why i think guitar hero is cool

i don't really have anything to say today. the purpose of me being here right now is to see just how much i can write without having anything to write about. this is probably going to turn into something reminiscent of a standardized test "surprise" topic writing sample. let's have a go.

guitar hero is a great game. there's all kinds of guitar hero too, not just one that they force you to play with. there's like four. i chose the 80s encore edition because i have a fever, and the only cure is 80s music.

when you're playing guitar hero 80s encore, it's like you're really playing the guitar. it makes you feel bad ass because you get to rock out to some sweet 80s songs. i mean, it's not all bananas and dancing with toothbrushes, though. there's like 30 songs and they're not all totally sweet. like, the oingo boingo song "only a lad", that's not so great. or, "wrathchild" by some band i can't recall right now. maybe it's iron maiden. anyway, i was trying to say that it's not perfection. there's no def leppard and there's no bangles. one or both of these bands in the set list would bring us closer to living in a giant white bowl of red guitar hero cherries.

guitar hero is a fun game for kids of all ages. did you see what i did there? first sentence was like 4th grade summation line in support of my argument, my totally b*tchin' argument for guitar hero 80s encore. this is my 4th grade writing sample so i'm allowed to write about video games. also, i'm like 3x the age of a 4th grader so i'm therefore authorized to use words like 'b*tchin' as well.

i don't know if you have guitar hero in your possession, but if you do, you should always always be playing it. i'm only taking a break right now so that i can ensure you know the importance of the game. in life. seriously. stop reading this and go make guitar hero happen in your life. you'll thank me. if you are not sure how to go about doing this, one thing i can highly recommend is "friday night guitar hero wine party".

if you are not in possession of guitar hero, we should probably schedule a conference with your parents to discuss your recent performance in this classroom. not pretty, my friend. not pretty.

when life drops 150,000 lemons on your head, make lemon beverages

i'm currently working for a place, while i'm working for a place. it's like two jobs in one. you should hold back your excitement and hide your jealousy because i'm not in the mood to pretend to be modest. not everyone can do what i do for the purposes of the corporate hor business world. i'm almost single-handedly making the world go 'round. what did you do today?

no ok. i'm kidding, you guys. i stalk developers in india just before they leave after working at least 12 hours and then i fill out a bunch of spreadsheets with the stuff they told me they had done during the day to pretty much get me to let them alone so they can go home. after i finish filling in the spreadsheets, i read the mail. the mail contains a lot of people talking to themselves and raising both rhetorical issues and questions that no one can or will ever answer or ever be able to or even want to. it's just a good way to jam up the system so no one has any idea what anyone is talking about or trying to do. fine.

what was the point. the point was that i do all this for you. i feel compelled to propel the business climate back into the black. we're obviously in a recession and i'm here to tell you that i will do my best to help us out of it, spreadsheets in hand, because clearly, i could do this all by myself. and clearly, i enjoy punctuation.

now while i'm dong all this selfless activity for you, i may tend to get really bored. i know - how could that be. just now for instance, i was thinking of ways to amuse myself until perhaps 11pm (my time) when i get to leave the work camp. i'm in another time zone and that's neither here nor there, but definitely part of this fascinating equation. here's what i came up with for things i could do to pass eternity:

• go do rounds on all the floors wearin my white on white sneakers and high-rise jeans cuz there's a bunch of floors and i could be like a mall walker who rounds them... except, not
  
• drink one of the abundantly free pop/sodas. i don't drink pop, but i may start today
• take my laptop and go sit in a cube with another person. it's pretty common here. i wonder what the guy would do if i sat down in his cube where some other guy usually sits. along with him. because we sit 2 to a cube... i'll be honest. i miss michael when he's not there.
  
• think up new ways to terrorize my boss. from every possible time zone. trust me, there's a lot.
• try to imagine what crazy shenanigan ellen's gotten herself into on the show today. she's so crazy. that one.
• read the blogs. wait. i already did that.
• call my mom. wait. i already did that.
• call my dad. wait. i already did that.
• call my sister. wait...
• figure out what to ask maureen dowd if we ever finally get to have drinks
  

so when i say 'make lemon beverages', i mean drink bourbon/vodka/whiskey/gin/rum/tequila and hold the rocks. and don't drink them together like that sentence makes it seem. you could die. i mean, maybe you want that. i don't know. don't die though. talk to you later.

here's to vegetables

i think... it's time... that i made everyone really sick to their stomachs. i mean, when do i ever do that? seriously. never. i don't even want to hear you telling me that i'm gross because in reality, i'm not gross. you're probably way more gross. i'm just the messenger and you are not supposed to be mad at me. that's the law. don't hate the player.

i read something disgusting today and whenever i read or see or hear something disgusting, i try to pass it on to, well, anyone, because it's like a song that gets stuck in your head - you have to pass it on because energy in motion tends to stay in motion and you, fine reader, are going to be the recipient of the unusually disgusting energy that i've captured. otherwise, i could leave you with these lyrics: benny! benny! benny! b-b-b-benny and the jets! (it's really up to you.)

so, be a good kid and click on the link and accept that i'm cramming really bad tasting goop down your poor little throat.

good luck with this. god speed.

ask and you shall receive

so i was hanging around this liquor and wine store a few nights ago. i know. i know. what would a nice girl like me be doing in a place like that. i think the only logical explanation is that i'm trouble with a capital t, which i won't actually use here since we all know why. anyway, an interesting scenario unfolded before my very eyes during this liquor store excursion and since it's 2008 and i'm kinda bored, i have decided to share the tale of 'crazy liquor store man' with all of you.

i parked my decent rental car and headed inside to locate our old new friend, jim beam black. as i was carefully treading/holding my over sized belt-less pants up while crossing the ice sheet/parking lot, i heard a bit of a commotion to my left. you may or may not know this about me, but i don't react to commotions or bells or beeps or whistles or anything like that. i continued on.

now, when the commotion starts to reach "levels", obviously i'm going to become more and more curious and probably sneak a peak. luckily for me, and you, the man at the root of the commotion was highly animated, highly obnoxious, and was clutching a small brown wiener dog, football style. i had no choice but to watch his route as he shouted profanities whilst marching into oncoming cars, across a sheet of parking lot ice. 'crazy liquor store man' (or clm) stepped in front of a red solara and shouted at the driver to stop. i believe it was something like, "you will stop! i am a pedestrian! i have the right of way! this is bullsh*t!". he continued on as i stayed back to create a buffer between myself and the crazy. this is when i noticed that he was entering the store i was planning to enter. so i thought to myself, "maybe i should abort. the last thing i need is to get held up at gunpoint while i'm out of town." then i thought, "he's clutching a small dog. there's no way this could go south. proceed."

i walk into the store to find him chastising the two middle-aged women running it. they are not surprised nor upset by his presence. in fact, this is their second encounter with him on the night. he's shouting stuff and things regarding this being his second trip and having to drive all the way down here again, blah, blah, i hate you, you're horrible at your job, xyz, my girl didn't do "nothing" wrong... he was belligerent and clearly a zealot. the women dismissed him and asked him to never return, ever, again. i believe the one said, "you're 86'd. don't ever come back." he flew out the door, dog in arm, and disappeared into the night.

when i walked up to pay for my friend, the ladies felt it necessary to debrief me on the experience we had just shared. clm had been in earlier with a chick. she did not have id. everyone must have id to enter the store. they asked clm and chick to leave. they were pissed. later, clm's *wife* shows up to make the purchase that is apparently for clm and his gf, who may or may not have been underage. later still, clm shows up again with small brown wiener dog to publicly berate employees.

so that's what i have for you. it's not much and you may disagree with me when i say that it was pretty exciting for a tuesday night, but i'm blogging and that's what's really important here. all i know is that i must be missing large chunks of the saga because i do not see why one would feel compelled to grab the dog and haul it "all the way back down to the gd liquor store" for the purposes of a negatively charged outburst regarding both your wife and girlfriend's alcohol needs. let me know if you have ideas on ways to fill in the blanks here. my crazy liquor store man is your crazy liquor store man.

and another thing - vodka left me karen walker-y. beer left me full and without buzz. wine turned my teeth blue and gave me heartburn. but bourbon and blended scotch whiskey, well they appear to just make me a more playful, content shade of... me. might be worth a look. discuss amongst yourselves.

it's like a prison break over here

i have finally reached the point where twitter just isn't getting the job done on its own anymore. i need to be more verbose and luxuriate in my words, here, all over our internet connections. how lucky for you to get lumped into this with me. i feel the need for word vomit - don't be grossed out. last time i checked, word vomit was the best kind to have all over you.

i want to say things like artful dodger, annette funicello, gibson les paul, frosty the snowman, and gorgonzola, simply because i can and don't have to concern myself with being confined to a measley cell that's 140 characters wide. mary poppins. orange juice. axl rose. there, i just wasted space with literally nothing and it felt amazing. seriously. it feels like i just broke out of a really cute, witty, fun, tiny prison. whew. david bowie. belgium. this is fantastic. the fresh air is excellent out here, my friends. let's drink it in together. mmmmm. wait, top mine off with some bourbon. ok. now i'm ready.

deep breaths. go.

sheesh

some people can be very manipulative (that's you, random commenters as of late). and because you have been deprived of my fantasticalness for so long, i have stopped in to wish you a merry one. or two. or three. whatever. just don't let me find you with your head in a toilet during this most wonderful time of the year (sharda). maybe if you're caught being really nice, i'll start posting again... but knowing you people, that's just not gonna happen is it. enjoy!

i've been lax

and, this is still not me posting a real post.

i was just in my gmail, composing email, when i noticed something peculiar. maybe you won't think it's peculiar. i think it is. i guess it's because i can't help but wonder, "how am i not somehow involved with this?"