The great thing about blogging on the weekends is that you can do it in your underwear. Which I am currently doing. It's Sunday and I just can't bring myself to put on pants. Suck it.I just put something called "silksheen" on my hair. Damn Bishops Rock-n-Roll Barbershop and their punkishly suggestive stylists. How can toddler hair have "fly-aways"? Did I REALLY need anything else to help plaster my wisps to my head? Apparently so. I am a sucker. If the chick had also suggested that snorting the line of coke formed with a comb on the hand mirror added volume, I probably would've taken to it with both nostrils. So now I'm staring at my hair in the mirror and it looks disco shiny. I suppose that'll be helpful at night if I need to flag down a taxi. I'll just use my hair as a reflector. Awesome.
I realize I didn't really blog much last week...and I'm sorry. I meant to. I also meant to mention that I got reviewed on Ask and Ye Shall Receive...and that went rather well, I think. Some suggestions I agreed with...some I shall haughtily refute. I always find myself to be more contrary when I'm not wearing pants. And I like it.
Anyway, there were a lot of things I meant write about last week. But some shit went down with work, friendships, Paris Hilton and the like, and frankly I don't want to talk about any of it. Monday is the meeting about the Account Management position. Still don't know what I'm going to do. If anyone out there wants to offer me a kick ass job where I could write in some capacity so I could leave email marketing all together...you know...let me know. Whatever it is, I'll take it...as long as it keeps me at the level of luxury I currently enjoy. Basement apartment luxury. Pabst Blue Ribbon luxury. Clothes from Target luxury. I know. I know. But really, I'll be a great employee. I'll even wear pants. And my hair will be shiny. That's pretty much my resume, right there. You see why I have problems.
I have to go. My laptop is making gurgling noises again. I spilled a bottle of Rolling Rock on the keyboard two years ago and since then...well...it's never been the same. Every once in a while it starts randomly making 'drowning person' noises and it freaks my shit out. I feel like listeing to Tom Waits anyway, so I'm going to have to go wrestle the iPod from the steely death-grip of Kansas. I'll probably win. He won't be expecting a pantless assault...so it's the perfect moment.
16 keep(s) me blogging:
you have been missed...appparently not only by myself but also by your pants. they're calling out to you kara; go to them.
actually, i support no-pants-blogging. lets hope that idea spreads like a disease. we'll all write better with the wind beneath our....
How is that you make blogging sound so hawt? Writing in your underwears, you are so naughty!
(Don't be sorry for not blogging, sheesh. Have a life first)
Kansas listens to Steely Dan? Rawk on!
Obviously Ask and Ye Shall Receive has never seen where you live. Your blog's messiness is a perfect match for that within which you live, granted alot of it's retro messiness but still...and a little tmi regarding your pantlessness thank you.
You are a little bit awesome. Or a lot awesome, depending on how much I've been drinking.
I'll be back.
Oh...and greetings from the inland Northwest.
The "inland Northwest"....(snort, snicker).
I blog in my knickers and nothing else quite a bit.
I knew something was wrong when you had nothing to say about the travails of Paris - in jail, out of jail, in jail again. Oooh, the drama.
macoosh - you know, i don't like "no pants" and "disease" to be in the same paragraph. it makes something that is just so right sound so wrong. now let's get to the good stuff...how hot is your roommate?
Or - well, they weren't my fancy skivvies...they're more like shorts. thin, cotton shorts. with polka dots. a theme? maybe.
ax - i fucking hate steely dan. that's actually a sore subject with the both of us.
future - i won't censor myself for you, lady. if its underwear i am wearing...then its underwear i shall speak of.
kristi - can i just refill your glass there? it's looking a little low.
love bites - well, i had accoutrement. boots. wife beater tank top. i mean...i had to take out the garbage and stuff and there's a limit to what the neighbors are willing to witness.
jill - i KNOW huh? did you hear she screamed for her MOMMY IN THE COURTROOM? i almost peed myself with joy.
Are we allowed to imagine you running around the house pantless?
Wow... you have nothing to say about Paris?
goranas - who am i? the thought police?
thinker - oh, i've had PLENTY to say about Paris...but then...so has everyone else and i strive to be unique. or something.
Sounds like someone was too busy not wearing pants to give one's sister the props that she deserves for beautifying one's blog site. For shame!
And Kansas better not listen to Peter Frampton or Rush, else we shall have to have a talk.
hahaha, my roomate is very hot actually...but madly in love with his swing dancing girlfriend. wah wah.
waif - way to delete things! woohoo! everyone cheer!
kansas hates rush...don't know about frampton. and he doesn't share my inexpicable love of Styxx. oh well.
macoosh - well she'll be easy to take care of.
I am blogging in my bra and pants. Huh, I guess I got the dress code wrong. Whoops.
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