FAQ
What's up with you and the bunnies?
pygmy bunnies are super-cute, especially with the big eyes and the flopsy-forward ears. Also, I'm desirous of a pet, but I read Bridget Jones' Diary a while ago* and the thought of dying old and alone and being devoured by my cats/ dogs/ pet rocks became sort of a theme in my more obsessive moments** rabbits are a) vegetarians and b) mostly live in cages, so they don't get to live off my body. A horse would probably also be okay, but they're a bit big, aren't they? A teeny tiny horse, therefore, would be perfect.
What's the weirdest birthday present you ever received?
Mr Flinn sent me a full-frontal naked picture of a young Tony Danza. I'm now pretty convinced that He's the Boss. Tony Danza, I mean.
What's your natural hair colour, anyway?
Sort of a dark-blonde-to-light-golden-brown. It's unexciting, except that in sumer it used to go pretty light. But since I was 16 I've had red hair, auburn, champagne blonde, black, brunette, platinum blonde, and even a brief, accidental period of purple, which taught me the lesson: don't dye your hair in Israel. All of which has been way more fun than my "natural" hair colour, aside from the occasional need to remove all my hair.
Axl Rose: what's up with that?
I dunno. He used to be the epitome of bad-boy cool. Mind you, that as when I was about 11 or 12, but still, everyone that year had the bandanna or the sticker or the little Gn'R pendant/earring whatever. Then he got all weirdy, tubby, and...ginger. How do you suddenly become an eyebrowless Ginge? was he not blonde, most of the Cool years? How does it take ten years to record an album? Actually it's more like 15 at this point. Whether or not the album is good or not is somewhat moot: would people spend money on what is essentially a joke band at this point?
Mind you: people buy Michael learns to Rock***, Avril Lavigne, and Nickelback. Next question.
Why do you swear so much? And why is your blog so relatively sweariness-free?
I can't swear so much on my blog because I'd get blocked, or some shit. The kids read this stuff, you know what I'm saying? But swearing is fun, satisfying, and also it juxtaposes nicely with my cute, sometimes ladylike exterior. Belching loudly and being cynical are also hugely entertaining, especially if I can do all three at the same time.
Better yet: making up my own obscure cusswords. People are never sure how to react when you call them a bok-dancing monkeysmuggler. Or a pituitary-glandular Robespierre. They look at you funny, and that's the cue to feel smug and superior.
What are we having for dinner tonight?
I dunno, what are you cooking?
Don't be like that. I made Sashimi last time.
Yeah, sashimi is hard to make.
Biyatch.
dumbass. What kind of questions are these anyway?
* I'll never admit that again.pygmy bunnies are super-cute, especially with the big eyes and the flopsy-forward ears. Also, I'm desirous of a pet, but I read Bridget Jones' Diary a while ago* and the thought of dying old and alone and being devoured by my cats/ dogs/ pet rocks became sort of a theme in my more obsessive moments** rabbits are a) vegetarians and b) mostly live in cages, so they don't get to live off my body. A horse would probably also be okay, but they're a bit big, aren't they? A teeny tiny horse, therefore, would be perfect.
What's the weirdest birthday present you ever received?
Mr Flinn sent me a full-frontal naked picture of a young Tony Danza. I'm now pretty convinced that He's the Boss. Tony Danza, I mean.
What's your natural hair colour, anyway?
Sort of a dark-blonde-to-light-golden-brown. It's unexciting, except that in sumer it used to go pretty light. But since I was 16 I've had red hair, auburn, champagne blonde, black, brunette, platinum blonde, and even a brief, accidental period of purple, which taught me the lesson: don't dye your hair in Israel. All of which has been way more fun than my "natural" hair colour, aside from the occasional need to remove all my hair.
Axl Rose: what's up with that?
I dunno. He used to be the epitome of bad-boy cool. Mind you, that as when I was about 11 or 12, but still, everyone that year had the bandanna or the sticker or the little Gn'R pendant/earring whatever. Then he got all weirdy, tubby, and...ginger. How do you suddenly become an eyebrowless Ginge? was he not blonde, most of the Cool years? How does it take ten years to record an album? Actually it's more like 15 at this point. Whether or not the album is good or not is somewhat moot: would people spend money on what is essentially a joke band at this point?
Mind you: people buy Michael learns to Rock***, Avril Lavigne, and Nickelback. Next question.
What's the longest English word in the world?
According to Wikipedia it's (deep breath, now) pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis, a 45-letter word which refers to a lung disease contracted from the inhalation of very fine silicious particles, which just goes to show research scientists have as much of a sense of humour as the rest of us. When I was in junior school, however, I was taught that it was Floccinaucinihilipilification, the act of estimating something as worthless, which ironically enough, was what I was doing earlier with Nickelback. Think about it, very time you find yourself contemplating Urine...I mean Irene Bester, you're engaged in Floccinaucinihilipilification. Don't you feel more well-rounded and interesting already?
According to Wikipedia it's (deep breath, now) pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis, a 45-letter word which refers to a lung disease contracted from the inhalation of very fine silicious particles, which just goes to show research scientists have as much of a sense of humour as the rest of us. When I was in junior school, however, I was taught that it was Floccinaucinihilipilification, the act of estimating something as worthless, which ironically enough, was what I was doing earlier with Nickelback. Think about it, very time you find yourself contemplating Urine...I mean Irene Bester, you're engaged in Floccinaucinihilipilification. Don't you feel more well-rounded and interesting already?
Why do you swear so much? And why is your blog so relatively sweariness-free?
I can't swear so much on my blog because I'd get blocked, or some shit. The kids read this stuff, you know what I'm saying? But swearing is fun, satisfying, and also it juxtaposes nicely with my cute, sometimes ladylike exterior. Belching loudly and being cynical are also hugely entertaining, especially if I can do all three at the same time.
Better yet: making up my own obscure cusswords. People are never sure how to react when you call them a bok-dancing monkeysmuggler. Or a pituitary-glandular Robespierre. They look at you funny, and that's the cue to feel smug and superior.
What are we having for dinner tonight?
I dunno, what are you cooking?
Don't be like that. I made Sashimi last time.
Yeah, sashimi is hard to make.
Biyatch.
dumbass. What kind of questions are these anyway?
** All the time.
***he actually learned to suck.
Labels: birthday, bored, Pet Peeves, quirkiness, tired
posted by Betenoir at 9:35 AM
4 Comments:
*** I disagree. I maintain that he was always able to. He just learned to suck more (which was quite a feat)
burp *oh so f*cking charming* and you've won.
I'm going to have to remember not to open your blog when a workmate is standing next to me.
Hehe - NSFW! We got semi naked Toni danza in here people ;)
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