Mad Libs Monday

Got this from Barb, and sent it around (you can see hers at www.airynothing.com). Here are the results:

A typical day for Sarah Elizabeth Green Haggerty.

On a typical day I wake up, wash the pine sap from my Achilles tendon and put on my girdle. I say goodbye to Orville Redenbacher and I Greyhound bus to a Poughkeepsie where I am an Instructional Designer. I feel delicious about what I do, sure I’d rather be a Rectal Thermometer Tester in Vatican City, but this pays the bills and buys me lots of pet rocks that I can catapult.

My morning is pretty furtive. Aside from my 729 trips to the galley to coif my hair and my moist encounter with Barbara, it’s just the same every day.

I break for lunch and draw with Dave Herman over a fabulous plate of magic mushrooms. A quick jaunt to The House of Blues to Colonel Angus Diana, who’s a total reluctant pirate bride, and it’s back to the grind, until 3:07 p.m. when I jump in my puffy orange Vespa and head for home.

My evening is spent recycling and listening to Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch while doing yoga around the dressing room wishing I was Paige and drinking all sorts of Tang. Then it’s off to bed where I dream of monkeys and Jenni Sadique in support hose.

A typical day for John.

On a typical day I wake up, wash the gum from my nose and put on my underwear. I say goodbye to George Best and I bike to Nepal where I am a pubber. I feel bluish about what I do, sure I’d rather be a CEO in Brazil, but this pays the bills and buys me lots of sheep that I can kick.

My morning is pretty (adjective). Aside from my 7 trips to the powder room to shave and my pretty encounter Di, it’s just the same every day.

I break for lunch and draw with Dave over a smart plate of magic mushrooms. A quick jaunt to home to shake hands with Sarah, who’s a total Dracula, and it’s back to the grind, until 3:30 p.m. when I jump in my dark red bus and head for home.

My evening is spent sleeping and listening to Coldplay while playing soccer around the den wishing I was Sir Matt Busby and drinking all sorts of whiskey. Then it’s off to bed where I dream of bottles and Simon Mayo in a neck tie.

A typical day for Jessica Hays.

On a typical day I wake up, wash the cum from my ear and put on my pants. I say goodbye to Angelina Jolie and I fly to a Paris where I am a porn star. I feel crunchy about what I do, sure I’d rather be a mechanic in Lakeland, MN, but this pays the bills and buys me lots of boys that I can jump.

My morning is pretty yellow. Aside from my 6 trips to the outhouse to crap and my green encounter with Diana, it’s just the same every day.

I break for lunch and draw with Paris Hilton over a blue plate of magic mushrooms. A quick jaunt to Italy to kiss Diana, who’s a total pumpkin, and it’s back to the grind, until 3:00 p.m. when I jump in my burned orange bicycle and head for home.

My evening is spent sleeping and listening to 3 Doors Down while playing soccer around the can wishing I was myself and drinking all sorts of Pepsi. Then it’s off to bed where I dream of cats and Dallas-Doing Debbie in underwear.

A typical day for Dean.

On a typical day I wake up, wash the cum from my boob and put on my garter. I say goodbye to Gillian Anderson and I take an airplane to a Alaska where I am a Tech Lead. I feel lovely about what I do, sure I’d rather be a CIO in Minnesota, but this pays the bills and buys me lots of trains so that I can run.

My morning is pretty quick. Aside from my 69 trips to the kitchen to shower, and my slow encounter with Adam, it’s just the same every day.

I break for lunch and draw with Jill over a sweet plate of magic mushrooms. A quick jaunt to Boston to hug Joe, who’s a total vampire, and it’s back to the grind, until 2:00 p.m. when I jump in my weakly red car and head for home.

My evening is spent sleeping and listening to The Streets while playing polo around the bedroom wishing I was Chris and drinking all sorts of beer. Then it’s off to bed where I dream of boobs and John in a stocking.

A typical day for Dave.

On a typical day I wake up, wash the Mercohnium from my adenoid and put on my spat. I say goodbye to Aimee Fischer and I take the Hindenburg to a sewer where I am a anal-lyst. I feel lascivious about what I do, sure I’d rather be a Comptroller in Zululand, but this pays the bills and buys me lots of pocket gophers that I can reel.

My morning is pretty remorseless. Aside from my one trip to the shower to brush my teeth and my guilt-ridden encounter with Di, it’s just the same every day.

I break for lunch and draw with Paige Davis over a incendiary plate of magic mushrooms. A quick jaunt to Vietnam to cage fight with Di, who’s a total rape victim, and it’s back to the grind, until quittin’ time, when I jump in my deciduous periwinkle Beetle and head for home.

My evening is spent staring into space and listening to Foo Fighters while lynching in the cat box room wishing I was Hitler and drinking all sorts of root beer. Then it’s off to bed where I dream of severance packages and the psychoexgirlfriend.com guy in a pantaloons.

A typical day for Jenn.

On a typical day I wake up, wash the colostrum from my left knee and put on my sock. I say goodbye to Garfield and I foot to Hawaii where I am an RN. I feel silly about what I do, sure I’d rather be the Queen of All She Surveys in Ireland, but this pays the bills and buys me lots of cats that I can swim.

My morning is pretty orange. Aside from my 7 trips to the kitchen to think and my hot encounter with Di, it’s just the same every day.

I break for lunch and draw with Jeff over a weird plate of magic mushrooms. A quick jaunt to Canada to chat with Di, who’s a total gorilla, and it’s back to the grind, until high tea when I jump in my squishy platinum Beetle and head for home.

My evening is spent sleeping and listening to U2 while tickling around the closet wishing I was Greg Louganis and drinking all sorts of Coke. Then it’s off to bed where I dream of teeth and Ana in a hat.

A typical day for Diana.

On a typical day I wake up, wash the rubber cement from my big toe and put on my brassiere. I say goodbye to John Cusack and I take a burro to a Ireland where I am an account manager. I feel sticky about what I do, sure I’d rather be a stevedore in Pennsylvania, but this pays the bills and buys me lots of kitties that I can juggle.

My morning is pretty yellow. Aside from my 37 trips to the dining room to wax my upper lip, and my encouraging encounter with Sarah, it’s just the same every day.

I break for lunch and draw with the Wild Colonial Bhoys over a outstanding plate of magic mushrooms. A quick jaunt to IKEA to snuggle with Barb, who’s a total bum, and it’s back to the grind, until 3:30 p.m., when I jump in my crunchy blue train and head for home.

My evening is spent scraping the cat barf off my floor and listening to John Groban while walking around the bathroom wishing I was Queen Elizabeth I and drinking all sorts of Bailey’s. Then it’s off to bed where I dream of pubs and Megan Slankard in a shoe.

A typical day for Sara Camerer.

On a typical day I wake up, wash the boogers from my junga-jungas and put on my knickers. I say goodbye to Colin Firth and I jet to a Stonehenge where I am Whatever I Want to Be. I feel horny about what I do, sure I’d rather be a Chief of Hole Inspection in Ireland, but this pays the bills and buys me lots of puppies that I can skip.

My morning is pretty purple. Aside from my 13 trips to Room 12 brush my teeth and my bumpy encounter with Sarah Haggerty it’s just the same every day.

I break for lunch and draw with Dave Herman over a zippy plate of magic mushrooms. A quick jaunt to St. Paul to touch Diana Johnson, who’s a total pickle and it’s back to the grind, until 3:00 p.m. when I jump in my funny green Audi TT and head for home.

My evening is spent sleeping and listening to Sting while having sex in the playroom wishing I was Eleanor Roosevelt and drinking all sorts of Coke with Splenda. Then it’s off to bed where I dream of buggies and Barbie in a socks.

A typical day for Jenni.

On a typical day I wake up, wash the tree sap from my knees and put on my skirt. I say goodbye to Bruce Willis and I moped to a Texas where I am a nurse. I feel strange about what I do, sure I’d rather be a dog walker in Yemen, but this pays the bills and buys me lots of sticks that I can throw.

My morning is pretty intense. Aside from my 25 trips to the sunroom to sing and my loud encounter with Haley it’s just the same every day.I break for lunch and draw with Diana over a uplifting plate of magic mushrooms. A quick jaunt to Target to hug Sarah, who’s a total princess, and it’s back to the grind, until 3:32 p.m. when I jump in my wrinkly green rickshaw and head for home.

My evening is spent knitting and listening to Michael Jackson while drinking around bedroom wishing I was George W. Bush and drinking all sorts of tequila. Then it’s off to bed where I dream of cameras and Craig in a belt.

Check out these fun sites!

This week I have been reading ThinkYou're The Only One? Oddball Groups Where Outsiders Fit In. Here are a few of the organizations who need to be highlighted:

The Church of the Subgenius: Founded by "Bob" in 1953 who believed that a Conspiricy of Normal Humans was out to repress the abnormalities of the nice weirdos of the world. He founded the Church to protect them from the ravages of mainstream society. Motto: Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke.

The Church of Volkswagenism: Jason Gaudet, the High Priest of Volkswagenism, encourages others to experience the love of VW's and revel in driving them. They have their own scriptures and saints. Motto: Volkwagenism: Followers Wanted.

The Interntional Association of Drunk Bastards: Basically, they drink. It brings a tear to my wee Irish eye. Motto: Bibere ergo sum (I drink, therefore I am).

The International Jewish Conspiracy (InJewCon): Paranoid anti-Semites continue to claim that there exists an international Jewish conspiracy, so someone decided that the best way to mock this idea was to create a public web site to share all of the conspiracy's "secrets". Mottos: From the People Who Brough You Banking. Community, Industry, Deli. Call Your Mother.

Join Me! (Or, the Karma Army): The brianchild of Danny Wallace, who put an ad in a London newspaper that said "Join Me" but he had no idea what for. As a result, he has now formed a cult who perform random acts of kindness, particularly on Fridays (Good Friday). Motto: It's nice to be nice.

The Luxuriant Flowing Hair Club for Scientists (LFHCfS): When many people think of scientists, they think of a small balding man in a lab coat. The LFHCfS aims to remind the public that scientists come fabulously coiffed, too.

National Organization Taunting Safety and Fairness Everywhere (NOTSAFE): NOTSAFE believes that constant regulation errodes our freedom, and the best way to combat regulation is to ridicule it. Mottos: LIVELLAFOTOREHTSITNEMNREVOG. Protecting Everyone from Everything at Any Cost.

No Kidding! The International Social Club for Childless and Childfree Couples and Singles: I think that says it all.

The Paranormal and Ghost Society: Their mission is to seek truth, take photographs, and provide honest reports of paranormal activity.

Peep Researchers: A group which has done numerous scientific experiments on those little marshmallow birds, testing their responses to changes in pressure, temperature, and other external stimuli.

The Society for Basic Irreproductible Research: Mission: To perpetuate a resentment against hypocrisy, to encourage the abhorrence of self-aggrandizement, to deplore the arrogance of many peole, especially in government, to encourage people who call an outrageous exaggeration a lie, and to avoid circumlocution and all of it's aspects.

Dave: The Expansion Pack

So, the other day, Dave looked at my blog and was bummed that he wasn't mentioned in it. Frankly, since he wasn't part of a recent dating escapade, I hadn't thought to add him in. However, I did (see previous posting) and he replied with a bunch of other Dave/Di stories he thinks that the world should know. Here is a brief synopsis (details provided upon request):

• Dave was going out with the Crack Whore (and I use "going out" loosely), got stoned at her house one night, and couldn't find his way home. I get a call from "Somewhere on Highway 100" to come get him...but he had no idea where he was.
• Although I wanted him never to have the Crack Whore in my car, he did, and apprently she pleasured herself for him...in traffic.
• Dave once digitally anally raped Scabby. He claims it was an accident, but I'm pretty sure that he enjoyed it. As a result, Scabby's head is too small for his body.
• In college, Dave barfed in my bathroom, cleaned it up with my bath towel, and threw said towel in the tub for me to find. He still thinks that's the funniest fucking thing ever.
• There is a picture of my ass (etc) out there in the world. The less said about that, the better.
• Dave continues to bitch about the fact that I once drank all his Midori (and I didn't drink ALL of it, but I sure did drink it while I was working campus security....go ahead, MSU...take away my seven dollars an hour!), just to have a reason to bitch at me. (And this is backed up by an email of 6.9.05 yay!)
• Dave let me borrow the Lieberwagon to an interview in the Cities (during college). One had to short out the engine to make it go, and the Wagon had been having a bad day. My mom was so horrified when I showed up in the Wagon hat I never had to beg a ride again.

And, now you know.

"Too Much Christmas"

I'd like to take a moment now to mention my friend Dave, who did not make it into the old blog, and is now having a bit of a crisis because of it. He's a swell guy, even if he lives in Sioux Falls. He and his wife Jenn are expecting their first baby, and I am looking forward to having a little Hatt to corrupt.

Jebus DOES Answer Prayers!

Thank you, Jebus!

Got the message below from last night's date:

Thanks for joining me for dinner last night. The food was good as was the conversation. However to be honest, I felt more of a friend vibe than any real chemistry…so not sure what happens from here….?

Dear Jebus

Oy.

Just got back from another first date. For those of you that are just joining us, I have been out of the dating pool for a while, and am not back trying to find Mr. Right. Or at least Mr. Doesn't Make Me Vomit.

So, I found this one on The Onion Personals. I tend to likeThe Onion cause it has relatively nifty and liberal guys - for the most part you don't get supporters of the Moral Majority on that one.

This guy seemed pretty cool - divorced, couple of kids that live at a distance (sorry to be petty, but I kind of like it like that), employed. Talked over email for a couple days, and then he asked me out. We made arrangements to meet at the Roasted Pear in Burnsville, which I had never heard of.

Met him there tonight. The Roasted Pear is a restaurant that is trying to be unique, but has all the signs of something that is going to soon emerge into a chain. It has good, but not terribly interesting food, and the ambiance leaves a bit to be desired - bad, bad music and the decor isn't really pulled together. It looks kind of like a Bakers Square that's tried to class itself up.

Here are some of the evening's hightlights:

• We sit, and he orders wine. Zinfandel. Now, again call me petty, but I beleive that you can tell a lot about a person by their selection in alcohol. In my world, real men don't drink lite beer. They also don't drink Zinfandel. That's too wussy even for me.
• I am informed that I can order anything that I want...as long as it's not over four dollars. And then he chuckles at his own cleaverness.
• He uses the "quotation marks" with "everything" including "things" that don't need to "be". And it's "fucking annoying".
• Divorced (not that there's anything wrong with that), and not sure where he's "at" emotionally. Was "very depressed" this winter, and seems to have some good anger toward the X (again, not that there's anything wrong with that - I hate mine with an unholy passion most days - but it's not exactly date material).
• Christian. Very much so. Weekly church services and daily prayers. Again, ok...but not for me.
• Thinks that the Minneapolis smoking ban is ridiculous, and doesn't beleive that the government should interfere with private business (yes, do we smell a bit of Republican here)?
• When I ordered a salad, he wanted to know if I had something against meat. My salad actually included chicken and bacon (and again cemented my theory that Everything is Better with Bacon).
• Found out I had pets - wanted to know if I was a "Cat Lady."
• Disclosed that he doesn't have any money (who the hell does?), and that he bought a house he can't afford, has no cash and lots of credit, so if he wants something, he'll "just buy it" on credit, and gave me a rundown of all the useless things that he's bought in the last few days...all on plastic...

Now, he's not a bad person, just a total social moron, and lacking in any kind of idea of dating etiquette. He's SO not my lobster.

And, of course, he thinks I'm fabulous, and will be emailing me tomorrow. Today's Poll: How do you tell someone that you know, in your heart, is going to continue to ask you out with a determination that would made Lance Armstrong a pushover, that you would really prefer if he lost your number???

Wo-Hoo! A New Blog!

Greetings! Welcome to Red-Headed-Stepchild, my verbal meanderings on Life, the Universe, and Everything.

If you want to learn what I was up to before I changed over to Blog City, check me out at the Old Red-Headed-Stepchild.

This is what we need.

The Solution

Sharon Olds

Finally they got the Singles problem under control, they made it scientific. They opened huge Sex Centers-you could simply go and state what you want and they would find you someone who wanted that too. You would stand under a sign saying I Like to Be Touched and Held and when someone came and stood under the sign saying I Like to Touch and Hold they would send the two of you off together.

At first it went great. A steady stream of people under the sign I Like to Give Pain paired up with a steady stream of people from under I Like to Receive Pain. Foreplay Only-No Orgasm found its adherents, and Orgasm Only-No Foreplay matched up its believers. A loyal Berkeley, California, policeman stood under the sign Married Adults, Lights Out, Face to Face, Under a Sheet, because that's the only way it was legal in Berkeley-but he stood there a long time in his lonely blue law coat. And the man under I Like to Be Sung to While Bread Is Kneaded on My Stomach had been there weeks without a reply.

Things began to get strange. The Love Only-No Sex was doing fine; the Sex Only-No Love was doing well, pair after pair walking out together like wooden animals off a child's ark, but the line for 38D or Bigger was getting unruly, shouting insults at the line for 8 Inches or Longer, and odd isolated signs were springing up everywhere, Retired Schoolteacher and Parakeet-No Leather; One Rm/No Bath/View of Sausage Factory.

The din rose in the vast room. The line under I Want to Be Fucked Senseless was so long that portable toilets had to be added and a minister brought for deaths, births, and marriages on the line. Over under I Want to Fuck Senseless-no one, a pile of guns. A hollow roaring filled the enormous gym. More and more people began to move over to Want to Be Fucked Senseless. The line snaked around the gym, the stadium, the whole town, out into the fields. More and more people joined it, until Fucked Senseless stretched across the nation in a huge wide belt like the Milky Way, and since they had to name it they named it, they called it the American Way.

Grab some Kleenex...You're gonna laugh until you cry!

Check out Sarah's blog: Another dream-nugget from the archives of my imagination

Holy Birthday, Batman!

For those of you that are loyal followers of Moi, you will know that my 30th birthday was in April (you can see pictures of the party The Girls threw for me here - and thanks to Barb for being so darn web-savvy!). And you will know that I was kind of bummed/irritated/whatever that MY PARENTS did NOT get me a PRESENT!! WTF???

The Official Excuse was that I am too hard to buy for, and that I hadn't given them any ideas. Whatever! I am a treasure trove of ideas, I love everything, I drop hints all the time, and when the going gets rough, the Di loves diamonds. C'mon! I'm 30!! That deserves something besides balloons!!!!

The parents have TOTALLY redeemed themselves.

This weekend, I was informed that they are taking my sisters and I to LONDON and PARIS in August!!!

Yay!!!!!

Irritation...of the Swelling Kind

Argh.

Just got a call from the Nurse Practitioner at my Immunologist's office....they ran a bunch of labs last week, and once again, nothing is showing up.

We were looking for two main things: thyroid antibodies (not function, but to see if my body is building an intolerance for my thyroid), and that continues to be borderline at 2.0 (same as in September). Once it hits 2.1, they'll start to worry, but for now it's considered "normal".

My C1 esterace inhibitor function is better than it was in September: anything above 67% is normal, my functions were 92% in September, and are now at 97%. Can't get much better than that.

All my other counts were, in her words, "smack dab in the middle" of where they should be. All the complements, hemoglobin, white blood cells, lymphocytes, platelets...normal, normal, normal.

How annoying.

More fun stuff from Blogthings.com

You Are 50% Normal (Somewhat Normal)

While some of your behavior is quite normal... Other things you do are downright strange You've got a little of your freak going on But you mostly keep your weirdness to yourself

How Normal Are You?

By popular request...Di's Dating Sagas....

And so, I again find myself single. To make a long story short, Fabulous John of several posts ago was unable to rise to the occasion, if you catch my drift, and instead of dealing with it like a man, he decided to get rid of me, the "reminder" of his "failure". Whatever.

And, as a result, my new and improved ad is back up on the Onion Personals (you can check me out at 21_seeking_42).

I was telling Barb about one of the responses last night, and she said that I needed to start blogging my dating life, as these stories are just too funny to keep to myself. So, here we go....

I'd been back on The Onion for a couple of days, and got an email from AntiGWBush. Well, gosh, that sounded promising...I, myself, am Anti-GWBush. I clicked on the profile first (go ahead, do it...) and was a bit concerned - I mean, I hate GW, but there is a limit to how much I can bring that into every day conversation. Then, I read his email....below, in red, for your personal amusement:

I thought your profile sounded interesting so I thought I would contact you. I never know what people want to know about me, but I will do my best to write something somewhat interesting.

I am a person who has spent the last decade of my life waking up to the world around me. I graduated from high school without much clue of what I wanted to do with my life. I was very complacent and thought I could get by the way most people got by, that is working in the corporate world. After spending some time doing this however I realized how badly I was being exploited by the people in power along with everyone else that I worked with. I decided that I could no longer work for any company that operated as if profit came before people.

Five years after my high school graduation I decided that I needed to educate myself so that I could effectively challenge the powerful. I started going to college in 2001, and during the first few weeks of class the attacks of September 11th happened. I watched as many Americans suddenly began to blindly follow the Bush Administration into a war which I knew would kill far more civilians than terrorists.

I was an extremely shy person in the past, but when I was confronted with the prospect of living in a country which blindly went to war without a thought of the consequences that war would have on innocent people, I knew I had to speak out. It seemed at first as if I was the only person opposing the war in Afghanistan at first, but as I talked to more people I realized that there were many others who had similar feelings.

I was worried that the Bush Administration was more concerned about spreading American power, than they were about fighting terrorism. When they announced they were going to attack Iraq I felt I had to continue fighting against their plans, so I became more closely involved in the protest movement.

I am not trying to tell you my life story here, I just want to give you an idea of who I am and what is important to me. So let me just wrap up by saying that I just graduated from Hamline University last week, and am now looking to find a job which will either allow me to continue to advocate for causes which are important to me or allow me to serve underprivileged people.

One of the things that attracted me to your ad was that you said you wouldn't drive a car if you didn't have to. I rarely drive myself, and I am also a big supporter of mass transit. I may be forced to get a car soon, because I need to be able to get to work somehow but I almost feel guilty in doing so. I realize the destruction that our appetite for fossil fuels has on our environment, and there is nothing more important to me than our planet.

Anyways, I will let you respond if you want to know more about me. Feel free to ask me any questions. If you are interested in a picture I should be able to find one soon, I just don't have it posted online at this moment.

I guess what I am looking for is just someone who is honest about who they are, and someone who believes in working to make the world better. That doesn't necessarily mean that you have to be an activist, it just means that you recognize the impact that your life has on others and work towards living that life in the best way possible. I realize that my views are often quite radical, and I by no means expect that you will always agree with them. All that I expect is that you remain open minded and don't just blindly follow me or anyone else.

I am basically just looking for an egalitarian relationship, where we are both equals. My major in college was Sociology, so I understand gender roles and the paternalistic hierarchy that exists in this country. I am a man who is not ashamed to admit that I am a feminist, and I could not in good conscious enter a relationship in which I was expected to take charge over a woman's life. I want to be with a woman who is not ashamed that she is a woman, and does not look to men to guide her life. Some women say they want to be treated as a princess, the thing they don't realize is that far too often the prince grows to be far more powerful than the princess. I am looking for a woman who doesn't want to be treated as a princess, but rather wants to be treated as an equal. I believe that the only healthy human relationships are equal relationships, and if you agree then you should contact me.

First of all, holy fuck! That's a mouthful!

Second, my reasons for not wanting to own a car are primarily not ecological. I mean, I believe in Loving Your Mother and all that shit. But, the real reason is that it irritates me that I pay more for my transportation costs in a month than I do for my rent, and that's just bloody wrong. And, if we had better mass transit in this town, there would be less congestion on the freeways, and I'd be able to use it, and therefore have more reading time in a day. I heart mass transit.

Third, Jebus. I don't think it's a big secret that I'm a liberal, but this guy is too liberal even for me. I have this terrible vision of every conversation revolving against GW (since, even his favorite love scene in movie had a GW reference). Every activity would be some sort of Anti-GW demonstration. I'd have to sell my car so as not to be a sell out to Big Oil (not like I haven't already considered that). I'd probably have to give up my crafting, so as not to conform to the stereotypical roles of women in the home, and learn to be an equal member of a relationship (and, I'm sure that the fact I enjoy those activities is just proof of the brainwashing that I have been subjected to as a woman). And I'm pretty sure sex would be less about getting off than making some sort of political statement. (On the plus side, if he's so into equality, maybe I could have a decent orgasm...).

Maybe being single isn't so bad......