These are mine:
But wait, what is this...? I don't remember writing this one. What the...
MO-THER! Becca's been in my ROOM AGAIN!!!!
Sigh. Like I said, some things never change.
So many questions. Not a single answer.
These are mine:
But wait, what is this...? I don't remember writing this one. What the...
MO-THER! Becca's been in my ROOM AGAIN!!!!
Sigh. Like I said, some things never change.
Black Ice? Really, this is the name they came up with? Mmmm...smells like crisp winter mornings, the first snow of the season and ohmygodlookout!!!!!!!!And now...the moment I assume everyone has been waiting for, knuckles white, on pins and needles, edges of your seats, etc...The distribution of prizes! Or, well, prize. Exclamation point!
So, in all there were 23 comments, disregarding the fact that, well, quite a few of them were from me. And so I plugged those numbers into a random number generator, hit go, and voilà! Lucky number 16!
Wait, here we are! And the lucky winner is...Talia!!!!!!
And ironically enough, the very comment where she mentions coveting the recipe holder. Which is why, though Talia is my best friend and all, I swear this wasn't rigged. Besides, I had already left a comment wherein I stated my support for Alan to win. Sorry, Alan! Maybe next time. Now, Talia, you're going to have to leave a comment that's the equivalent of a Price is Right contestant getting called on down, with the screaming and flailing arms, or everyone's going to be very disappointed.
Happy weekend everyone, and thanks for playing our game!
Oh nos! Hold Noodle's ears back, I think I'z gonna be sick!
I thought he was being a bit overdramatic, so I told him to read the information on the back of the bag.
Ne contient pas de vin? What the floof does that mean? Noodle don't speak no stinkin' French. Noodle took German in high school, the language of his illustrious ancestors.
Oh, sorry Noodle. Wrong one. Here.
What? No wine? No wine in Wine Gums??? Next thing Noodle knows you'z be telling him there's no gin in Gin Gerbread cookies. And beer nuts? Tell Noodle 'bout beer nuts!!!!
Noodle sez, tis travesty what is the false advertising that is allowed to pass in the world today. You all be hearing from Noodle's lawyers.
Now go get Noodle a bowl of rum raisin ice cream. I'z need to chill.
I don't know who this girl is or where she came from, but I do know I want her to make more videos. A lot more videos.
Thanks again to Tom for passing this along.
Well, Internet, I must really like you, because I have cast aside pesky annoyances like school work and a personal life in order to bring you a new and piping hot version of everyone's favorite and (only slightly irreverent) internet search query advice column. And so, without further ado, I present to you the second edition of Just, Unequivocal, Sincere and True Answers to Life's Important Questions, aka, JUSTALIQ. Read, learn, and feel reassured that there are people out there who are even more confused than you are.
Q: Why do girl sometime lie to a guy and say i se you as a friend? (sic)
A: There are many reasons why a girl may tell you that she sees you as a friend. The first one that comes to mind being, you're her friend. But you said that she lied when she said she thought of you as her friend, which to me indicates that you are not her friend. Now why would a girl tell you that she sees you as her friend when she does not in fact see you as her friend? Would you excuse me while I lie down for a minute? My head is whirling.
Ok, I'm back. Now I think I understand what you're getting at here. You think she sees you as more than a friend, am I right? You think that in fact she pines after you, doodling your name in marbled composition books, lingering after class hoping to catch a glimpse of you in the hallway, pretending to drop her pen just to catch a whiff of your sleeve on the way down to get it, or at least, since you've never actually received any information to confirm it, that's what you very sincerely hope. So why, then, would she tell you that she just wants to be friends with you, when you have such ardent dreams of kissing with tongues, and maybe, after a few months or maybe a year, some incidental boob contact? Well, as you may have guessed, the only logical answer is she's playing hard to get. You're going to have to try harder. Leave notes in her locker, every day, and if that doesn't work, every hour. Walk slowly back and forth on the street in front of her house, waiting to see if you can catch a glimpse of her. Sneak into her bedroom while she's out and write I love you in lipstick on her mirror. Trust me, girls love this stuff. When she threatens to call the police, that is a test. Don't fall for it. Do you think she dates guys who give up that easily? Do you think she likes quitters? Restraining orders cannot break the bonds of true love, my friend. Follow these simple tips, and with any luck, no girl will ever dare call you her friend again.
A: While some people call this The Universe, Needing Amusement, Has A Hilarious And Fairly Ironic Sense of Humor phenomenon (otherwise known as the TUNA(HAHA)FISH phenomenon), it is in fact a result of simple psychology. For instance, have you ever witnessed someone eating French fries, and then been struck with a sudden, uncontrollable urge to gorge on the salty, greasy, piping hot and perfectly crisped goodness yourself? Well, now imagine that you're the fries. Seeing that you're a hot and tasty commodity, admirers will come out of the woodwork with a sudden desire to gorge themselves on you. Mmmm, I want some of that, they may be thinking with a gleam in their eye and saliva on their chin. So, as long as you are dating someone, you will appear to others as dateable, and thus desirable. Conversely, if you are single, you are the equivalent of day-old bagels in the bargain bin. Eww, why would I want that? savvy shoppers and potential dates will think. No one else wanted them and neither do I. This is also known as the single and screwed phenomenon. The best way to score hot dates is thus to make sure you keep up your market value. Being in a healthy, happy, long-term relationship is hands-down the best way to attract attention from the opposite sex. Unfortunately, the rigours of a loving, mutally satisfactory long-term relationship generally tend to preclude the possibility of dating around, which is sort of a catch 22, I understand. So ultimately your choices are either A) the old ball and chain routine, aka emotional, physical, and spiritual closeness with another human being, a guaranteed date on weekends and major holidays, cutesy e-mails and "just because" gifts, help doing the dishes, taking out the trash, and finding your keys, and if you're lucky- your laundry appearing magically fluffed, perfectly folded and smelling of spring rain, backrubs, footrubs, chicken soup when you're sick, your own personal heater on cold winter nights, secret smiles, fingers through your hair, nails lightly scratching absent-mindedly up and down your back, and not to mention healthy doses of regular sex, or B) single and screwed. Choose wisely.
A: First, look deep within yourself and ask yourself this question: "What do I have that she wants?" Well, you might say, she obviously misses my intelligence, my warmth, my natural charm and charisma. In which case I say, no, dear, that is not at all what I am talking about. I mean, literally, what do you have that she wants? Take a look around. Is your apartment still littered with her clothing, books, Mr. Whiskers the cat, etc? In that case, promptly return her belongings, and you should notice a significant and immediate reduction in attempts at contact.
Ok. So she's still calling you? Let's re-evaluate. Check again. Perhaps there is something you have over-looked. Are you perhaps still the guardian of some of her more valued possessions? Her iPod, Tiffany bracelet, 2008 Passat? In this case the reason she's calling is most likely to tell you that if you don't hand them over like, now, she's calling the police. You would be wise to comply with her demands.
So, problem solved, eh? Unless of course she's still calling you, in which case there are only two possible explanations: A) she's a crazy psycho bitch who will break into your apartment with a knife and a gallon of pig's blood while you are out, in which case you may want to check behind the curtains before you go to sleep, you know what I mean? or B) you really are just that charming, that irresistible, and that hard to get over, you handsome devil you! If this is the case, then you're really in a pickle. Trying to stave off the crazed advances of a lovelorn ex-girlfriend is like trying to wrestle a dog away from a bone. So, what do I do? you may ask. Well, I'll tell you. You find her a bigger bone. The only way you can make a clean break is if she finds someone more charming, more handsome and more irresistible than yourself. I know, I know, I know...Sorry, what was I thinking? For now let's just say at least AS charming, irresistible and handsome, and that will have to do. Good places to look are the gym, office buildings, or Wall Street. Or, even better, a gym in an office building on Wall Street. Once you've targeted your victim, er, let's just call him the New Boyfriend Substitute, all you have to do is set up an introduction and walk away, patting yourself on the back for another successfully executed and mess-free break-up. And while you're home alone, pursuing your carefree bachelor lifestyle, watching the game on t.v. and belching, you can be secure in the knowledge that your ex has now completely forgotten about you, and is eagerly feasting upon her new, really big bone.
That's it for today, folks! If you have a question you would like answered in a future edition of JUSTALIQ, please submit it to www.google.com, and click on Diary of Why. Call now; operators are standing by.
No matter how I positioned him, he was always there, watching, following Noodle with his eyes.

This is what happens when you have nothing to blog about and every single animal protection league, society, and association in the continental U.S. won't stop sending cloyingly adorable and guilt-inducing gifts.
Please, PETA, ASPCA, and animal rescue leagues of the world; this has to stop. The notecards, the return address labels, the wrapping paper, the desk calendar, the dog tags, the calculator, the umbrella; they are all so lovely and thoughtful and squishily adorable, but the problem is, I don't have a dog to put tags on, I don't write that many letters, and honestly, I'm not totally convinced that that umbrella is even waterproof. You see, several years ago I had a full-time job and a salary and made a couple modest donations to what I assumed was a local animal rescue league, but in fact turns out to be located in
New York state. (Duped!) However, I am now what we callAnyway, Animal People Whose Mailing Lists I Am On, I would just like you to know that I can't be guilted anymore. As I don't have any money at the moment (or most likely throughout the forseeable future), I am unable to contribute to your very worthy cause. But please, for the love of kittens, please stop sending me your crap. Because the days are long, the blogging is slow, and I still have piles of cards crying out for a felt-tipped pen and an irreverant hand. Please, APWMLIAO, don't make me do it.
Sincerely,