English is truly a hilarious language sometimes.

And now for something completely different - the word "pulchritudinous."

This is a fifteen letter study in irony. I mean, it's supposed to mean beautiful, but the first thing that comes to my mind upon seeing or hearing this word is a particular nasty outward symptom of some flesh eating disease, or even better, necrotizing fasciitis. Likewise, "puce." You'd expect a color with a name that close to "puke" to be a nasty shade of green or yellow used in most 70s decor. You know, the color formerly known as "chartreuse." Which is far more glamorous sounding than "puce," which is actually a rather nice purple-y color somewhat similar, if not as saturated, as the color scheme in my livejournal and my web site. Actually when you really think about it, the word "purple" is a bit gross sounding too...

That's it. The new world order according to me shall see a restriction of words beginning with "pu-" to the gross things they imply.

And more seriously giggleworthy scheisse

This snippet of conversation gleefully stolen (and slightly edited) from this entry of morlock's journal (read it all, it's fucking hilarious, especially if you're a g33k):

- Ya know, it'd be kinda cool to taste with your hands like flies...
- ....
- You can just stick your hand on someones food, and you can taste it.
- Have fun, guess you'll have to give up masterbation.
- Oh fuck, never mind.

Well, off I go

To NYC. And then to Short Hills. *shudder* But you know, it'll be fine. The trip's long overdue, and the dose of chakabuku I received this morning is kinda helping me steel my resolve to set the wrong things right and figure out what the fuck I'm around for.

I remember this feeling of sheer determination. Let's all pray it doesn't desert me again.

and as for the rest... ya know, much as I dislike Toby Keith's general being, he does write a good song every so often when he's not singing "kill the ragheads" or selling out to TGI Fridays. The lyric currently stuck in my head kinda sums up my state of mind:

go west, young man - haven't you been told
california's full of whiskey, women and gold?
sleeping out all night beneath the texas stars
with a dream in my eye and a prayer in my heart...

Not exactly what I want to be doing with my life exactly, though I'm sure the stars in Texas are gorgeous (innostrantsa? thoughts?) but the sentiment is about the same.

I've gotta catch a bus now. Will post more when I get back - iffen I do survive. :)