from when jesus went to the mall and got glamour shots:

Hows about that nation huh. Is sure is in some kinda state.

I just listened to this lovely oldschool sesame street song about going to the moon, ernie sings it do you remember? He wants to visit the moon but not live there, do you remember?

Its been a month I hope sentimentality is happy that I remember such things, motherfucking sentimentality.

whiplash redux

A good portion of my last day or so was spent searching for music for a perspective television spot, resulting in a pretty broad selection of tracks for my coworkers to choose from- everything from Animal Collective to that Primitive Radio Gods song that I forgot even existed until about two hours ago. So I play twenty something tracks for them and what do they pick?

Motherfucking DECEPTACON.


Oh and in unrelated news one of the creative directors at this office spent a good portion of the late 80's/early 90's as a white rapper (he lived in California)...kinda in the vein of vanilla ice or snow. You remember snow...in-forMA!
Anyways, here's a picture. I think it's funny even without context.



ok I have to work on editing kathleen hanna's voice out of that song. don't be jealous.

winter


time time time see what's become of me


while I looked around for my possibilities I was so hard to please


hear the salvation army band


down by the riverside it's bound to be a better ride than what you've got planned


carry your cup in your hand


hang on to your hopes my friend


that's an easy thing to say but if your hopes should pass away it's simply pretend that you can build them again


look around the grass is high the fields are ripe it's the springtime of my life


seasons change with the scenery weaving time in a tapestry


won't you stop and remember me at any convenient time


funny how my memory slips while looking over manuscripts of unpublished rhyme


drinking my vodka and lime


look around leaves are brown now and the sky is a hazy shade of winter

that song is in my head in january.

Ok, great so yesterday I slipped on the ice and fell into my car and now I have a black eye. The weather has officially beaten me up.
And now I get to go to the office, sleepy and in a fair amount of pain.

Bad weather, stairs, someday an inanimate object will actually be the end of me, death by sidewalk or lack thereof.

If you need me, I will be the one wearing sunglasses in this hazy shade of winter.

I started writing this last night but was too tired to finish- the first paragraph takes place between the hours of late and later, Jack Bauer is nowhere to be found (shocking, I know):
Well nobody tells me the world is freezing all around me and to buy bread and bananas and all that other good stuff cause here it is at such an ungodly hour and I am so hungry and everything's just impossibly frozen. My car is chrystalline! It's beautiful cause inside feels like an igloo or maybe just the inside looking out of a photoshop filter.

I am full and warm now and want more than anything to go into food coma mode but I am gonna force myself to wedge the saab out of it's tiny tundra and go to publix and buy foodstuffs for to have at home. Usually I don't bother because my meals are for the most part consumed at work or on the outabouttowns but the weather is simply too ridiculous, too ridiculous to not own my very own jar of non-expired peanut butter, to have xanax bars but not one bar of the snacking or energy variety...what do I eat anyways? My meals largely consist of the same five take-out boxes, things that won't make me nauseated or something overpriced from eatzis. Yes, I will re-acquaint myself with the supermarket aisles. I will buy something beige. I will be the girl in the turquoise dress buying something beige.

Kevin is my new food hero, because when it was so late and my car was so so frozen at it's most frozen he volunteered to risk life and limb and truck bumper to fetch breakfast items from the majestic so I would not go to sleep hungry- alas the world outside the parking deck had other ideas. Though I did not witness such bravery first-hand, I heard that upon seeing the road, the brakes and steering immediately threw in the towel and decided to just plain not work. On a decline no less, and you know what that means- imminent danger. Sliding and crashing and explosions and random airstrikes by power-mad dinosaur armies who somehow got ahold of the opposable thumbs needed to fly warplanes. And also got a hold of warplanes.
It was then decided that pancakes were not worth the risk, especially pancakes which may or may not contain random pieces of blue sponge.

Earlier I managed to disengage enough ice from it's car stronghold to open the trunk (saabs are all trunk, like J-lo i tellya) and get the actual ice-scraping tool contained within. It was quite the o.henry moment I thought to myself while jabbing at the ice, ice flying everywhichway. Ice jabbing, motherfucking ice jabbing. A more cathartic wintertime activity there never was, though I cannot imagine having to go through that shit every morning. (note to self buy that ice-away stuff and coat car in thin layer of suspect chemicals) Oh and pizza was consumed did I mention that we finally got food? It was from the altered state of drugachusetts mellow mushroom.

Come to think of it I do not recall ever having had a "food hero" before only cigarette heroes and now I have that bowie song "Heroes" in my head, except it's the version sung by ewan and nicole in moulin rouge..."and I'll drink a lot!" (did I ever mention that when bowie did that song in the encore he opened it with those lyrics? It was, in retrospect, just on this side of surreal.)
Ok that is all for right now because I have to continue with wintry mix '05 activities, things are just so much more exciting when they are frozen don't you think?

THIS IS MY NEW FAVORITE PICTURE OF THE DAY:



from K-Rock news:
...Actor Will Farrell opened the show by telling the capacity crowd all the music would be live and there would be "No Ashlee Simpson Bullsh*t." He then went on to perform a lip-synched version of Coldplay's "Clocks." Seated at a piano, Farrell jokingly pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, took bites of a sandwich, read the newspaper and even took a nap during his "performance," afterwards he begrudgingly admitted to lip-synching.

Beck hit the stage next and performed a few songs, including "Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometimes," from the Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind soundtrack and "Lost Cause"- during which Will Ferrell came out dressed in a red body suit and did an interpretive dance to the tune, which culminated in him humping Beck's pump organ. Beck stopped a few times to politely tell him to stop.

Shaq, Today's Events, and You: A Brief Overview

Shaq arrives at 3:34 because he always arrives in Atlanta at that time. I will be gazing out the window up 400 and see him making his way down to Phillips Arena on a magic flying Kazaam carpet, and then his entourage would get a message from air traffic control down at Hartsfield saying that he couldn't land on the arena cause there are regulations on flying carpets (or any flying inanimate object) and his entourage would be like like "you can't put regulations on Shaq" and they'd have to obey cause he's just that awesome. Plus he'd be rapping the whole time.
After the mess with Hartsfield-JACKSON (how easily you forget) he lands on the roof of Phillips. A Golden Segway is waiting on him. He quickly navigates the stairs and is immediately out on the street when he bumps into Rippy (who is taking a break from the fast-paced world of nonstop news broadcasting). Shaq asks ol' Rip for a cig, and they share a smoke and a tale. A tale about the horse farms right outside of town. Shaq is worried that there wont be a horse his size, but Rippy recalls the legend of LORDASUS the largest horse in America. Included in this legend is the fact that LORDASUS does, in fact, actually dwarf Shaq. Shaq, in disbelief, throws Rippy on his back and they hi-tail it out of town. Arriving at said dude ranch, Rip guides the King of Basketball and Cellular Phone Burgers straight to THE STABLE. There is much tussle inside. The doors bust open and THE LORDASUS is standing directly above Shaq, stomping, gale force puffs of wind exiting his nostrils. Shaq is scared for the first time in his life, but remains confident. He grabs a lock from the horse's mane and whips his big ass leg right over the top of LORDASUS before the horse could blink. "But no man, human or deity hath been able to tame this creature" Rippy yells. LORDASUS, however, had yet to meet the Lord of the Earth. Shaq slams his heels into the midsection of the horse and they gallop off back towards the city with a majesty only afforded to greatness such as their's. Before dissappearing into the sunset, Shaq pulls a flag from his cargo pants and holds it so all can read: Camp Shaq. He scores 50 tonight.

(as contributed to by dehumidifier and coke bref, both former youth counselors at Camp Shaq)

here is another picture I threw together using the magic of photoshop and it's many many...many filters:



And this is what I have been doing in lieu of anything remotely constructive for corporate america.

Hi, I am working this weekend. Of course I am working this weekend.
I feel like one of those "not quite dead yet" bodies from monty python's holy grail. My life is currently a series of elevators, catchphrases and vodka tonics. It's tiring. It's not terrible. At least it's something, you know? And now I am gonna hit up the dollar bins at tower, because let's face it: screw working out.

I just spent a goddamn hour "driving" north on the connector, trying to get back to the office through a six-deep parade of confused drivers all wondering when the line's gonna end, and nobody knew and I still don't know cause I took the first available exit only to be met with a similar sort of madness on peachtree.
I went home to get my workout gear, though it all seems rather moot now. I probably won't have time to work out due to time lost in traffic. That's not to say I won't try my damndest because this is today, and today is the first time I have felt like excercizing in...oh, what the archaic brits might call donkey's years.

In other news, I have procured seven new Beck tracks and am working on six others. So far I like what I hear- "Hell Yes" being the repetitive low point (though still not too shabby, as far as potential dance tracks) and a song titled "Que Onda Guero" being the high, though who wouldn't love a song that includes lyrics such as "sleepin' in the sidewalk with a Burger King crown" (runbetterrunadoo-runrun)- I want to dance to this song like you wouldn't believe.
Oh, and the song also includes some guy yelling "Michael Bolton!" in the background.

Here is a picture of Beck to break the words:



Let's just look at Beck for a second....yesss...

Ok, meeting.

Conversation between two women sharing my most recent elevator ride:
"It's cold outside."
"Not nearly as cold as it was yesterday."
"Man, it was cold yesterday!"
"Oh, I know. I'm glad it's not that cold today."
"Tell me about it. Yesterday was just too cold."
Note to self: message Mamet about possible run-for-his-money dialogue.

Oh well what now. Massive barrage of work is at a temporary standstill until everything is presented to the client tomorrow morning. I am hiding and typing and hoping no wayward traffic person wanders in here looking for headline revisions. Every now and then I add a sentence or maybe two sentences to the letter I began writing last night- it is for my bestfriendbffstyle sara jane, who lives in Seattle and does not have a computer, so my letter must snail-it clear across the country, then vice-versa, and so far so clear because she moved away three years ago and packages/postcards/somethingelseses are still being sent and still being recieved. Sometimes lack of email/ichat is nothing short of beautiful. I am on page seven of the letter- no end in sight. Our phone conversations are so sporatic that every time I have a new boy to go on and on about, silly it's all just so silly and she has been with the same one for awhile now and it's beautiful, like I said, beautiful. This is what it is like when your best friend is four time zones behind you and doesn't have the technology to catch you on the side and say hey remember when...
But hey remember when?

Last night I finally wrapped my mother's birthday present, a present which I spent hours picking out on december 31st for her january first birthday. I phoned her greetings in, and the present would be late of course- the discreet charm of my bougeouisie is complete disregard for timing. And even though my mother is very much used to this, I highly doubt she would have guessed it arriving closer to february first than the aforementioned birth-date.
I am happy to note that events as of late have actually made for some decent conversations between my mother and I, her advice for life-prioritization and handing each level thereof was suprisingly good (until she added on that insane bit about age difference, oh there's the mother we all know and love!). And apparently all it takes on my end is to be, during any given conversation, in the process of eating a vegetable.

Oh, look here. It's another one of my "wacky coworkers acting wacky" quicktime movies. At least this one has a bear head in it.

This was giving me playback trouble at the beginning, so yeah it may not work as swimmingly as intended. But never fear- I shall have all kinks smoothed by the Cannes deadline.

Last night I had hours and hours of dreams running the gamut, running away from something horrible induced by falling asleep at the end of annie hall (?), to scene-end-scenes of a lake and a record store and buying a very small house and then losing a u-haul, all of it ending at night with a dead tree shaped like a cross and hundreds of angry workers on strike. Analyze that! you stupid people that made that stupid movie.
I really have nothing new going on that does not involve work or my sleeping patterns or postmodern ennui or ordering shoes and nobody wants to read about that although hell I guess that is what you are reading about right now. Suckers.
Earlier I went to Borders and bought the McSweeneys comic annual, some pseudointellectual dude came up to me and said something about how good it was and I was like "yeah it's McSweeneys". Borders is lousy with pseudointellectual-types and yeah I guess you're not too shabby on the eyes, unfortunately it's in that "I really wanna talk about Foucault" kinda way, which gets annoying in oh let's say about five seconds. Flat.
Ok adult swim must run, Ciaomybebes!

I'm trying to remember what awake feels like, I'm trying to remember like stanislavski remembers and methodically act like I am giving someone my full attention while most of my body dozes off without me. Dozing off into the ground and just when I think I have run myself too far into the ground I manage to scrape by like a goddamn indie pop song we all scrape by.
I am currently smack in the middle of using garageband (the most user-friendly thing ever because look at me I am using it) to write something like a song for use at work. Not a jingle, just a little ditty I would say due to the lack of words. Although I would LOVE to write a jingle unfortunately we have no cereal or Fanta accounts. wanna fanta, don't you wanna-
Ok, I gotta go get some strawberry soda cause there is never a dull moment.

UPDATE!! The garageband tune is finished and I am now listening to a song called "Two Dolphins" by Sea and Cake. Cake. Dolphins. Cake and dolphins. Wrap your minds around that one, folks!

"You need a vacation. To an island. With animals- cute ones."
"Kitten Island?"
"Yeah. They make you little mai tais. And they wear little aprons.
'"Nice."
"And put on a show at night."
"Now I want a mai tai."
"A burlesque show."



KITTEN ISLAND IS AWESOME LOOK YOU GUYS IT IS FILLED UP FULL OF KITTENS!

(picture by kpq, esq.)

The "Door Close" button on the elevator is a complete sham. Those doors are taking their sweet time no matter how button-happy you appear to be. Interstate driving in afternoon haze with slow r.e.m., steady pace on the 9-11 minute travel time, it feels like driving through thin vaseline. This is all I want it's all I need, this is all I am it's everything.Here is a side note that is only relevant to the extremely near future: do not get on the connector southbound- something occured which caused all lanes to be blocked thus causing no one to be connected to anything at all. Meaning to say the road is a complete failure, and chopper ten is covering every humiliating detail.
My life is currently operating under the control of script revisions and glassy-eyed concepting sessions. I need a nap, and as much as I would love to think that the weekend promises rest, I have a feeling I will be working at the most inconvenient hour possible.

Here is something to do: you are rather dashing!

attention kind citizens:

If you should see this young man wandering aimlessly about the streets of atlanta, do not say to him: "hey look it's tobey macguire!" because it is not. Kevin got a haircut. And besides you are thinking of Elijah Wood.










this update has been brought to you by the committee for monitoring the every activilty of kevin quinn, esq., subcommittee, grooming, hair.

INTEROFFICE EMAIL AND WHAT IT CAN DO FOR YOU!


(all of these went to the entire department, btw)

From: Rick Kourchenko
Subject: NFC/AFT Title Games

Anybody want to get a group and watch 'em? EspnZone?



From: Rick Bryson
Subject: RE: NFC/AFT Title Games

You better start camping out now for seats in that place come Sunday.



From: Jill Spradley
Subject: Subject: RE: NFC/AFT Title Games

Seriously...cause I'm planning on going over to the espn'zone right now to reserve the good booths, and if I have to I will subside on nothing but jalapeno poppers, mr pibb, and a nonstop barrage of awesome sports activities for people who actually suck at sports just so I can laugh when I have all the good seats and yet still have no idea what the nfc/aft title game is.
On a related note, there is a small chance I will be out of office the rest of the week.



From: Evan Brown
Subject: RE: NFC/AFT Title Games

just so long as you can get seats in front of the multiple big screens so i won't miss a second of all the jam packed sports action.
especially any and all pre-game interviews, and that tasty grainy classic nfl films footage.



From: Jill Spradley
Subject: RE: NFC/AFT Title Games

Big screens? Oh, wait I was actually thinking of Autozone.
Sorry, my mistake.




From: Evan Brown
Subject: RE: NFC/AFT Title Games

on your way to auto zone before you go to espn zone can you stop by pizza hut and pick me up a p'zone?




From: John Spalding
Subject: RE: NFC/AFT Title Games

unsubscribe

Nothing makes sense anymore except for things impossible to deconstruct.

I have never been more impressed by Rilo Kiley than I am at this very moment.

Nobody collected the office trash yesterday so I moved the very full trashcan into the hall and now there are a lot of half-empty cups on my desk. Today I am wearing a minty green hat with carousel horses, it's a wintermint hat if anything and even though everyone has something to say about this hat (especially elevator people) I have yet to tell anyone that it smells like someone else's hat, because it is and that only makes sense. I should probably explain that I am also wearing a wintermint shirt.
The order of the day is instantaneous deadlines, whatever that means. It probably has very little to do with the david lynch short films I am burning onto dvd. No but I am thinking always thinking, concepting or whatever they call it here. This morning I think I woke up with something similar to a headache but I can't be sure, nothing seems to be what I think it is anymore, note to self= appointments (make them), pay bills, function. Function, dammit.
I very much need a cigarette and that is what I am going to do, so that's that.

Blog Dehumidifier presents:
A moment in the life of Jack Bauer.

10:19 A.M.
Kalil discreetly grabs a can of bug spray from the shelves. He tries to spray Jack, but Jack takes him down. "You try that again, and I will kill you," Jack threatens. A police cruiser pulls into the parking lot, and Jack sends all the customers into the freezer. He orders the clerk to make the cop go away. The policeman is suspicious, and Jack takes him in too. He grabs the man's gun, radio and handcuffs. Jack locks him in the freezer with the others.

I am working today. Of course I'm working today. Of course.

Via inter-office mail, subject line "we have got to use this guy":



hell yeah.

this is an attempt to change the subject, I repeat, this is only an attempt:

this is a blog-only exclusive, blog this one is for you:

Well, hello there old blog old pal. How are you? I see that you have managed to amass over 11,000 on the counter down there in the corner. Impressive! And the fact that you somehow managed to do this without me noticing? Sneaky! And still impressive! Why am I just right here and now noticing such a number? Because- and oh you better believe this is not an easy thing to admit- livejournal has been down. Before you start getting all "lj sucks" on up in here (which yes I guess it is overrun by teenagers but what isn't these days its like an infestation) let me explain that livejournal has been the thursday night hour-long teen soap opera that has been missing in my don't-watch-no-tv life. Except, you know. Real (er).
How so you may ask and I will answer with a bit of expository information, being that the dude who caused my latest round of nonsensical angst has a livejournal , a livejournal which relocated from charlotte a mere last summer and found me keeping up appearances in it and was like hey you wanna hang out and I said yeah finally and look at us now!
For the first time in awhiles I am fed and sleepy and want to do nothing more than sleep in my own bed. This is quite the accomplishment on my feeble list of things like remembering not to run the saab off the roaad. Goodnight dear readers. (waves, ascends stairs, still singing)

Waking up near 4pm is bunk. Cause now that I'm dressed and fed the sun is going down, it's cold and cloudy, I'm listening to Iron and Wine and wanting to crawl into the bed of someone with the ability to make me as sad as these songs.
Everything new on the floor smells like someone else, someone lost to another time and another state. And while nothing is near as bad as it sometimes seems, the idea of bringing rooms back to before they knew all the possibilities floors me, below the floors, down to where I dream about rotting houses being slowly digested by kudzu.
I can't even remember what belongs here anymore, when I wake up I still see flat color squares, a window in the corner, someone looking down from that railing telling me heads up to catch everything and I still think it's falling somewhere I just don't know.

this one's for coke bref...and all the shaq/burger/science fans the world over.



(unfortunately this died a watery death, or a fiery death, or maybe it was never shown at all. how much of your mind does THAT blow)

Less than an hour ago I shouted "Hey look! Mimes!" because I have a job in which I do things like anounce theoretical mimes and try to work things like "manifest destiny" into scripts without anyone noticing and then have a chuckle to myself even though it's only funny in one little corner of my brain.

I am going to finish up and then go shopping and then I am going to try my damndest to have a good weekend because hell if I am going to spend another two days off wasting away in seclusion. Well, for now anyways. The hat could drop and the wall could once again get very interesting. But for now I am going to spend the money I saved up the last few weeks by not leaving the house or buying food on disposable dresses and maybe a hat.

Today my favorite word (or compund word, if you care) is "whirling dervish". I want that airbrushed on the side of my saab.



Hey look! Mimes!

(runs away)

Welcome to the occupation!

All I do these days is work. I'm working right now as a matter of fact. The three guys in my group think that I am writing ideas or something and I am really just doing this. I am going to post some pictures I think because I can't form sentences that do not include "network", "connection" or "five bars".

Here is a picture from my office where I am now:

Dog on wheels:

Watching people eat at the majestic...or rather pour pepper all over the food:

Feets between sets:

The saddest shower ever, this is from october i think:

Invitation to a princess:

Gimme clothing:

Here is a picture from new years morning. I seem distracted and kevin looks sick. Yeah, I don't remember:

Jenn spinning records for me to half pay attention to:


back to the work, then the rain, the the winter front.

here is a picture of a dog named dogzilla:

He is trying to go incognito, but because he is a dog he does not realize that he picked the worst disguise ever. I can totally recognize that dog.

here is a picture of what happened when the lab attempted to breed a taco and a pizza:

let this serve as an example of how cruel genetics can be. and also, how delicious.

your questions, answered!

stephanie tanner joined a sorority how lame is that. god, at least try and be interesting. get a twin or something, it worked for your sister.

Nights are difficult and my brain has been unraveling for years. Pictures brought to you by google image search and by viewers like you.

(this has been edited down to two lines of it's original content)

from the i-chat archives...

(screen names obviously changed)

personB: i wish i had a time machine

personB: or atleast something to make it a bit later

Jill: so if you had a time machine all you would use it for was to go three hours into the future?

personB: or 45 minutes

personB: well

personB: i guess not a time machine then

personB: a time quickener

Jill: i would use a time machine to go back to 1985 and kidnap Michael J.Fox from the set of Back to the Future and then go a few years in the future and deposit him on the set of Back to the Future 2...and while i was there I would take Christopher Lloyd to present day and show him what happens to his career should he continue to be in movies, thereby stopping production on baby geniuses 2 before it starts and fucking with marty mcfly's head for no real reason.

Jill: oh and to race my time machine against the delorean

Jill: that too

I do not like this morning. This morning keeps trying to hide me under a thinning layer of fog or maybe just cigarette smoke, it's sunny now but my job just feels like any desk job with meetings and more meetings, me yawning in the corner, I feel motion sick from walking in circles around cubicles. Stop talking about the differences between lexus and bmw sport suvs, just stop talking period.
Every night I want to swing around for an unacceptably long hug and maybe my sleeping patterns will fix themselves into normal. Or not. I don't know what I want really either except to have this morning dread drowned out by pianos and foxhunts, traffic and someone saying wakeup wakeup wakeup softly so the people on the other side of the headboard won't be disturbed.
One hour and then tacos.

the earl on christmas night, what seems like months ago but really just three weeks:

Nothing can wreck a girl's already so/so feelings towards advertising quite like a stay in the cubicle past 11pm when she has already been basking in the glow of florescent light since 10-ok well closer to 11am. Well maybe there are other things or maybe not, some of me is in flux right now and some of me went to sleep years ago so I suppose it's better not to try and sort anything out at the moment. Let's be beautiful and physics and let's let mechanics fall will they will.

today I made a shirt, well sort of- it was once a dress and then I pulled out the scissors and insta-altered like mad:


too much to think like we were astronauts caught in our own gravitational pull.

sleep.

Cingular
:30 Television
"Game On"

Open on a cheeseburger spinning in mid-air. It spins faster and slowly morphs into a spinning basketball.

Pull back to reveal a crowded basketball game.

SFX: Crowds cheering, whistles blowing, general basketball noise.

Focus in on Shaquille O'Neal, who slam-dunks the basketball.

SFX: Guitar solo.

The moment Shaq hits the ground after slam the camera cuts to a close-up. He turns around to reveal he is eating a cheeseburger.
Shaq gives the camera a big "thumbs-up" and begins to speak:

SHAQ: Science is fun!

TITLE CARD: Cingular. Raising the bar.

Good morning. I was dumped last week.
Or rather, I just woke up from a pleasant dream with a violent end, here is me after, in the morning:



Sorry, I am trying to make myself feel better. I keep repeating that I have already been asked out three times since, unfortunately I do not feel like leaving the house...no I'd rather torture myself through livejournal posts and secretly yelling to someone that we were supposed to go see that movie and while I am at home wallowing in self-pity others are having big fun innapropriate jailbait weekend '05.
Somebody wake me up please I am so close to being out of this haze I just know it.