*BOOM*

11/30/01

I am particular. One of the things I am especially particular about is food. Today brought me two things to be happy about in the food department-the tortillas from Trader Joe's, and the happy discovery that my favorite spice company, Penzey's, has expanded their website. Now you can read all about properly identifying cinnamon and cassia, and learn to differentiate Hungarian and Californian paprika. I can hear your shrieks of delight. Try to settle down.

Yep, I'm still obsessed with Burned Bun. Today, the site has some annoying pop-ups and such, but click here for more info on kogepan and his buddies. You'll also find a page of fabulous products, including comic books, that would be welcome gifts.

I will be spending the weekend applying feathers to various items of clothing and household appliances. I have a bad history with glue, but am hopeful all will go as planned.

11/29/01

This morning, I discovered my hero Kogepan and I have much in common. Check here to see a list of his moods, which range from "in bed sulking" to "negligence". I never knew negligence was a mood, but it explains a lot.

I was all excited because of the UCLA Internet Report, which shows that internet users watch less television, and that there's been about a five percent jump in netted-up households. Then I read that the study was funded by AOL/Time Warner and Microsoft, and that Neilson insists that TV watching is actually up for internet users. Since all I watch is pro wrestling, I'm not sure which might be right. If you think you know, tell me.

You need new jewelry. You should be shiny all the time. Perhaps you want to buy me a present. She can help. And for the unemployed, it's all on sale. Look at the bees, and wonder how she does it. I sure as hell don't know.

11/28/01

I have a new obsession- another cute and scary product that appears to be a large, slightly burned, bun filled with either cream or red bean paste, that tries to rescue other non-burned buns from the oven. He likes to travel, and gets drunk on milk. Look here for a brief bio and freaky picture. This is a fairly frightening page with a large number of different bun-friends pictured, and confusing comments. Apparently, my new little buddy is a quitter, who smears chocolate on his head to be popular. I love him anyway. In fact, I love him even more than I did. Hurrah for Kogepan!

Tonight, it's off to the Grand Illusion for a showing of American Astronaut. It will be a fine day when i am a zillionaire and can purchase fancy seats that are actually comfortable for these fine indy theaters. Assuming that these specialist websites don't all collapse in the coming year.

11/27/01

Yesterday, I spent a couple hours looking at pillows with paul, and ranting a fair amount. In honor of Pillow Day, here's an old bit from the writing game I play, and which I am currently behind on...

His snore is a baseball sailing out of the park and through a warehouse window. His snore is the march of nazi boots through Belgium. His snore echoes through the parabolic mattress springs like a timpani's ghost.His snore is the stallion pulling Apollo's flaming chariot through the sky. His snore is blessed by Hecate, and feared by Hypnos. His snore is a thunderhead over a preschool. His snore is a depth charge. His snore is a perpetual motion machine.

She is equipped with the talismans of the night. She is armed and dangerous. Her weapons are known as Pillow Friend and Pillow Buddy; their sweetly muffled violence should not be dismissed. She is protected with heavy German flannel and weightless German down. Her true armor is a silky almost-nothing, allowing her to slip soundlessly away from everything but sound. She floats, seemingly invincible, on a dirigible diguised as a mattress. As a special precaution for this evening's battle, she has swallowed two of the small pink ones, two of the bitter white ones with the numbers on the back, one of the awful brown ones. What doesn't kill her makes her stronger. She is blanketed in 400 thread count justice, but seeks only mercy. Mercy consents, and she dreams of courtesans and poets.

His snore is building pyramids in Egypt. His snore is arranging the mysteries of Stonehenge. His snore is the molting of Kaliya, the great serpent. His snore inspired the invention of gunpowder. His snore has banished the princess from her kingdom. She searches for her golden ball in the woods, but finds only dwarves with pickaxes.

Also, I like chickens. I especially like kosher chickens singing The Dreidel Song.

11/26/01 Notes from thanksgiving: the rich get richer, the poor go to hell. if meat is murder, than i spent three hours basting murder with butter. murder can be most succulent. are other food groups somehow aligned with other crimes? Vegetables are burglary. Bread is rape. Soup is perjury. in the last depression, people worked for the government and sold things like apples and pencils. now they make cartoons to pay their rent. the harry potter owls weren't that bad at all. the geeky morons behind us who kept offering each other stepped-on junior mints and yelling "go gryffindor" were very bad indeed. it's sort of nice when the audience is the worst thing about a movie.

11/20/01 today is a day i'm particularly happy to be forever childless. a pregnant friend is going through nightmare baby-health problems, with accompanying awful tests and long waiting periods for results. all i have to worry about is where to eat dinner tonight, and an opener for an article on pie. yesterday i decided that truth is not, in fact, beauty. today that was confirmed by the existence of this and the fact that My Brother declares it to be a good movie. tonight, we are off to experience harry potter. i am dreading the CG owls, but am looking forward to the rest.

later,11/15- Props to My Brother for helping me sort out the mysteries of html tags. If you run across a tank of ether, send it to him for me.

11/15/01 The compulsive journal-burner has decided to start writing online. Will she keep current with it? Nobody knows. Will she ever send the link to any friends or relations? Time will tell. That bastard time is quite the blabbermouth.