We're in a Fight

Starbucks, you selfish bastard.
You lure me in with your boast of being a hot-spot and your delicious blended coffee. It’s bad enough to be a Siren, but YOU LIED. You didn’t tell me that I’d have to pay for wi-fi. I’ll take a vanillablendedcremewithwhippedcreamandfreewirelessinternetaccess, please. But you don’t serve those. And now here I am with my pretty little Acer, but I’ll have to take my 'puter home before I can even post this rant against you!
And another thing, when I say I want whipped cream, what I mean is, “No. I don’t. It gives me a tummy ache. Please. Don’t give the girl whipped cream.” I realize that’s a little confusing. Just pretend it’s opposite day.
I wish I couldn’t get access to the internet here.
This is so convenient.
It doesn’t get any more convenient than this.

What? Are you too good for reverse psychology?! I HATE YOU, STARSUCKS! Take that and DON'T REVERSE IT!

Reasons No. 5432 and 5433 I love high school brains:

"How do you spell maroon?"
"M-A-R-O-O..."
"Oh, like Maroon 5."
"Yes."
------------------------------------------------
"I swear there's some animal that's orange."
"The scarfaced tiger?"
"No. Wait. That's an orange."
"Huh?"
"Like the fruit."
"Yes, the fruit is orange."
"That's what I was trying to remember."

Up, up on The Range

I was in Buhl.
I didn't want you to be alarmed, so I didn't tell you I'd be leaving. I'm sorry.

I'm back now.
And how.

I shot a pellet gun. About 15 minutes later (after I signed on with the County Sherriff's as a sharp shooter), I held and fired a .22 caliber pistol. I won't do that anymore. It was very loud.
Plus, I'm better with a pellet gun. You should see the Nabisco canister riddled with dents.

I sat by a man who was unable to control the decibel of his voice. He tried to make casual conversation: "THIS IS A GREAT YEAR FOR RASPBERRIES!"

I drank the finest water in America. (Good.)

I visited the largest iron-ore pit in the world. (Big.)

I spent five hours at a casino. (Boo.)

I heard a 59 year old marriage speak:
"Are you speeding?"
"You're seein cock-eyed. You need new glasses."
"This is true."

And:
"No, I...I can't remember that fellow's name."
"You're old."

And:
"I was one sick cookie."
"You're old."

And:
"You're old."
"You're old."

A Photographic Essay

Photo Attack (no. 1)
Originally uploaded by Sriracha.

I'll let the pictures tell a story. (Mom, you click on the picture to the right and it will take you to the rest of the photos at Flickr. Just go with it.)
Ideally, these pictures will tell the story of a girl who had big fun with her friends, drank a little too much, and then was really snotty by the end of the night and told her boyfriend that she hated him. She didn't mean it.
I also hope they'll tell the story of some random guy who walked in to Brent's house "looking for a party". Um, hello...who are you? He left before I got a photo, but that picture you can create in your mind.
And my favorite part: when we decided on Herkimer, which was just the right amount of busy and we got a spot right in front at a meter that we didn't have to feed AND THEN the bouncer told me I have a beautiful smile. BEAT THAT! Nobody told Kristen that she had nice tits and she was sort of bummed about that. Understandably.
This post goes out to her. Your boobs are great, Kris.

8 Lives Left

It was funny. If you don't like cats. Straight out of a Tom Green movie (and please don't confuse my meaning: I do not think that Tom Green movies include good quality humor, but I'm sure that they include violence toward animals). So as we are terribly, horribly lost coming home last night, a cat sprints out across the road. We're already flustered about going in the wrong direction. Carly says, "I just killed a cat."
We all squeal and lift up our feet. I'm on the phone with Matt who hears the commotion and now I am screaming to make him hear what has happened. To let him know that we are not wrecked. A pause, and then, "Ooh. It's running back. I didn't kill it...I hit a cat! I'm going to be so nice to cats from now on."
"What? Because of this? You didn't do it on purpose."
"Well, I'm not gonna kick 'em anymore."

Sisters, sisters who are frieeeeeends. Are the luckiest people in the worrrrrrrrrrrrrld.

As we were getting ready to go out tonight, Carly says to me (in her Kip Dynamite voice):
"So I was thinking how we're pretty much BFFs.
And I pretty much love it."
We laughed because we pretty much are.
And it's pretty much the best thing ever.

Who Loves You?

Yes, ok. I am the cutest baby.
Originally uploaded by Sriracha.

We have family in town for the fourth and thereafter.
I am holed up in my room to type absent the wobbly wanderer that is Elliot. Elliot has been walking since 8 months and will be celebrating his 1 year (first birthday, they call it) next week. He must be predominantly accelerated. And a future athlete.
Please, Elliot, become an athlete and get paid lots of money and support your cousin who has chosen poverty in career and love.
Please?
I'll give you some Cheerios and watch you eat them.
Or a bottle?
You like bottles, right? Isn't that what babies want?
Wait. You're pooping again.
Ok. A little privacy?
Just come see me when you're ready and you've signed a muti-million dollar contract.

Cub Foods and Votive Candles: a partnership in food, faith.

Virgen de Guadalupe
Originally uploaded by Sriracha.

Ever since she entered our kitchen a few days ago, the Virgin of Guadalupe has brought nothing but good eats. Pictured is Mom's kick a** homemade Chex Mix. Not pictured are the cookies from our neighbor, Pam and the Angel Food Cake from our neighbor, Debbee.
This Virgin is here to stay.
I realize that the BVM is not a patron saint of cooking or even homes, but she's got pull and I think she's doing great work.

Bang on the Fourth of July

She Bangs
Originally uploaded by Sriracha.

Here they are.
Can you see how irritated I am?
If I'm lucky, the fireworks tonight will send down some schrapnel and singe this fringe off once and for all.

All Aboard

Jean Claude Van Damme.
Four words.
One bragging right: Worst movie actor. EVER.
Last evening we viewed his "film" (I use the word loosely), Derailed.
Tagline: The deadliest disease ever discovered is about to be unleashed on the world.
What they meant to say: This movie is the deadliest disease ever. Don't come near it. Please. Run away and catch a plane to the farthest reaches of the earth to escape this ridiculously embarassing waste of film.
IMDB.com lists only one of the many goofs. The rest include such blunders as:
1. No coherent timeline. We are lead to believe that this movie is linear, but if the shots are chronological, how can a man who is shot atop a speeding train car in one scene enter the VERY NEXT SCENE, inside the train with no visible wounds?
2. Laughably bad dialogue. This is only a blunder if you're the writer. The shame. "My God!"
3. Cast. Jean Claude and his biological son Kristopher van Varenberg. I can see why he's not trading on his daddy's name. A little nepotism goes a long way in ruining careers, dear.
4. Inexplicably shameful graphics, technology, and use of stock helicopter footage. That includes the use of a green screen during all train-top fights.

Many thanks to Dan, Matt, D, and his roommates for ridiculing Derailed with great honesty. Their comments inspired this post.