September 30, 2004

World on Fire

Wow, this is just what I needed to see - just when I was stewing in my own juices, feeling sorry for myself. Please follow the link and check it out. We all need to see more of this kind of thing.

This says so much, I really having nothing more to add.

...except this: Thank you, Sarah.

September 24, 2004

Random Friday

Not much to write about today...just little bits and pieces.

Winna Winna!
Inanna caught me with nothing to do yesterday, so I had the time to go on her treasure hunt! I got 14 out of 15 right, so I win my choice of some of her fabulous custom beadwork. I never win anything, so this is a big deal to me. I'm so excited! hee hee!

Blind Dog
My poor Pugsley is going blind. He has cataracts. Yes, I know that you can get cataract surgery for them, but I don't have an extra $1500 laying around. He is to the point now where he is afraid to go down the stairs to go out and potty. He can't see where he's going, so he paws nervously and blindly at the next step down with his butt up in the air and never gets further than one step. It is so sad. I have to carry him down now so he can do his business. Chris thinks we should attach curb feelers to his collar so he stops bumping into things.

I'm taking my little man to the Science Center tomorrow for the big dinosaur blowout! "Experience the power of a life size Tyrannosaurus Rex and 14 other incredible giants as they use their size and strength to convert SCI into a dino-dwelling. From knocking down walls to taking over offices, the dinosaurs will stop at nothing to settle into their new home. " He is so excited. I heard that these mechanical dinosaurs are very realistic, so I hope he doesn't get scared.

RIP Baby Trash
Trashman and his wife, Jen lost their baby yesterday. She miscarried. Jen had been bleeding horribly for a week or so, and despite Trashman's wonderful TLC it wasn't looking good. She bled so much she had to have transfusions. It has been rough and my heart goes out to them. So sad...

TuckerMax's Big Adventure
On a lighter note, I found this link through my buddy Archmage and nearly fell out of my chair laughing. The story is Tucker Tries Buttsex. Be forewarned, is very graphic and quite grotesque. If this kind of thing doesn't bother you, then go check it out. What a freak!

Well, folks...Have a dandy weekend. I still have no internet at home, thanks to the SpankMonkey renting my spare room, so until Monday...

September 22, 2004


You have ignited a fire
Which has grown into an inferno

Do you know?
Do you have any idea?
Could you possibly understand?

How your eyes burn into me like the sun through a magnifying glass
How I dream of your touch,
sending electrical pulses through me that make me shudder
How I imagine burying my face,
intoxicated by the scent of burnt sugar on your skin
How one kiss would send me to the moon
never again to plant my feet on solid earth

So powerful, it consumes me.

I want nothing more than to memorize every tiny detail of
your face
your body
your mind

So that I will never forget

You. The complete, complicated, unconditionally beautiful you.

Do you have any idea?

Mo Betta

It's a beautiful new day.

Thanks so much to all who have wished me well and offered their encouragement. You guys are the best. Who else will listen to me piss and moan and reply with love and support?

I am feeling much better today. Amazing what some Steak de Burgo, some wine and a good night's sleep can do for the soul. It also helps that my child was a perfect angel last night when we went out to dinner - quite am accomplishment for a 3 year old. Ahhhh...

Thanks to my lovely evil twin, I think I have this cold mostly kicked. She recommended some herbal supplements and vitamins and I complied. So, instead of it dragging on for weeks, It has only been 5 days and it's mostly gone. Echinacea, Goldenseal and Vitamin C in large doses (along with Advil Cold & Sinus to make it bearable).

What a pill-popper I've been that last week or so. Let's see...

1 Multi Vitamin
6 Vitamin C
9 Echinacea/Goldenseal
1 Prevacid
1 Birth Control
1 Fish Oil

Wow, that's 19 pills per day. I think I rattle when I walk. LOL

How about a tattoo of the day, cheeeldren? (My goodness, how I have been slacking in that dept...tsk tsk)

September 21, 2004

Recipe for Mishmash

RIP Speed
I can't believe they killed off Speed on CSI Miami. I love this show. Speed was an awesome character. I guess he didn't want to renew his contract. His death scene was very well done and believable. Poor guy. Wonder what stoner he's going to play in his next movie.

Seek and You Shall Find (or Maybe Not)
Some recent searches for the following things have led people to my blog:

"m&m's a-mazing contortionist" (huh?)
"cross under bed evil celtic" heh heh
"girly cross tattoos"
"ce" WTF?
"pinup goth toons"
"TJ Butts"

Checkin' Out
I think I've been poisined. I am very allergic to Nutra Sweet and I think the mango punch I drank at lunch was laced with it. I know how I feel when I get some...bad headache, dizziness, blurred vision...yep. I'm going home to lay down before I fall down. Take care, peeps...

September 20, 2004

Why Yes, I Would Like Some Cheese with my Whine!

I am just a freakin' mess today.

I'm tired - didn't get enough sleep over the weekend. That's what I deserve for thinking it's a cool idea to stay up late when I have a toddler who likes to get up at the crack of dawn. Said toddler didn't want to go to daycare today, so I had to shake off a crying, whining child (which breaks my heart) to get out of there and get to work late.

I have a new "face invader" that is trying to take over the western region of my chin. It's one of those that is connected to every nerve in your body, so if you touch it you go into convulsions.

I hurt. I did a lot of house work this weekend, laundry & such but I don't think that's it. I got my first professional massage on Saturday. It was wonderful and felt fantastic, but now I am sore. Ouch. She warned me that this might happen, but damn! It feels like she beat me up! To make matters worse, Aunt Flo is in town, so my innards hurt, too.

There isn't as much blogger love going around these days. Lots of people are taking a break from blogging, going on vacation...just not around. No new post at their place to read, no comments from them on my posts... The prolonged absence of certain individuals makes me sad, sad, sad.

I have a cold. I think it's on it's way out as it is much better than a few days ago. My ears are plugged up, though, and they keep popping and snapping. Now you're deaf, now you're's annoying to say the least.

I have no internet access at home. You see, the young man who rents our spare bedroom has a thing for internet porn. Due to some of his little "surf & spank" parties, my PC has repeatedly been filled with adware, viruses and spyware. Some of it I have managed to remove, but not all. There were a few things that you had to shut down manually before you could get online, but I could make it work. I asked him not to surf porn - he continued. I TOLD him not to use my computer at all - he continued. I locked him out with a password, he would hard reboot to get around it. I flipped out so he thought he would take care of things by trying to exorcise his demons from my PC himself. He managed to delete some very important things in the process, and now I can not get online. I have no windows disk, so I am screwed. I am looking for a new computer. He is looking for a new place to live.

The front passenger side ball joint is going out in my car. Yay.

Ok, that's enough bitching.

Think Happy Thoughts...
Think Happy Thoughts...
Think Happy Thoughts...

September 16, 2004

The Burden of Being Blonde in Paris

It seems that there is a shortage of blonde haired, blue eyed women in Paris, France. Most French women are of the darker haired variety, so the blondes tend to stick out like a sore thumb. Most blonde women you'll find in Paris are foreign - be it Scandinavian, American, German or any other origin.

When I arrived in Paris, I was picked up at the airport by my two lovely Parisian friends, Marie Agnes and Laurence. They were kind enough to take me to their house to spend the night and then to my new residence the next day to get settled in.

On our way home from the airport, we were approached by a young Arab (not trying to be non-PC here, that IS what they call them). As we were walking down the street, each of us carrying a suitcase, he wedged his way in between us and proceeded to talk to me. He was speaking so fast and I was so jetlagged, I had no idea what he was saying. My friends burst into laughter, saying something to the effect of "Good God, she hasn't even been off the plane for an hour!" He was trying to pick me up, telling me how beautiful I was, that he would buy me lots of nice things and such. Oy! He went away when it became clear that he wasn't getting anywhere.

It turns out that young Muslim men from Algeria, Morocco and Tunesia see blonde haired, blue eyed women as a sort of prize - a status symbol that they can show off and carry around like a trophy.

This type of attention continued throughout the year that I lived there. Since I have never been the kind of girl that gets catcalls and whistles, it was surprising and flattering. At first, I liked it but grew weary of it rather quickly.

Sometimes I would pretend to be unable to speak French and what they would say after that could become quite amusing. Sometimes, I would walk away really fast and smirk at their attempts to woo and keep up at the same time. Once, a fellow asked me "do you always walk this fast?!" Sometimes, I would give them a fake phone number so that they would go away. Sometimes, I would get so irritated that I really considered dying my hair.

I will admit that I did go out with a couple of these young Northern African gents. One particularly handsome one named Nassim charmed me into getting my real phone number. We went out to dinner, and he craftily talked me into stopping by his place (don't remember how he did that) where he promptly began pawing and licking at me like a love-starved puppy. I bailed - ran straight out the door leaving him with his chin on the floor.

I went back the next day, feeling bad and wanting to apologize for running off like that, and encountered his room mate. Nassim was not home, but his room mate, Hassan, was even more handsome and charming. I never saw Nassim again, but Hassan began his pursuit. He was a clothing buyer and was, not surprisingly, very well dressed. He was extremely polite and charming, and we started dating. He bought me some very nice outfits (quite a treat on my student budget) and took me to some of the most exclusive clubs - the ones that you can't get into at all unless you are famous, very impressive looking or know someone.

Hassan and I had many fun times, but he became increasingly frustrated about the fact that I would not sleep with him. You see, in their culture, if you have sex with them then you belong to them. I was not interested in becoming his wife and going back to Algeria with him. He wanted much more from the relationship than I did. I ended up, as the French say, "breaking his nose with the door."

The unsolicited attention from the young Muslims, however, did have it's advantages. The best place to use my blonde and blues was at the monsterous flea markets in the 18th arrondissement.

These markets are wonderful. You can buy pretty much anything you, leather coats, purses, jewelry. Dickering is common and encouraged, and any price is negotiable. Since most of these booths were run by young Muslim men, I was the dickering queen! I could sashay up, bat my baby blues at them and get whatever I wanted at half price or less! Woo hoo! I came away with some super-sweet deals!

I don't know if this kind of thing still goes on in Paris. Considering the level of anti-american sentiment among European Muslims, it may not. It would be interesting to see, if I went there today, if I would still have a "following."

September 15, 2004

My New Buddy

I would like to introduce everyone to my new pet, Boo:

He is an albino corn snake. He is about 5 years old and is about 4 feet in length right now. Since they rarely exceed 5 feet, he is nearly full grown.

Corn snakes are constrictors like pythons or boas, so watching him eat is very interesting. Though his head is quite small, he can (and does) eat full grown mice. He eats one mouse per week. We buy the mice frozen and then thaw one out for him every Saturday.

Boo is a very friendly snake, as you can see. He is crawling all over my friend John's head in this picture. He is very content to just hang out around your neck, so he will be a good snake to take to Ren Faires and the like.

September 13, 2004

Lebowski Love

I made a delightful purchase this weekend - The Big Lebowski on DVD. I used to have it on VHS, but lent it to someone and it was never seen again (I hate it when that happens). I snatched it up when I saw it like I had found money on the sidewalk - the only copy on the shelf, and buried it my cart like treasure to assure that it wouldn't be wrenched from my grasp once again. It was high time that it take it's rightful place in my collection.

This movie is simply brilliant. If you haven't seen it - do! Seriously, it is a work of art.

Favorite Moments:
When the Dude drops the joint in his crotch and crashes his car

"It's uh, it's down there somewhere. Lemme take another look" (head back in toilet)

"OVER THE LINE! MARK IT ZERO!" "Smokey, you are entering a world of pain..!"

The dude tries to defend himself when thrown into the limo with Jeoffrey Lebowski and Brandt. "New shit has come to light, man! You know has it ever occured to you that instead of running around given the nature of all this new shit, uh uh this could be a lot more of a complex and uh uh ya know it might not be such a simple, uh ya know."

When the dude gets thrown into the car- "hey, careful man, theres a beverage here"

The Jesus - his little dance, the whole creepy sex offender thing, all of it.

The dude says "I need my fucking johnson" and Donny says (with a puzzled look on his face)say "what do you need that for, dude?"

Donnie: "I am the walrus." "Who stole your undies, Walter?"

"Mind if I do a J?"

Spreading Donnie's ashes on the windy cliff

When Dude looks at the police chief and says, "I'm sorry, I wasn't listening." And the police chief bounces the coffee cup off his head.

"ahh man, they finally did it - they killed my fucking car"

Any part when Walter gets pissed - especially the Lenin bit and the "family restaurant" scene

Dude's landlord and his dance performance

The entire dream sequence.

There are so many more...

Interesting Trivia Bits:

The Coen brothers wrote the part of "the Dude" especially for Jeff Bridges, who fits in the part like a glove.

The date on the check that The Dude is writing at Ralph's - it's Sept. 11. It's especially interesting because the Dude's eyes are going from the check to the elder George Bush, as he's doing his "This aggression will not stand" speech.

The majority of the clothes The Dude wears are Jeff Bridges' own.

The Dude drinks a total of eight of his favorite adult beverage during the course of the film. The Dude's trademark drink can be prepared in several slightly different ways, but the most commonly accepted version is this recipe:

1 fl oz vodka
1/2 fl oz Kahlua
2 fl oz cream

Throughout the whole movie the Dude is not seen bowling once. However, every time you see Donnie bowl he gets a strike, except for the last bowling scene - he does not get a strike and he dies of a heart attack a few minutes after this.

Check out a page from Jeff Bridges' website: A very interesting dude, indeed!

There is an annual "Lewbowski Fest" that is a celebration of all things Lebowski and includes: Unlimited Bowling and Shoe Rental, Costume, Trivia, Farthest Traveled, and Bowling Contests, Celebrity Appearances, White Russians, Sarsaparillas, and Oat Sodas, & Screening of the film. I'm there, dude!

According to the "Which Big Lebowski character are you?" quiz:

Why don't you check it out? Or we cut off your Johnson!

The Dude abides.

September 09, 2004

Tidbits and Chunks

stuff I've been meaning to blog about and/or share, but haven't had time (derned work...)

Poetic Justice
PENSACOLA, Fla. -- It is reported that 37-year-old asshat Jerry Bradford was trying to shoot seven puppies was shot by one of the dogs. (go, puppy!)

The man was holding two of the shepherd-mix puppies when one of them wiggled and put its paw on the trigger of the man's .38-caliber revolver, making it discharge. Escambia County deputies say Bradford was shot in the wrist and was treated at a hospital. To make Jerry's day even worse, the sheriff's office issued an arrest warrant charging him with felony animal cruelty. Woot!

He said he was shooting the 3-month-old pups because he couldn't find another home for them. Whatever, asshole. Three of the puppies were found in a shallow grave behind his house, the other seven were taken by animal control, which intends for them to be adopted. Anyone looking for a pup?

"We cannot let terriers and rogue nations hold this nation hostile."
-- George W. Bush, today in 2000.

Those Crazy Cheeseheads
GREEN BAY, Wis. -- A Green Bay television station reported Tuesday that it received a tip and alerted the Brown County Sheriff's Department about the pot in a planter on the south side of the courthouse. Chief Deputy John Gossage wasn't sure of the plants' identity (, anyone?), but a drug officer confirmed the presence of marijuana.

"Obviously, as a prank, somebody planted this or dropped some seeds into the plants," Gossage said. The drug officer pulled the six small plants, which were to be destroyed.

"It's a good thing it was brought to our attention because someone may have realized what it was and could've taken it and used it," Gossage said. Yeeeeeaaaaah...Gossage apparently isn't too educated on the subject. Deputy, have you ever heard of ditch weed?

Displaced Liability?
Victims of the Washington, D.C.-area sniper shootings and their families have settled claims against the maker of the gun used in the rampage and the store that sold it. Bushmaster and Bull's Eye settle for $2.5 million

The plaintiffs' lawyer says the two-point-five (m) million-dollar agreement will change practices in the firearms industry.

Bushmaster Firearms of Windham, Maine, agreed to pay $550,000 to eight plaintiffs. Bull's Eye Shooter Supply of Tacoma, Washington, the gun dealer where the snipers' Bushmaster rifle came from, agreed to pay two (m) million.

A lawyer with the Brady Center to Prevent Gun Violence says the settlement with Bushmaster marks the first time a gun manufacturer has agreed to pay damages to settle claims of negligent distribution of weapons.

Now, maybe I don't know all of the story here, but this seems wrong. To me, this is like me buying a nice knife at Home Depot and then using it to kill someone and the family of the victim sues Home Depot for selling the knife to me! WTF?

I've seen so much of this lately - people struggling and reaching to hold someone responsible for terrible things that happen. Yes, the shootings were terrible and someone should be held responsible, but they caught and convicted the people repsonsible for the DC shootings - and it wasn't anyone from Bushmaster or Bull's Eye! If anyone knows any details that would clarify any of this, I would appreciate sharing.

ACLU Pizza
If things in this country, with our current government, continue to go as they are now...this could be you calling for pizza not long from now:
ACLU Pizza

I went out for mexican last night and got drunk for the first time in a long, long time. It's all your drunk bloggers' faults! LOL We're talking silly, sloppy, goofball drunk - not just a mild buzz. It felt very nice, and no I didn't drive. I watched Peter Pan when I got home and it was grrrreat! I feel fine today, though...I don't get hangovers (lucky me).

The Dude

Just Because

September 07, 2004

Black and White

unravel me
a distant cord
and the outside is forgotten
a constant need
to get along
and the animal awakens
and all I feel is black and white

the road is long
the memory slides
to the whole of my undoing
put aside
I put away
I push it back to get through each day
and all I feel is black and white

and I'm wound up small and tight
and I don't know who I am

everybody loves you when you're easy
everybody hates when you're a bore
everyone is waiting for your entrance so
don't disappoint them

unravel me
untie this chord
the very centre of our world
is caving in
I can't endure
I am the archive of our failure

and all I feel is black and white
and I'm wound up small and tight
and I don't know who I am

everybody loves you when you're easy
everybody hates when you're a bore
everyone is waiting for your entrance so
don't disappoint them...

Tattoo of the Day


September 03, 2004

Riding on the Métro

It doesn't make much sense to own a car if you live in Paris, unless you wish to use it to travel outside of Paris. Problems associated with owning a car include the fact that there is nowhere to park it and that the traffic is horrible - traffic jams are the norm.

Underneath the city of Paris, France is a labyrinth of tunnels - the Paris Métro and RER rail system.

The Métro opened on 19 July, 1900. The system has 124 miles of track and 15 lines. There are 368 stations (not including RER stations), 87 of these being interchanges between lines so that every building in Paris is within 500 metres of a métro station. There are 3500 cars which transport roughly 6 million people per day.

During the time in which I lived in Paris, I spent a lot of time in the Métro. It's like it's own little world in there. There are vendors who set up in the tunnels to sell anything from purses and jewelry to fruit (some of the best I've had. Mangos....mmmmm). There are bums who practically live there (you can smell them before you see them), panhandlers and musicians who play for hours on end for the money people put in their hats or guitar cases.

Soon after I arrived in Paris, I got a big fat refund check from the college because I had tested into a much higher program than expected. It was too late (void if not cashed with 30 days) to mail it back home to put in the bank, so I was forced to cash it at a money exchange joint. So, with over $1500 worth of French francs in my purse, I hit the Métro to go home. Paranoid as hell, I am standing in the crowded train imagining that everyone around me knows what's in my purse. An arab, most likely Algerian, Morroccan or Tunesian (more on the Arab/blonde thing later) inches closer and closer to me, giving me the eye. About the time that our shoulders touch, I am prepared to kick his ass if necessary. I lean over towards him and tell him, in the most perfect french I can muster and a hushed tone "J'ai un pistolet dans ma poche (I have a pistol in my pocket)." I said nothing more. His face went white as a ghost and he slowly inched away from me. That took care of that!

One time, I fell asleep in the train on my way home from some late night fun. I was awaken by the "everyone off - end of the line" buzzer and found myself way out in the suburbs. Dang! Long ride home.

I had a friend, Glenn from California, who was writing a book about experiences during his travels. I am supposed to be in his book, though I have never heard if it was published or not. He put the pistol in the pocket incident in there. He also wrote about the time that he and I, out of sheer boredom, whimsy and curiosity, decided to become Métro musicians. He brought his guitar and I my fife (yes, fife) and we camped out in the tunnels playing our little renn-faire style tunes. It was a lot of fun and we made quite a bit of money that day.

The most significant Métro memory I have, however, was not a fun one. It was down right frightening. I was with my French roommate - Anne, and my friend Tupou who is from Tonga. We were coming home on the Métro around 10pm, sitting in the "booth" like seats, me facing the two of them. A young man was sitting behind them - let's call him loner. Two men got on at one of the stations, and they sat with the man behind my friends - one next to him and one in front of him. As the train barrelled down the tunnel, I saw the man next to loner pull out a hand gun and stick it in his ribs. I said to my friends "oh my god, that guy's got a gun" and, simultaneously, all of the passengers sitting behind me hit the floor. Loner jumped up and grabbed the gun, which was still being held onto by the other man and they began fighting over it, falling over the seats and into the aisle. Shots were going off as we were all becoming very intimate with the floor - a window was shot out and bullets where ricocheting off the walls of the train.

As the train came into the next station, we dove for the doors. I was frantically jerking at the mechanism that opens the door (they open automatically, but some times stick) prematurely as the train screeched to a halt as I crouched as low as I could get. A shot rang out and I felt the impact on my foot. As all of the passengers burst out of the car, me being one of the first, I looked down at my foot fully expecting to find a smoldering hole there. No hole - it must have hit the floor right next to my foot. I was dumbfounded as I watched the passengers run one way up the stairs and out and the robbers run the other way.
My friends and I were ok, and Loner was cursing and spitting on the tracks. One of the robbers had sprayed him with mace. We asked if he was ok, and he managed to say that he will be, so we ran out of the station. Needless to say, the three of us did not sleep for a long time. We had so much adrenalin rushing through us. We felt fortunate to be alive.

Next Installment: The Burden of Being Blonde in Paris

September 02, 2004

A Dastardly Happy Birthday Wish

A wonderful blogger, The Dastard, is having a birthday today. According to his profile, there will be 104 candles on his cake. Wow...someone call the fire dept. and have them on standby, ok?

What can we say about the Dastard?
This evasive creature, Limulus Polyphemus & Bean Town boy, will not allow his visage to be published on-line. He is quick, shifty, and likes to tease. I guess that's why he's the Dastard. Some speculate that he is just shy. The ladies are convinced, however, that the real reason is that he is so damned handsome. That has to be it...He won't show us his picture because he knows that all of the ladies in his cyber-harem would fall desperately in love with him (well, that is, those who aren't already)!

A big part of the reasons why we love the Dastard so much is the funny and clever things he says in comments - our comments and his own.

"The eyes follow you everywhere because the body they are attached to follows you everywhere. uh….that sounded a lot more creepy than sexy, huh? Sorry."

"The beer in the fridge it's yours...except the PBR, that's mine. And put back what ever you find in my sock/porn drawer."

"Sowing discord where ever I go. That's the Dastard way."
"I am wearing sparkly no-pantz right now!"

"I am I can't say it, but I did try so I still win."

"What's all this then? Oh, (large lapelled shirt open to my navel) it's time for The Dastard to kiss and make love to a certain special lady or ladies tonight, maybe followed by a little light sloth-tossing."

"Sorry. some of the below is witless prattle and may be boooorrrringgg!!!
I like saying "witless prattle." Did I just dis myself. Doh!"

"Me fail English, that's unpossible!!!"

"WUTTHEFUCKAREYOUEVENTALKINGABOUT?!!!!" "Better have my money now. I'm The Dastard, bitch!"

"Your mamma has an afro with a chin-strap"

"The picture you have up now is Hi-larry-us! I can't believe someone
actually made a conscious decision to leave the house looking like a

"Thanks for the big 'ol man-hug. Sorry I forgot to put deodorant on."

"Have you read all the way to the bottom and no dirty stuff or political rhetoric? Don't be mad, here's your reward: pener, hoo-ha, boobie, heiney, doin'-it, president."

" like to eat....never mind. BAD DASTARD!!"

"I don't have 2 pussies but I do have a man-gina."

"You don't want to be to harsh with the kitty. It's much better to be even handed. Maybe you should start gently and then add more discipline as needed, depending on the behavior of the kitty. Try this strategy: "nice kitty, nice kitty, nice, nice kitty, nice...bad kitty! bad kitty, bad, bad kitty....nice kitty, very nice kitty."

"I am your Bare and Unbalanced news source."

"I would never burst your bubbles, only gently caress and massage them."

"I like a girl who can guffaw at wrong things."

"Or maybe I'll just mount and then stuff you. Oh, you heard right"

"Hullo Random Gentle Sleepy Peach. Wakey-wakey. Poke-poke."

"The REdasTard had struck again"

"Remember to always probe your meatballs."

"I am wearing paper pantz"

"My mom made me those pants!! Shut up!!!"

"Great, now everybody knows what my ass looks like. Thanks a lot
Fleece. That camera phone is dangerous."

"Actually that is not me. I would never wear a red thong with pink tite-pantz."

"I cloned headless babies."

"I'm the only boob here."

"Did you really stay up until 1am last night like a big loser waiting
for blogger to come back? Huh? How do I know it was back up at 1? Ummmmmm......I, ah....shutup Fleece"

"It's Don Juan Dastardo to you!"

"I am not trying to be a tease, unless your name is Michael or Gooch and have a tub of ass-wax. Damn, am I typing it instead of only thinking it again?"

"why does everyone think they are the boss of me. "Dastard get haloscan. Dastard put up a new post. Dastard stop dating my mom.""

"I did everything exactly like you said...but after I asked this one guy to smell it, well, that's the last I remember until I woke up in a hotel room somewhere in Thailand, wearing nothing but a leopard print banana-hamock."


Critics Agree...
"Dastard, even though I crush on you, you don't pick on me about it.
Everything is fair game, and I love that. Happy Birthday Shmoopee!" - Lovisa

I think he is great, he shows a side you don't often see in the real world and that's refreshing. - Nord

"Dastard, Cheri, you know that I think you are simply the cat's pajamas. You are sensitive, intelligent, mysterious, obnoxious, freaking hilarious, thoughtful, and oh so sexy - everything I love in a man. Happy Birthday! *104 WHAPS and matching giggle smooches!* - Celti

What I like about El Dastardo.. he's witty, not afraid to make fun of himself, insightful and not afraid to admit (gasp) he has feelings and is sometimes confused and angry about life. He's remarkably upfront about what others may see as "geeky science stuff." I think he has a true passion for it and doesn't give a rats ass what anyone thinks. Did I mention he's a real hoot? And even though we've never seen his face, he truly has a sexy personality. I hope he's willing to meet me when I got to Boston later this Fall. What he said to me today in comments really did cause intense passion to flood my loins, which was no more than "I'll make you come... up here." LOL!!! He has such a way about him that you can't help but think of him sitting at his computer, biting his lip with a wicked, wicked grin on his face as he spars with the bloggers. He's a diamond in the rough. - Inanna

That Dern Dastard! There was this time that I thought Dastard was trying to steal my identity. He signed off as Cooter Pie on Sloth's website... and I felt oh-so violated. After all, I'm the sweetest Cooter there is... and if he was closer to the midwest, I'd eat him right up! Cootersnap likey Cooter Pie... - Ang

The Dastard is a good man deep inside. i used my x-ray vision of doom and i saw the truth. inside the spiky metal armor beats a great big heart with real feelings inside it. -el sid

*sings in best breathless Marilyn Monroe voice*
happy birthday.... to you
happy you
happy birthday, mr. president
happy birthday to you!
Dastard i will never forget when you first commented on my masturbation post. then you wrote one from the male perspective. i was in love from that day forward. plus, your a film geek too. love you always sexy stud. Your friend, -miriam aka vader

He's my Distardly boy -- even though he often commits fashion faux pas that I document on my blog (hello! red crisscrossy pants!). I love this guy for his quirkiness, insight and fearlessness to question everything that challenges him. Happy Birthday, Dastard! Fleecely hugs and love.
- Fleece

Top Ten Reasons I love the Dastard:
1. He's funny
2. He's smart
3. He has pretty eyes
4. He always says the right things: "Aimee: you are as sweet as a Krispy Kreme. I will think about you the next time I eat one but I will be thinking something nasty too."
5. Waaay back, before we even knew about the moth flies in the men's bathroom, he told us about his love of crotch-less wetsuits, the funny-name lists he makes, and his missing asparagus-pee enzyme. When I commented, his reply was, "Aimee: Consider yourself Mrs. Dastard", so I do.
6. When I get sick & have pulled muscles, he says, "My favorite Goofhead: Aww..blisters and pulled muskles. You need some tender dastardly luv.
7. When I flirt with guys, he chastises me in the nicest way (and makes me blush), "FLIRTED WITH A GUY?!! Let me at 'im! Seriously, that's good pour vous. But we already knew you were a great flirt."
8. Even though he's in love with Lovisa (aka: Lovie Poppet), see #5 above. (heehee!)
9. He and Sloth are friends, and Sloth is a good, good woman.
10. He had the good sense to be born a Virgo.
Happy Birthday, Dastard. Love you. - Aimee

Dear Dastard, because it is your birthday and ONLY because it is your birthday, I will, for one day only..............................let you be the boss of me. - Sloth

And Now...a little musical dedication to our Dastard:

  • "Dastard of Blogging"

  • Click the Title to Hear the Tune - Sung by Michael to the music of "Master of
    Puppets" by Metallica.

    Who the hell is that
    In the Krispy Kreme hat
    Elusive just to scoff you
    His references you heed
    Books that you should read
    Vonnegut and Nabakov, too. Aliens, Guns & Boobs by Lovisa

    I will read your site
    ’Cause you’re erudite
    The pics you volunteer
    Are in your scuba gear

    Come scrawling faster
    The blog of Dastard
    His comments blast ya
    The blog of Dastard

    Dastard of blogging he’s funny as hell
    Bein’ a wise-ass, but bein’ himself
    Blinded by wit you can’t see his face
    That or ‘cause his hand’s in the way
    Sometimes he’s "Dangsta" but I’m gonna say

    We love you Dastard. Have a very, very happy birthday!