agent orange color blindness as we works from door to door

What do you get when you combine a weird and unexpected snowstorm on a Sunday morning, a Metrobus that lost control on Connecticut Avenue, three classic Hollywood musicals, delivery lasagna and the Academy Awards?

Not a whole lot, actually.

Combine the above with nine balls of Karabella Margrite and the new book Lace Style?8.5 inches of stockinette goodness, and the end of the first ball.

(Color is kinda close, although actual color looks a little less of a blood orange. And yes, I appreciate the irony of a sweater that has endless amounts of stockinette stitch on a size 6 needle while still appearing in the book Lace Style.)

in the winter time the roses died the blood ran cold

Dear Aunt Flo:

You've been here for more than seven weeks. There's nothing left. Please, go the fuck home already.

Thank you.

The Management

a kiss may be grand but it won't pay the rental on your humble flat or help you at the automat

Okay, y'all, I went to Wasabi for sushi and not only was the sushi really good but it's almost an automat. A sushi automat. I love an automat. I think the automat should come back. I love sushi. It's a melding of two perfect things, like The Rock and "Bring It On" in the movie "Be Cool."

Karida said, "well on the plus side, the former boss that is now merged and all super-conglomo is at least a place the feds will have heard of, let's call them "smell south." it's not like you're telling them that you used to work for some crazy out of business ice cream shop."

Yeah, I might have had a better time with the crazy out of business ice cream shop than with SmellSouth.

Umm. I feel like I should tie these two disparate thoughts together. The thing is, I hate feeling like I have to blog, but I've been busy and stuff and have lost the interwebs and all and stuff and like people pressured me to blog. So here's a pictures of stuff. I went to Libby's yesterday.
Libby knitting Tubey on her couch
Matt's leg and the tail of a cat
Cat and Ott
A closeup of the scarf I'm making The Man Who Lives in the House out of Karabella Iris
The Man Who Lives in the House for the naysayers who don't know or believe I'm married.
He doesn't always dress like a pirate.

i stretched back and i hiccuped and looked back on my busy day eleven hours in the tin pan god there's got to be a better way

Imagine, for a moment.

You are the former employee of a Fortune 50 company. Your employment ended six years ago.

Happily working at a new job, minding your own business, you suddenly find yourself in need of a US Government security clearance. Said clearance requires street addresses and phone numbers and contact names of all former places of employment, including verification address, job location, and supervisor name and address.

The actual location of your Fortune 50 job is no more. What do you put? What do you put for phone number? A non-existent number?

Your supervisor dropped off the face of the planet. You heard he might have moved to Montana to become a rancher. This story is anecdotal.

And as it happens, your former Fortune 50 company just merged with another huge company (Fortune 10? 20? Let's just say, the monopoly that was broken up in the 1980s seems to be back again). As in, a month ago. And closed the HR department. And the HR department for the monopoly doesn't have former other company employee information for verification purposes. And the outsourced company that handles the automated system for employment verification only has employee information back five years. And you end up calling the Office of the Executive Assistant to the President of the Monopoly asking for information and even she, although incredibly nice, had no information.

And if you don't fill out this information, you lose your job.

What would you do?

great expectations everybody's watching you people you meet they all seem to know you

Hey. You.

Go check out Libby's new blog. If you don't know who Libby is, check out this.

i might just throw up cause it sure does feel shitty when things just get pretty fucked up

The Supersuckers for you, Jess.

Is it weird that everyone has a Wikipedia entry nowadays? Vitriola told me yesterday that this guy I once fucked has a Wikipedia entry and he just may be the most famous person either of us fucked. We wanted to edit his entry to talk about how bad in bed he was. But then I'd have to admit that I fucked the guy, which, really, I don't want to do, hence my not linking to him, and V, you better not either. But can I just put up an entry for myself or someone random like Jess or Karida and have it stay there? Aren't there like, basic rules for Wikipediaworthiness?

Anyhoo. I've been sick and workaholic me, I STAYED HOME FROM WORK. For TWO WHOLE DAYS.

And the stolen wireless network keeps going down so when I'm able, I can put up pictures of stuff.

edited to add:
Vitriola commented about said Wikifuckee:

Just imagine someone on like a semi-pro golf tour, but much, much geekier.

That pretty much sums it up. Only as geeky as you're thinking? Think even geekier. Oh, and Jess? Remind me to tell you about him, something that only you can appreciate to its fullest.