There Is A Porcupine Living In My Head

Notes from last night and despite what I said, the typos have been removed for the good of humanity:

12:10AM: Damn, these margaritas are good. And a little on the potent side. I wonder how long it's going to take to get a buzz from these suckers!

12:20AM: Oh yeah. There it is! That was fast! Tequila is the devil's drink. The devil and I have so much in common. I don't have horns though. I'm not touching that...

1:00AM: What the eff are "tenichlatilies" Danny? I'm thinking someone's even more buzzed than I am. Long Island Iced Teas, jeeze. That dude is going to hit the deck hard, later. Victory is so mine.

1:19AM: My toes are feeling odd. Like they're not really part of the rest of me. Sort of like Monaco and France. My toes are a principality, yo! I can still type though so far. I've only corrected 300 typos so far...

2:05AM: I can still spell "thalidomide" with a buzz on. Anyone would think I'd typed that 500 times this week already or something. Haha no one will ever know how funny that is.

3:00AM: Haha, this conversation is about fourteen different kinds of inappropriate right now. I'm not sure there's anyone left to offend on Earth. It's also a new record I believe. Normally ten is my limit.

3:33AM: Yeah. There is no way this transcript is going public. Like, EVER. Can the FBI monitor these things? Should I move?

3:46AM: Note to self: Your pants are inside out.

4:02AM: Other note to self: Do not close eyes at any point. Think riding on a moving freight train. Also? Do not admit this to the enemy.

4:04AM: Like the enemy is at all coherent.

4:59AM: Holy freaking shit. We are not right. Current topics of conversation: drugs, pick up trucks, oil fields and something totally unprintable about George Bush and Saddam Hussein's forbidden love.

5:12AM: I wouldn't bet money on it but I have a feeling my tongue is too big for my mouth.

5:25AM: I am about 300% certain there is a foreign hostile takeover going on inside my head that will come to a point during most of tomorrow.

6:06AM: Drinking water now. I think I'm getting away with it...

6:38AM: What's that huge light outside my window. Turn that thing off! Oh....it's the sun. Fuck!

7:00AM: I already have a hangover and I haven't gone to bed yet. This is alarming.

7:29AM: Hahaha Dan is like...seventeen sheets to the wind right now. It looks like a Tasmanian Devil on crack has taken over his keyboard. I'll spare you the details. Plus he's typing what looks like a load of left over Scrabble letters. Looks like a town in Hungary.

7:34AM: The quiz to decide the winner's going to have to wait until I can think a coherent thought again. Plus I'm not sure Dan knows where he is right now.

7:40AM: Yeah, bed time. I may already be asleep. I know my toes are. And I know my dignity died about 3 hours ago.

The T-Shirt Tag

My good bud Suze made me…I mean…asked me if I’d be so kind as to do this t-shirt meme thingy. The idea is to pick five t-shirts you own and write something about each, or something to that effect. I don’t do well with instructions, I just see “blah blah blah” and dive right in. Anyway, my response was, "ONLY FIVE?" because really, all my t-shirts are splendid and tell a story and I could go on for probably three weeks!

OK, I’m suddenly seeing the point of choosing five now.

I believe I’m supposed to tag some people to do similar, so I tag, you and you and oh yeah…you! Have at it. Seriously, all of you go do it, I want to see what crap you all have in your wardrobes then we’ll see who gets to be all high and mighty.

So here, with no further ado – The Guv’ner’s T-shirts

1. Bobz Bunz – Best Bunz in Town
   
   
   
   I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, "Guv, I honestly am having a hard time seeing a cultured, educated, classy, upper class toff like yourself wearing something featuring such a crass slogan!" And you would be at least partially correct, my friends. I have never actually worn "Best Bunz In Town" in public. Not because I wouldn’t wear such a fine piece of high-class garb, so much as the fact the shirt is almost the exact same color as my skin, therefore wearing it in a public place might cause cars to crash into rivers or something, when drivers with short attention spans think I’m walking around topless sporting a tacky tattoo on my chest. It was an oversight on my part when I bought it.
   
   In my defense, Bobz Bunz is from the fabulous Islamorada diner in the Florida Keys and I did fall heavily and truly in love with Bobz Bunz on my visit. His buns were huge, sticky and brimming with cream cheese, so given those filthy odds I defy you not to have bought his t-shirt. Plus, it reminds me of long hours of sunshine, ocean, palm trees, liquor and getting my ass evacuated by a hurricane the very day after I arrived. Thanks Rita, you punkass bitch. And the moral of this tee? Never go on vacation with The Guv’ner. She will get you either, a) arrested, b) killed, c) evacuated, or d) chased by an alligator. Of course if you like adventure, hell, gimme a call!



2. Small Stars
   
   
   
   Austin’s Small Stars are one of my favourite bands, maybe my favourite. I know, I know, you’ve never heard of them. No one has. But what’s the point in having a favourite band that everyone knows? Hmmm? Then I couldn’t pull an "I am better than you plebs in my hipster superiority!" type of defense. I wouldn’t be a quarter as awesome as you all know I am, if I liked Bryan Adams or something, right?
   
   Naturally, you should go check The Small Stars out immediately anyway because they rock to an almost epic proportion of fantasticness. Their song "Bombarderos Y Pistoleros" especially, makes my entire world rock out with its cock out. That song just lights my fire. And believe me. You will be lying there one night, just about to drop over that line into a deep, relaxing slumber when boom, the intro to "Bombarderos" will start pounding in your brain until sleep is futile and you have to get your ass out of bed and dance around the house in your underwear, playing your imaginary washboard. Yes, I said washboard. Do you wish to say something?
   
   Sure, they’re a real band made up of fake characters but they write a mean, catchy song and so my friends, this is why I have the t-shirt. It’s a fairly small babydoll shirt so I can’t eat for about a week before I wear it or it gets a little tight and things get a touch obscene in the breastular region. Let’s just leave it at that...



3. Mello Yello
   
   
   
   Mello Yello is the coolest soda on Earth. Except Barr’s Irn Bru. But that’s in a league of its own. Mello Yello is the best American soda on Earth, how about that? Not only does it boast a cunning use of pineapple, but it’s harder to find in NYC than a straight waiter. In fact, one of the Subway Sandwiches franchises, right here in downtown, by the World Trade Center is the only place in Manhattan I know who offers its wondrous fizzy nectar for sale. Before I discovered this, I used to actually head to Chuck E. Cheese in Brooklyn to find heaven. Now tell me that’s dedication! Or desperation. Whatever, who asked you? Oh wait, I did. Anyway, yeah, it’s basically a trade off. One cup of Mello Yello cost 99 cents and about two thirds of your sanity because you have to drink it surrounded by 80 shrieking six year olds. On the way out they give you a free gallon of the stuff and a medal for perseverance. At least on the days you’re not handcuffed and on your way to the slammer…
   
   The shirt’s awesome but virtually unwearable. I mean look at the colour. I’m crazy but I’m not howling at the Moon, crazy! I’m a reddish haired pale chick, if I wore that shirt in public I’d get arrested for crimes against fashion. All it needs to complete the felony is some royal blue pants with suspenders and some big, red clown shoes. It's actually a junior's t-shirt but I'm not proud. Because, it’s Mello Yello people. I sleep in it, because it’s awesome. The shirt I mean, not the soda. That would be pervy.



4. Homosassa Springs
   
   
   
   I got this t-shirt in Florida from the Wildlife Preservation park there of the same name. It’s a man’s t-shirt actually and way too large, so it’s pretty much sleep material. I have worn it on the odd occasion with some leggings to run a swift errand in the neighbourhood, when I’m 100% positive I won’t run into someone I know. In fact, the last time I wore it was on a warm summer’s day last year which just happened to be the same day as the Gay Pride parade which runs through my neighbourhood. I went out, ran an errand, bought a drink and sat down in the park near my apartment to enjoy the weather. The park was full of me on my own and 100 people draped in rainbow flags who’d been enjoying the parade. It wasn’t till I got up to leave and glimpsed my reflection in a store window, I realized my messenger bag strap cut across the logo, splitting it in two, so it looked like I was wearing a shirt that said "Homos" and "ass". Nice. Hey never say I’m not topical.



5. Let’s Play Global Thermonuclear War
   
   
   
   C’mon people, this shirt is the bees knees. Am I wrong? Who doesn’t fill their pants at that line in "War Games" when Matthew Broderick realizes the computer isn’t playing a game? Plus it’s a real geeky t-shirt and I’m a real geek. Nerd. Dork. I know, you’re thinking "Really Guv? You hide it so well! We’d never have realized if you’d just kept your trap shut!"
   
   Like the Small Stars shirt it is very fitted so it might as well say "HERE ARE MY BOOBS!" OK it’s not that bad. It’s short though. You have to be careful when you reach for stuff unless you want the world sticking things in your belly button. And really, who wants that? I mean I usually charge for that service.

Your turn!

Homicide Haiku

Guv'ner is pissed off

Damn loud neighbour must die now

Butcher knife in heart

The Excellent Files

OK I promise this is the last X-Files post for a while and it's brief. Mulder's been dispatched to the desert to find a downed alien spacecraft. This is the trailer.

"Hey Scully! Can you hear me? Can you hear me now?"



"What's that? No, I'm not wearing eye shadow Scully. I just haven't slept in three days. I'm in the desert. Yeah, the desert. I've had reports of a downed alien spacecraft. I brought my pointy alien killing thingy just incase! What's that again? No, it's the weirdest thing. I have 30 points of articulation and I still can't get this damn cell phone all the way to my ear. I'm not yelling!"



"Sh*t Scully, I think I found it. It's...it's amazing. No sign of life though. What should I do? I know! I'll recite a really long paragraph full of impressive jargon and intellectual phrases in a serious monotone, then I'll approach it cautiously! I got my piece out. OH...and my gun!"



"Scully! I know I hung up five minutes ago, but I need to talk to someone. Hey, there's weird alien hieroglyphics on the side. It....It says....I.K.E.A."

"HOLY SHIT!!! What the f*ck!? Where'd the sun go? The craft is glowing!"

"Goddamn it Scully. The sun's back and there's an alien in front of me. He's already dead. I never even got to use my pointy alien killing thing! I never get to have any fun."




To never be continued....

What? Do you think I have all day for this crap?

The Sex Files

In this episode of "the Guv'ner has too much time on her hands", I bring you - The Sex Files. I actually posted this at Live Journal before, but I thought you all might like it. Don't say I never show you nothin'.

I've managed to get hold of the secret, never seen before episode of "The X-Files" that Fox tried to ban. Would I lie to you? Tsk! I am hurt you doubt me.

If you're still on dial up, what the hell is wrong with you? Also, I'd quit now.

SCULLY is in the morgue late at night about to perform an autopsy

So now you know...

Hey You! Get Off Of My Cloud

Am I the only person out there with issues regarding “personal space”? I’ve just been noticing a lot lately that some people in lines just can’t seem to stand close enough to me. Maybe I'm exceptionally fragrant and lovely, I don't know. One guy the other day was practically inside my pants - in a non-vulgar sense. I know I’m fabulous but could you tone it down a little fella? My Thetons are overheating.

I LOVE THIS WOMAN!

Then today I am in our quarter-empty cafeteria having a late-lunchtime sandwich and soda and looking out the window, when this rotund fellow comes over with his food, ignoring the twenty or so empty tables all around me, and says, “Can I sit with you since you’re on your own?” like he’s doing some enormous favor to the poor girl with no friends who is sitting in isolation because she obviously hasn't heard of deodorant or has The Cooties.

Um…listen fella, I am here on my own because I want to be. I could sit at my desk and chat to everyone while I eat, but I really kind of like spending one hour of the day by myself with my thoughts, my sandwich and the view, which doesn’t include you. Plus I have a messy sandwich full of tomato and condiments, I don’t need to be dripping it all over the table and my chin while you’re sitting there staring at me, freak-boy. I mean I’m a friendly, tolerant (yes really!), polite person but really.

There was this other time when I was on a crowded bus home and this fifty something, portly, mustache-sporting gentleman asked if he could have the seat next to me. “Sure, it’s free.” I said, because the bus was busy and the seat was empty, I mean I’m no seat hogger and it’s public domain and all.

I’d like to ask that gentleman, which part of “Sure, it’s free” translated as, “Hey fella, why don’t you take over three quarters of our double bench with your vast spread-open leggitude while you spend 45 minutes telling me the history of every, single building on Fifth Avenue that we pass on the way downtown, being sure to point out particular locations where various ex-girlfriends have lived or died, while making amazingly cheesy and unfunny jokes and nudging me at every punchline!”?

Which part of me looking out of the window in an effort to hint that, “I’m a little tired and would like to be left alone if you don’t mind” made you think I would possibly be interested in going for “pizza and some drinks” with you and your friend Kevin who still lives with his mom at 57?

I don't know. I'm just desirable I guess.