This post is titled Damn but I could go for some raclette

Christ, it's Monday again. There was a holiday dinner, and I survived the gauntlet of one billion hugs. The mashed potatoes were instant, and I almost ran screaming into the cold when I found out, but I toughed it out and ate them anyway. Mr. H's Indian co-workers livened up the proceedings by graciously enduring Grampa's inadvertent racial slurs. I am pretty sure they took pictures of the carpeted kitchen.

This week my pants don't fit. I can't tell if it's because I am genuinely obese or because the parasite made a major land grab. We've been getting quotes for hardwood floor installation (yes, I know people do this themselves, but that's people), and this has been a humiliating process, reminding me that we have no money. Between that and my rope belt, I feel myself entering a Shame Spiral.

Also, I broke the internet yesterday. Word to the wise: the reset button on a DSL modem is hard to press for a reason. My inner monkey tried power on/power off a few times, but then she stuck a pencil in the reset hole, figuring this must fix internet good. It didn't. A smarter monkey would have just signed "Put lipstick on cat OK please cake."

Posted 11:27 AM by Licketysplit

What's your sign?

PICK UP PIE TODAY. That's mine.

Also, SUCKER and CHUMP. The mortgage guy calls from a cellphone listed under someone else's name. The condo fee is now $40 a month higher, and we haven't even closed yet. haha.

And let's not forget SPECIAL. Mr H made coffee in the French press again today, putting on airs and all, and he poured me a cup and showed it to me. Like someone showing a dog the disgraceful leavings on a carpet. NO BARK. Here, HERE, girl. Right HERE. It's not like I don't deserve it. The French press was sitting one foot to the right of the coffee maker yesterday. A smarter dog would have noticed and called 911.

Posted 9:44 AM by Licketysplit

Nancy Drew and the case of why I am so damn stupid

I woke up this morning, went about my breakfast and second breakfast routine, and yet I felt too ill to properly enjoy elevensies. I was going to blame the parasite, and I stormed into the kitchen to get the melon baller to have it out once and for all.

But then I noticed the half-filled French press on the counter. That could only mean that Mr H did not make coffee in the coffee maker this morning. Yet I drank coffee from the coffee maker, and I wondered why it was cold. I just thought he must have made it earlier than usual. I'm not one to complain, so I just microwaved what was in the pot and added honey and soy creamer. The parasite is laughing at me now, saying "I told you so!" Except it most certainly did not tell me. It sat idly by, chortling, while I sipped day old coffee. Misery! I am not going to swallow Thanksgiving dinner. I am going to chew n' spit. That'll teach it. "Mmmm, isn't this greenbean casserole delicious? Oh, you'll never know. That's too bad."

Posted 11:16 AM by Licketysplit

DJ SSpace JaMM

I went for walkies, and I was not disappointed, despite the burden of physical activity. I saw police action, the super obese, an albino, incomprehensible business cards, and teen satanists. Not bad for an hour.

While I was getting my hair blown out on Thursday, the parasite said mean things about nearly everyone else in the salon. Then it wanted a croissant. I can't take my inner monologue anywhere.

In other leaving the house news, the other day, I went to the grocery store and ran into ALEX, ALEX, DAMMIT, and his loathsome sock of a mother. This time ALEX was pretending to be a fire engine. "Reeeeoooooooooo!" I stuck out my leg and blocked him from passing me, and I asked "Do you see anyone else in here acting like this?" The man stocking bulk mayonaise said "YEAH, DO YOU?" ALEX was stymied for a second. But the local retarded fellow who thinks he is also a fire engine came in, and my argument quickly took on water. There is nothing to do but stop eating groceries.

Posted 4:03 PM by Licketysplit

Not if you were the last superstore on Earth

Take the No Wal-Mart Holiday Shopping Pledge. I know this will be easy for most of you, since there is no way in hell you shop there anyway. And I always like feeling effective while not changing my habits at all. That rules!

Although the other day, I was at the bank, and I needed to pick up milk, and there was a Wal-Mart right there, and I thought "Hmm." But then I slammed my face into the steering wheel to remind myself that we don't shop at Wal-Mart in our family. Bad! NO BARK! So I went home and milked the neighbor's cow instead. Or maybe it was actually Drunk Upstairs Cheryl. I'm not sure, but I milked something. Luckily, I drink soy milk. My inner obesity has requested that I switch to cream laced with chocolate syrup, but there are some things up with we cannot put.

Posted 9:37 AM by Licketysplit

Still you won't suspect me

Oh, hey, I have a blog. I just can't shake it. Like the bird flu. Like the parasite. Actually, I'm booking a vacation, or rather my assistant is. The parasite has no idea that I'm going to drown it off the coast of Tortola. What? Those things don't breathe air? Now you tell me; I already blew the miles. Oh well. I'm sure we'll be quite the sight on the beach, as it makes me request pineapple drink after pineapple drink... "and could you add a roasted suckling pig to that one, waiter?"

Other than those expertly laid plans, not much is new. I'm dreaming exclusively in Roxy Music, which is a little weird. In every dream home, a vanity is poorly installed. The new place suffers from some vexing construction issues, let's say. I am not sure if we will actually move in. Hey, wanna buy an apartment in a flood zone? I'll throw in the parasite, and this floor lamp from Target. Cheap!

Posted 9:22 AM by Licketysplit

It rubs the lotion on its skin

Yesterday the parasite and I took a voyage au train. The parasite has been hanging around making me ill for weeks, and now it has started speaking to me. Perfectly logical, I suppose. Stockholm Syndrome.

It told me that this girl sitting in front of us looked like Soccah Stah Mia Hamm, wife of Nomah. And she sort of did, except she was wearing fake Vuitton sunglasses and a blazer that appeared to come from Sears. Then Mia Hamm put on headphones, and the parasite and I recoiled at the sound of tinny audible fiddle music.

At the parasite's behest, I took my gum out and stuck it on her headrest. She leaned back to enjoy her fiddle, and I popped an Altoid in my mouth in case my minty breath should implicate me when she discovered the gum. "Dirty deeds done dirt cheap," crooned the parasite. I became excited because it's so hard to find a reliable dirty deed provider in the first place. Maybe the parasite isn't so bad. We could achieve symbiosis instead of a host/guest relationship. I am not about to put out soap shaped like seashells. Or fancy towels. No suh.

Although it did encourage me to vomit on Mia Hamm as well. I bribed it with a granola bar and the promise of leftover risotto, and it took its patter of villainous invective down to a dull mutter during my meetings. I'm still not above making an appointment with Science to have it removed if it doesn't straighten up.

Posted 10:33 AM by Licketysplit

Abnormal balls

Silver balls, silver balls. With bells on.

I'm mixing my holiday anxiety and my work anxiety all together in my dreams. Today I woke up from one where a client had forced me to do some sort of brochure festooned with stock images of Christmas decorations, but she didn't find them traditional enough, so I received an email with the subject "Abnormal Balls!"

We've all received that email. Don't lie. Whatever. The squishing of the space-time continuum and all my vital organs continues apace. Moving to outer space was such a stupid decision. I should have sent the rest of you there instead.

Posted 1:08 PM by Licketysplit

This also just in

It's November, Charlie Brown. Outside forces continue to vex, astound. Inside forces also unfavorable.

We were supposed to do a final walk-through of our new place today, but someone at the mgmt company who misplace's apostrophes decided to yank that football away. The unit is probably stacked clear to the ceiling with stray your's and your'es. Some teamsters need to be hired to take care of the mess. A hose might work. Theoretically, we will go next week instead. This is really all a grand delusion.

Where is my tropical island? If I'm going to have a delusion, I'd like to put in for a better one. More calypso, please. Oil my flanks, cabana boy!

Day-o.

Posted 1:31 PM by Licketysplit