Survey things

Gacked from kshandra, simply 'cause I wanna.

( survey says: *ding!* )

I'm also Puck believe it or not: ( Read more... )

Lord, what fools these mortals be. :P

ooog.

I'm friggin Tired.

I'm going to get yelled at here by both The Russian and The Boy, but I didn't actually wind up going to bed until after 6am. I ended up eating pizza and processing some important shit with beatgoddess about what's been going on and/or down for the past nine months. I think we made some progress towards a more workable living sitch for all of us while still maintaining ties and waiting for the trifling quaker lesbionic minister to worm her way out from under her german girlfriend's shoe and figure out when the hell she's moving out. Rar.

We also discovered that "Dead Mom Trumps All" has the same scantion (sp?) as "Dead Stars Still Burn." Yep. There is TGV handbasket happening oh so very soon, I think, but in the meantime it will make me smile when I'm on the bus destroying my ears with goth industrial. I'll need something to make me smile on the way down to NY.

Anyway, looks like the plan falls out thus: I'm getting on a 12:10 bus outta Northampton and arriving in NY at 4:30. Depending on what the Clan manages to get done today as far as arranging things go (Why, why, why are these things always called "arrangements?" Why not "plans?" or "Here's where and when X, Y, and Z are happening?" or "Dude, where's my funeral?") jaicat, I'm probably spending tonight at the house, but I'll keep you posted on teh crazy as it unfolds. Actually, I'll keep everyone posted as it goes - you know my need to write shit down.

Meantime - those of you that have my cell #, do call and check up on me while I'm gone, and if you don't (and the only reason I'm not posting it is because ha ha I only have like 450 day minutes) please text message the hell out of my ass cause that's where I'm keeping my phone all week. If you have my number, you can also email me at (number)@mobile.mycingular.com. Just keep it reeeeeeeeeally short, kthx. :)

kisses for sunny, who has lent me her sun necklace to wear since the ring is still AWOL. And for beat, for lending me yummy helpful rocks.

Anyway, I should probably grab a duffel and start shoving clothes 'n' stuff into it. Come to think of it, I could just borrow one of sunny's suitcases, if I remembered where the hell they were...oh hell, I gotta stop by the office, left the cellphone charger there. OK. Time to get going apparently.

*humming dead stars*

In NY

I got here, safe and sound.

( soooooooooooo.... depressing stuff. )

In other news, three extremely fucked UP things experienced on the journey here:

This month's Awake! magazine, as offered by the typical creepy old lady at the Springfield Terminal.. Apparently the best way to counteract obesity is to find Jehovah. *FACESMACK*

Really really really really REALLY bad names for a porn video store: "The Romantic Outlet." I shit you not, take the NYState Throughway to NJ sometime and look out the driver's side window. jeeee-zus.

Oh and speaking of Jesus, third thing - someone's playing my mom's Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir CDS on loop downstairs (from which I'm quite summarily hiding my pagan ass upstairs) Ye gods, I never want to here Jesus scat ever again... and yet I have this perverse urge to rip it and subject the unsuspecting to both it and that horrible "A Winter's Rose" song sundart downloaded back to back, with a side dish of Wesley Willis. I think lesser mortals have imploded from less.

Jesus scat. O.M.F.G.

More later. I need something foodlike now.