Things just got interesting:

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[Click for larger. Via The Tail Section]

And here's a link for Katie, who always wants to know: "Is Lost a repeat?"

Kim Carrigan's Legs

My site counter hit 17,000 recently. Based on the search results that people use to find my site, many of these visitors were looking for help with their English homework. If you are here because you need to write a poem with an analogy in it you are really in the wrong place. That's right, Nick, I'm talking to you. And just a head's up: My crappy poem titled "Letter to an Old Friend" is not the one you are looking for. I just have absolutely no imagination when it comes to titles.

Lately I've been getting a lot of hits from people seeking the definition of "the opposite of the Midas touch." It's shit, people. The opposite of having everything you touch turn to gold is having everything you touch turn to shit, OK?

Apparently some of my visitors crave "blue liquer" And many would like (who wouldn't?) to buy a "Dwight Schrute bobble-head doll." A bunch don't know how to spell Micheal Scott, either.

But based on search engine referrals to this site, the vast majority of visitors to this site are obsessed with Kim Carrigan. And her legs. I get lots and lots of searches every week looking for information on Kim Carrigan and her legs. Seriously, is this how you people spend your days? Googling Kim Carrigan's legs?

I think I'll start sprinkling Kim Carrigan references into my posts and see what happens. How quickly would I get to 20,000 hits if I started writing things like "Kim Carrigan in a leather mini-skirt?"

Can't I Just Write this Entry in Word?

Did you ever notice how office humor--you know, like the cartoon "Dilbert" or the TV show "The Office"--is so much funnier when you work in an actual office?

I was laughing so hard over Overheard in the Office that I was actually crying. And I swear, whoever submitted this conversation must have been a fly on the wall in mine yesterday.

[via my totally cool office-mate, by the way. Which for those of you who know the story ... um ... yeah, I can't really talk about that.]

"I'm a rocker -- I don't care for rules."

I should be surprised.

But I'm not.

You Are Homer Simpson
You're just an ordinary, all-American working Joe... With a special fondness for pork rinds and donuts.
You will be remembered for: your little "isms" and philosophies on life
Your life philosophy: "Weaseling out of things is important to learn. It's what separates us from the animals ... except the weasel."

[via The Crazy Rants of Samantha Burns, who, as far as I know, is no relation to Monty Burns. Well, except that she is Monty Burns. But other than that.]

Murphy's Law? Or scientific fact?

Someone ought to do a study and prove, once and for all, that there is a correlation between coming into a little bit of extra money and having to spend it on an unexpected expense.

I'm getting some money back on my federal and state taxes. This weekend, my water heater died.

You think that's just a coincidence?

Reason # 837 why I am a terrible bridesmaid

Because when Bridezilla calls at 8:55 p.m. I am already in bed, half asleep, and I don't get up to answer the phone even though I know it is her.

What will the neighbors think?

Put my trash and recyclables out the other night and the next morning, when I took the dog out? Someone had dumped an empty bottle of hpnotiq--a high-proof blue liquer made of vodka, cognac, and natural tropical juices--in my trash can, along with a more garden variety bottle of Hennessy "very special" cognac.

OK, so it's a little disturbing to think that someone was outside of my house in the middle of the night, probably drunk, putting their shit in my trash can. Although anyone who would drink Incredible Hulks is probably not that huge a threat to public safety. Is, in fact, probably a girl drink drunk.

(And yeah, we have our suspicions as to who it might be, but let's not get into that right now.)

But here's the worst part, the part that really got to me: Now anyone who walked by my house that morning, along with the men who collect the trash and recyclables, will think that I would ever in my life drink a bright blue alchohol spelled H-P-N-O-T-I-Q.

Seriously, that's just annoying.

Happiness is ...

Tomorrow it is going to be in the 60s and I have the day off.

Who is a good planner?


Crazy upstairs neighbor update

At the start of February, the woman who owns the unit upstairs from me announced she was going to do a quick renovation job so she could put the condo on the market. The whole thing was going to take her six weeks, she said.

That was five weeks ago.

Here is a list of the annoying and/or dangerous things she has done so far:

  • She broke into her unit via the front door, and left for the night without cleaning up the broken glass on the front porch or covering the jagged hole in the window on the door.
  • She borrowed a lamp from me and when I tried to plug it back in it blew a fuse. Later I replaced the bulb, but that one burned out as soon as I turned on the lamp, too. The acrid smell of overheated electronics convinced me the lamp was a fire hazzard -- I threw it away.
  • She left for the night and left the back door wide open as well as the door leading to the basement. And I do not mean she left the doors unlocked, I mean she left the doors open. In the winter.
  • She has twice left for the night with every light in the basement blazing.
And here is a list of the renovations she has done so far:

  • On the first night, she ripped out the carpets (but did not dispose of them).
[sound of crickets chirping]

I get the feeling this is going to be the longest six weeks of my life.

Read the backstory: part one and part two.