- Anne wonders if she's the only one who doesn't watch presidential or campaign speeches or debates, because she figures the whole thing is merely a cynical exercise in strategy and spin, and that their words have absolutely no bearing on what they'll actually do if elected.
- Anne has to admit that, okay, the McCain/Palin thing did get her attention.
- Anne finds that when she has to walk in the glaring, hateful sun of midday, she becomes Sweaty and Squinty, the two dwarves you rarely hear about due to their stint in juvvy.
- Anne just walked her dog and encountered another dog-walker so stoned he didn't know the name of his animal.
Okay, breaking out of the Twitter!List for a moment, this is the rambling conversation he offered me:
- He said he'd woken up at 3:00 am
- He'd thought: "Hey, no one's around - I should go for a jog." (Which, if you saw this guy... not a chance in Hell.)
- However, he then thought "better safe than sorry," because he's "very superstitious", so naturally he
- made himself some eggs and
- went back to sleep, then
- came back out at 11:30 am with his shirt around his neck (showing his ample, hairy belly) and a spazzy, skinny dog, whose name eluded him.
Okay, back to my own disconnected thoughts:
- Anne had a rocking dream night before last featuring Johnny Depp, in which he was awesomely attentive, but at the end of which he inexplicably left. Wait, come back! WTF? Do I have time for a nap?
- Anne expects you to understand that by "rocking" in the above post she meant "raunchy sex dream." Just in case there was any doubt.
All for now... until I think of something later.
Takes a second and is easy to do. Please forward it along...
http://www.afa.net/Petitions/Issuedetai
Thanks, AFA!
To wit: a quote from one part of the page:
"The term 'siren song' refers to an appeal that is hard to resist but that, if heeded, will lead to a bad result."Then, from a lower part of the page:
"The image remains popular and iconic in a woodcut rendition (reproduced as a logo) representing the global coffee company Starbucks."Some of you may have put that together before me, but...dude. That just says it all.
And it's working! Even as they announce their sinister intentions right there on the logo!
Theirs is an ancient evil. I wouldn't be surprised if their stores are actually little franchised Hellmouths.
A user named
![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
loftio made some Dark Night icons, specifically of the Joker. As the movie itself rarely quits moving -- and the Joker quits moving even less -- you don't often get a lingering look at him. Not enough time to contemplate what he is and what he's doing. The stills in these icons give you that time, and thus make him even more disturbing, if that's possible. They're seriously hard to take. I'm just amazed at what an unholy nightmare Heath (and the brilliant makeup artists) made himself into. And the way
loftio's torqued up or dulled down the colors and contrast of the pictures change the effect of his makeup till he looks like he's constantly soaked in blood, which of course is apt. There's one clear shot of those few moments of him without makeup, just scars. The filmmakers were wise not to linger on those moments, to keep the fear ramped up with glimpses. Because even though he had scary, blazing intensity in them, you still saw youth. You saw handsomeness. You saw the glowing potential and lifespan of a sharp, soulful young man. I'm still so ridiculously sad that he's passed. But here, go get disturbed: http://loftio.livejournal.com/9924.h
- Mood:
sad
The world is full of fucking morons.
- Mood:
enraged
argenfargenblurgen stupid law...
If you want to self-publish a book, what does that cost and what do you get from it? What's a good service to turn to if one wants to do that? I might want to put together a bit of navel-gazing.
Thankee.
- Mood:
curious
MyHeritage: Celebrity Collage - Old photos - Geneology
Yay! I look like Alan Rickman! And Steven Sodebergh! And, who is it, Donatella Versace? Basically anybody who has the same glasses. Wow, they all went to Lenscrafters, too???
Stephanie Seymour is clearly there due to some bizarre programming glitch.
Of course the least surprising is my resemblance to Eddie Murphy. Teh duh.
After two days it became apparent that 1) I'm wildly overqualified for the job, 2) the guy who hired me was tickled pink to discover this and wanted to utilize it because 3) he has little to no idea how to generate content for all these sites he's building. Now he's wanting to know if I "couldn't just come up with some stuff?"
Uh, no, not for what you're paying me.
He's not at all averse to paying me more (once he's "able to," oy), and there's certainly no reason I couldn't write content for him, cuz you know, professional writer and all. However, I have little or no inclination to continue working for him, much less violently expand my duties. Mostly because 1) I think the subject matter his sites claim to traffic in is a lot of reactionary crackpot nonsense, and 2) I think he's sincere, but scattered and squirrely. He can't even narrow down what he wants me to write to anything past a massive generalization. "Could you just write some stuff about green technologies?" "Write what about green technologies?" "Just... you know, anything you want." Dear God. It's your site, you nutjob. Why should anyone visit it if even you don't know what it's about?? And 3) I'm trying to figure out where I want my work life to go these days, and I'd like to figure it out a little more slowly. Not apply-for-a-part-time-code-monkey-job-wi
And yet... something to keep money from hemorrhaging out of my bank account would be awfully good... and developing content for websites is probably a skill I should learn. I was assuming a person could come in and just do the page building part, simply plugging in content given to them, but in some cases, generating the content is likely part of webmaster-dom, yes? And I assume most marketing people don't necessarily have an affinity for everything they help develop and put out there -- they just do it because it's their job.
Fuck it, I should learn it with someone else. I don't want this to become Tranny Boy all over again, only with work.
Anyone who agrees is welcome to say so. Anyone who thinks I'm missing the point and don't understand what website work is about is welcome to say so, also.
ETA: I went in today for about 5 minutes, a time taken up exclusively by arguing. He got mad at me for not working the two days I was supposed to be doing so "at home." (Which, you know, I didn't.) Even taking that into consideration, his mood and attitude had changed dramatically from the week before - all the upbeat encouragement was gone. I told him I still wanted more specific guidance (which, were I serious about continuing to work with him, I should have asked for during my at-home days. During which time I should also have been working). He said he'd already given it to me. "You're a creative person, right?" he challenged. "Come up with something." (Oh fuck you twice for throwing out the first resort of the uncreative.) "Do some research and come up with something." Which, again, would put me solely in charge of determining the website's editorial direction, for a pittance a week. I was sorely tempted to tell him my script-writing rate. I asked why the client he was doing this for wasn't providing content. He erupted with "You don't get to ask why!" I quietly closed up my laptop, returned all but two days' worth of his money and left.
So, I don't really like how it happened, but I think the result is for the best. I worry a little that I signed a W-9 and the guy has my SSN, so if he gets pissy he could wreak a little havoc. But perhaps he won't - I mean, I returned 80% of his money?? I just hate disapproval and conflict, but maybe now 1) I won't feel guilty for quitting on him and 2) he won't feel like he lost anyone he wanted to keep.
I hope. Geh?
- Mood:
hungry
The Bowl might have been ideally located at one point. It might have been a lovely gathering place perched on the hills in a spot where all could easily converge. But now when a show is going on it is an embolism in a major artery between Hollywood and Everywhere Else. Said artery should be rerouted, or the Bowl itself should be relocated, preferably to Guam. Most times when I drive by it I mentally advocate firebombing it out of existence at all. All it does is attract pretentious Classical and other Boring Music "aficionados" (like there's any other kind) who act like it's some kind of enlightened cultural event to stack park your car and walk up Highland in dainty summer outfits past urine-soaked bums to probably ignore whoever's playing in favor of nibbling brie and talking loudly and breezily in a carefree way only attainable by the Beautiful LA Rich.
And no I've never been. :P
- Mood:
cranky
Those who know me, know I am a night owl. Those who know me also know that "night owl" is usually putting it mildly. I do my best to keep things normal for my foster-dog roommate, Simon, but I'm still me.
Simon is pretty happy about being taken out for a walk first thing in the morning -- he wakes me up by fidgeting and yawning and making little noises, sick of laying still for the whole night and eager to get some fresh morning air and light. We take a trip around the block, then go back inside. Quite normal.
Noon or just after, though, he's not as enthusiastic. He doesn't seem to like the overly-bright L.A. sunshine, and once outside he suddenly trudges at the pace of a senior citizen with a hangover. If he picks up the pace at all, it's to quickly attain someone else's cool green lawn and sit in the shade. If you make him move, he'll just go to the next shady lawn and sit down there. If it's hot to begin with you probably won't even get to the end of the driveway -- he'll probably head back into the house as soon as he realizes it, the quicker to get back to napping in front of the A/C.
He's distrustful of car trips, and has to be cajoled into taking them. Half the time when you want to take him out for something you think he'll enjoy, he shuts you down by walking far away from you, sitting and fixing you with a solemn gaze and refusing to budge.
However, there is one time when he is positively jumping to go outside. When he bounds down the steps and quickly flies to the end of the expandable lead, trotting so fast it's hard to keep up with him. When he wants to go the furthest, explore everything he finds and just generally dive into life with unfettered enthusiasm.
And when is that?
Around midnight or one.
That's when my intention used to be to take him out for a last-minute pee trip so he wouldn't wake me up too early. These have ceased to be short trips, however, due to said enthusiasm. They've become gleeful canine adventures into silent, late-night Burbank.
This is a disaster. My foster dog has picked up my rhythms. He is RUINED for normal people. Whoever adopts him will be getting a dog with jet lag. International jet lag, like he just got off the plane from Tokyo or something.
Perhaps we should start advertising his adoption on late-night TV. Right after Crazy Gideon, local Russian electronics wholesaler, screaming away at 3 am and smacking himself on the head with low-priced CD players.
She said, posting this at 3:30 am PST.
*Sigh.*
- Mood:
awake
( I AM VERY HAPPY ABOUT SOMEONE UNDER THIS CUT! )
As you were.
- Mood:
cynical
The only thing I can think of is "Video Killed The Radio Star," but that's not exactly right, I don't think...
(And yes, I'm thinking about giving my Tivo costume one last hurrah at the ComicCon Masquerade... although circumstances there are looking even more hellish than last year, if that's possible. (Four-day passes already gone, Saturday's already completely sold out... yeesh.))
- Mood:
hot
"Iam just a Big Guy with a Big Heart don't let my size foul You."Wait, I need clarification: does that mean don't let your size soil me with feces or urine? Or don't let it jab me in the ribs so that the ref blows the whistle and I get a free throw?
::despairs for human race::
But miss LJ friends, and ridiculous # of developments since last update. See rundown:
- Broke up w/Tranny Boy, maybe 3 wks ago, feel fine. Sooo ready by time I did it - just too many things on "don't want THAT in a partner" list. Know it was for real this time because didn't have to whine in LJ about it. A good guy, split amicable, but TB more hurt than will admit.
- Precipitating factor in TB breakup: role in causing HYOOGE fight w/formerly-friendly lives-two-inches-from-me neighbor. Feud ugly and needless; Neighbor revealed new cruel colors; I couldn't supress hysteria. Ate shit to make peace, now resent him horribly. Working on this.
- Still, blowup was inevitable result of constant presence of neighbor's horrible white trash "best friend" who is a "healer" in the cult he belongs to. HWTBF around so much people think they're going out; two indeed act like married couple, despite fact neighbor is gay. Relationship weird and unnerving. HWTBF clearly in total control.
- HWTBF also leaves yappy dog at neighbor's house, apparently permanently. Together they neglect the now-3 dogs (2 are large) alone in 1-bdrm apt all day, but leave Animal Planet blaring on TV "for" them. Whatevs.
- Grandfather died, after 4 mo's of immense suffering. Don't understand Universe. However, hadn't seen GF in 20+ yrs, so not feeling much loss; others in family not so sanguine.
- Me, still have (foster) dog [many pics!], not yet adopted despite large # of admirers. Dog loves and pines for outdoors. Me=no yard. Today granted him front stoop access. Dog ignoring; seems I forgot stoop grass and shady stoop tree.
- (Permanent) cat had cat fight; bacteria-filled scratches resulted in abscesses. Infection/dead tissue/pure rancid evil soon erupted from festering wounds on back. Vet put drainage tube under skin for 3 days, prescribed antibiotics. 6" scratches on arm attest to my giving cat pills.
- Despite love/obsession, Facebook is dangerous: just found former one night stand in friend's friends list. ;-/ Embarrassed, but obsessed with upping friend count, so... do *I* friend him? I mean, we do *know* each other...
- If we're all using Twitter, does that make us Twits?
and finally:
- Mood:
tight-shoulder-y
I'm not a geek. I'm a scientist.
Simon is 1) the sweetest, mellowest dog EVAH; 2) apparently a mixture of Corgi and Jack Russell terrier (he's Corgi-sized, but has the markings and hair of a Jack Russell), and 3) staying with me while he recuperates from surgery (which they figure will be about a month, at which point he should be adoptable. And the rescue group doesn't figure that'll take long to happen, as Simon is quite the keeper.) Simon's story has not been a happy one -- if only his woman done left him he'd have the makings of a damn fine country song -- but we're hoping to make it better from here on out.
( It goes like this: )
So Simon's here, hanging out, resting, getting used to the place and plastering people with kisses. More pictures after the cut. Click any of them for bigger versions. :)
( TEH CUTE! )
- Mood: hot
netgirl_y2k, and happy non-belated to linseykathleen!May this year bring you both much great stuff. :)
Happy birthday
lovebytez!
Here's a classic card to help celebrate your day!
(Sorry there are no naked ladies in it. :P)
