mother of pearl

Dirty Rotten Soundrels
April 12, 2010, 6:32 pm
Filed under: .movies.

Still holds up after 22 years.

March 27, 2010, 7:05 pm
Filed under: .stuff. | Tags: , , , , ,

When people tell you that bees will leave you alone if you just stand still and don’t run around, listen to them. Please. And if you don’t, make sure you are wearing long sleeves and protecting your armpit. If you don’t, it can get ugly.

That asshole got his.

Needless to say, my pit is sore, red, and swollen.

Stupid bee, may he rest in peace.

My Tooth and Me!
March 17, 2010, 3:48 pm
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Teeth have been a bane to my existence.  They help me eat – an activity I so very much love – I’ll give them that. I won’t forgive them, however, for causing me problems and stress.

I’m trying to turn over a new leaf with my recently-released-from-the-prison-that-is-my-mouth wisdom tooth.

So in the same vein as My Buddy and Me

… we’ve got My Tooth and Me. I’ll just start taking pictures of us, frolicking about: at the store, at the park, going for a run, riding a bike. Since I’m still suffering from the pain, today we are just kicking back and watching tv.

March 13, 2010, 7:41 pm
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My eyelid has been twitching for about an hour or two. It kinda freaks me out. I’ve done some research and found the top causes of eye twitching:

  • Stress
  • Tiredness
  • Eyestrain
  • Caffeine
  • Alcohol
  • Dry eyes
  • Nutritional imbalances
  • Allergies

Makes sense. I got up at 6 today, have been staring at the ‘puter for quite some time now, drank about 4 cups of coffee, on my 2nd glass of wine (I like the booze), have generally dry eyes from having such an intense stare, and often eat like crap (i.e. Taco Bell).

Guess it’s something I’ll have to live with for a bit.  It’s better than this.

His giant eyes don't detract from his ugly face

March 13, 2010, 6:49 pm
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I’ve found a new website.

I have to ransack my dad’s place tomorrow for items worth selling or keeping, since he is being asked ever-so-kindly-via-notice to leave the place he is living, which he seemed to acquire through questionable means (if you’ve heard me talk about my dad, you’ll completely understand).  He says he has some paintings by Margaret Keane, the woman who paints gigantic eyes.  I find them kinda creepy, but they might fetch a pretty penny for some “art” collectors.

creepy eyes are watching you

Hence, the search for bad art. This website has some gems. Amazing pieces by so called artists.  I think my cat, or a retarded child without arms, could produce better art.

At least I don’t think I will ever be on this site… unless I already am.

March 10, 2010, 7:49 pm
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Corey Haim died. I am happy it wasn’t the good Corey.

I smell children…
March 9, 2010, 8:19 pm
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I hate children.

For those of you who know me, that was an accurate statement for many, many years.  Before you tell me, “You hateful woman, I hope your cat smothers you to death in your sleep,” let me explain the circumstances for that statement.

I was the youngest child. I never babysat. I never hung around playgrounds or parks. I never had friends that had children. I never liked the looks of children, with their little faces and their dirty hands.  I could never tell the difference between a child’s laugh and a child’s cry. I could never tell the difference between a child’s cry and a bulldozer.  When I was 14 I was attacked by the likes of a creepy little blonde girl – aged 4– who covered my nose and mouth with her tiny little hands (which make quite a tight seal). A panic attack and sweating fits ensued.  No one helped me. I never knew you weren’t supposed to feed children pebbles.

I’m happy to say that, after 26 years, I have transcended the thoughts of my youth. I no longer am in fear of the midget-like humans that run around, enjoying dirt and drawing and running and playing and Dinosaur Train. I relish in the fact that, with a child around, I can act like one (minus the urinating on myself… as of yesterday).

Four days ago I made an awesome diorama–fort–3D–castle–map type thing with a child. I had a blast.

I am Allison Mason, and I no longer hate children.