kjpepper: (moonbeam (lazy))
Dear Dad's cat,

Staring at me hatefully at me first thing in the morning is not going to make different tastier food appear in your bowl. I'm sorry you feel your diet kibble isn't acceptable nutrition, but unfortunately that's what you're stuck with until at least the bag is empty.

Also, it's probably not a good idea to twine yourself between my feet when I'm in the hallway trying to work out. This is likely to get you booted across the room rather than petted and snuggled.

Lastly, I've got a pretty major craft project to finish before next weekend. I would appreciate it if you wouldn't take swipes at it whenever I happen to make it move. Also stop staring at it like prey. It makes me nervous.

All that said, you're pretty damn cute when you're not being a total asshole.

Much Love,



Mar. 17th, 2009 12:26 pm
kjpepper: (oh HELL NO)
Dear Network soon to be known as "Syfy,"

In the words of that guy who method acts Batman with a bad head cold, "You and me? We're fucking done professionally."

No love,



Feb. 24th, 2009 07:35 am
kjpepper: (got PMS?)
Dear Uterus,

I mean seriously, cut it out. It isn't funny anymore.

No love whatsoever,



Feb. 13th, 2009 01:32 am
kjpepper: (FAIL)
Dear 3M,

If you can make an adhesive that allows you to slap a hook on the wall, hold it there tightly enough to support a wool peacoat with twenty pounds of rocks in the pockets, and then remove it with nary a mark on the paint where it was, you should find the challenge of making a medical adhesive strong enough to do its job and yet not tear off three layers of skin when removed to be no problem.

Get cracking.



Seriously, I made the mistake of forgetting my elbow was gauzed and taped for most of today (the contrast media was put in through an IV), and pulling off the adhesive was not only torturously painful, but I have an angry red strip of skin on the inside of my elbow that looks like a first degree burn. It joins the rapidly growing collection of tape scars I have all over my front from the hospital and from the VCE last month. Both my boobs and several spots on my belly look like I picked up ringworm.

Just more battlescars, I suppose... still... annoyed...
kjpepper: (what is love (random))
So a general update:

Been on the new steroid for about a week now. I've noticed a few things have improved since:
  • my weight is going down again. Course this could just be because I've been kinda off my feed this week.
  • bathroom trips are no longer an adventure. And by adventure I mean... okay, that's veering into TMI territory.
  • my right ankle/foot hasn't been swollen in a few days now, and it no longer hurts like someone picked up a nerve in the top of my foot and is twisting it.
  • the lingering abdominal soreness is gone too.
So far so good. I'm cautiously optimistic. No word yet on when I start Humira, but I'm guessing Dr. Tassoni'll discuss that with me on Friday.

Work is still kinda insane, and probably will continue to be for a bit. I am actually kinda glad about this, as busy == $$$ and after last week's expense laden horrificness I could seriously use $$$.

Dear Muse,

9am when I have six things to finish on my desk is NOT the time to whack me with the insipiration bat.


That said, literally, when I sat down this morning, an entire world dropped into my head. No, really. It's messed up. It's like all the little nebulous side stories and fiction ideas that I've been dicking around with for the past six or so years suddenly have a unifying theme and a home. And weirdly enough... this may be the key to finding my way back here at the end of the year. Man, but I wish I could draw better than I do. Or at least faster.

And now, chicken pasta parmesan, part deux. YAY.
kjpepper: (iPepper)
Dear Trent,

Look, you know I love you and have coveted your slightly scary freaky ass since I saw you spinning in midair in those boots in the "Closer" video years ago, and still would nail you to a wall even though you now kinda look like a cross between Andrew Dice Clay and someones beleaguered soccer dad. I was one of the first people to cheer when you were all like "ALL RIGHT I'M DONE WITH MY CONTRACT, FUCK THE SYSTEM I'M RELEASING ALL FUTURE MUSIC ON DAS INTARBUTZ" Cause you know what? yay. Fuck Interscope.

However, I'm in the process of listening to Ghosts I–IV, and I am not impressed. Again, I heart you, and there has been many a time where I would gladly been in the same room as you so I could gleefully watch you masturbate. Having listened to several tracks of what sounds like you doing so directly into a synthesizer, I'm thinking you may be one of those people that needs a label, if only for quality control. I mean, seriously, out of the 36 tracks in Ghosts, maybe three or four are actually listenable.

I'm hoping The Slip is slightly better, as I really really liked Discipline when I heard it on the radio a couple months back. I'm a little worried by the indications that there will be more volumes of Ghosts... I suppose the copious production of aural wankery is your perogative, but I hold that some things are better seen and not heard.

Still love you,

kjpepper: (eww)
Dear Eddie Murphy,



July 2009



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