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Joooooooodi!!!!!!

Kate is trying to seduce me with her prolific prose and heaving blue ridge mountains again!!!

Ahhh. West Virginia, Mountain Mamma.

Dearest Jo-Delicious,

To me the expression "run amok" is always inextricably connected in my mind to "legs akimbo." What do you think this says about me????

Now, Ds,

Just a few things, in no particular order:(COLON ALERT!!!! Fuck it all - alerts should come PRIOR to the calamity. Ah well, fuck it all):(GOD HELP US ALL - ABUSED COLON!!!!): (NEVER MIND):

• I concur with the utter necessity of a good laugh. I weep uncontrollably on fewer occasions if I am chuckling, chortling, tittering (wait - strike that one - I abhor that word), snickering or snorkeling with laughter. Therefore, I give you my sincere thanks for the humour you dish out in generous helpings with ground pepper atop.



• ARTIST??? I blush - I balk at the idea. On the other hand, I am rather fond of the designation, "Artiste." It encompasses so much more feeling.

  Then again, like the wallflower I am, I demur at "Artiste," too. Today, anyway. Always and forever, I should tell you, I own the title, "Queen of Entire Genetic Universe." That's a long story (which, as most people know, usually doesn't stop me, but I think leaving it with a slight air of mystery enhances that form of address).

• I think that a dangling participle, used sparingly and in good taste, is inordinately sexy.

• I am exceedingly fond of your recently coined term, "Quartetedly." I don't find it to be at all inane. One must bear in mind, however, that I have a degree in music.

  Technically, this means I worked my ASS off (not literally - why does it not work that way?) at meeting more requirements than any other major at the University (suffice it to say that the fact I'd majored in ambiguity for a number of years and was a senior when I started the music program AND I was double-majoring (anthropology) with a secret triple major (SHHHH! SECRET!) meant eventually my innate level of insanity multiplied at an alarming rate and I only ended up with the one degree) so that I can teach an occasional private student or class, sing here and there occasionally for a pittance or gratis, and that to make daily bread (which I don't seem to manage at the moment) I have worked in a catalysis lab, a litigation databasing firm, genetic research, medical ethics and end-of-life care, event planning, and chemical engineering. I shan't mention my foray into the worlds of retail sales and management and graveyard shifts at a now-defunct Home Depot-like store - that was e'er to long ago.

  The voices say I should move on.

• I probably shouldn't mock "the voices" too readily, as members of my extended family have been fast friends with them, and I am often considered several tacos short of a six-pack (or whatever the fuck that old adage is).

  That reminds me. My doctor would be very proud that you employ the term "meds." I am inclined to use the expression "drugs." She often corrects this misuse of the accepted jargon. I argue that if you take as many DRUGS as I do you should be able to call them whatever you want. I'm considering "Shirley" (after my Grandfather).

• As for your harem, doesn’t “rooster-harem” infer that you have a seraglio full of ROOSTERS. If you were to introduce a HEN into a harem full of roosters I can only imagine that bedlam, havoc and pandemonium that would erupt. With feathers galore.


• Oh – how many eunuchs are in your harem? As with the number of caretakers to children in daycare, the correct proportion of eunuchs to concubines is essential they say. I’m just curious. The scientist in me is always inquisitive about such statistical matters. “Are you talking about me again?” demands Professor Kate. “Yes, but I was being very complimentary, I assure you,” Kate answers. “I don’t care, BITCH; just shut your pie hole!” screams Professor Kate.


• (DO NOT TELL HER, but I think that Professor Kate is very mean and prone to the employment of old-fashioned and idiotic clichés).


• Hamsters!!! We had a many a hamster, my siblings and I, when we were children. We used to watch them breed; it was educational (misleading in a few comparative ways, but pedagogic nonetheless). I love how baby hamsters look precisely like wee pink jellybeans. If memory serves, at thirteen days they’ve grown a little fur and their itsy-bitsy eyes are almost open. Their genitals are indiscernible just then... Perhaps they are shy?


• It is my understanding that every famous person is entitled to a genital double, so a “penis stand-in” (that’s funny) would be in order. Oh – wait - are you a famous person? I believe that the law states very clearly that UN-famous individuals must use their own phalluses in circumstances in which a penis is required. The same is true for images of the aforementioned penis or penes, whatever the case might be.


• What kind of marmalade?


• I wouldn’t join your stupid harem ANYWAY. Those pants don’t flatter me.


• I don’t really care what variety of marmalade, but I’d skip the anthill if it’s all the same to you.


• Wife, huh? Is she going to marry someone else before the year is out? Evidently my husband is. This is very ironic, but talk about LONG, LONG STORY. I shan’t.

Most Fondlingly,
Sometimes Kate the Cursed

Sorry, Mommy. I told you if you were leaving for a fortnight you needed to get us a babysitter, but noooooooooo... Now look what you've got... West Virginia in the playroom!

What the --? Geez. I can't leave you kids alone for -- 16 days!!!!! oh my god, has it really been 16 days!!!? -- Accch. I guess it's time to "update", as I've been beseeched by quite a few of my most rabid "fans".

Feel free to carry on any and all love affairs here, though, including, but not limited to, the beautiful one running sexily amok between Ds and Kate.

Kiss Me Kate -

As a first point let me state wholeheartedly and with jiggling manparts in extremes not often exposed to sunlight - GUFFAW! A good belly-rumbling chuckle makes my day.

In more of a secondary nature - I love your wit, style and ability to toss about verbs, nouns, and the occasional dangling participle with aplomb. While I may consider myself a bit of a wordsmith, you are obviously an artist. (Parenthetical notation: (COLON!) Jodi is no slouch as wordcraft either, hence my undying adoration of all things wandering jewishness... (ELIPSES!))

Thricely, (I just made that word up because I truly liked the ring of it) I am exceedlingly overjoyed you are taking care of the main part of your large intestine, and thank you for the update on your gargantuan brother and his love of fibrous tubers. Colonoscopies are such a terrible thing to waste, and obviously you won't be needing one at any point in the near future.

Quartetedly, (I don't even need to say anything about that one, it's so inane...) I am not a 13 year old girl, nor do I play one online. However, I have been told I am hung like a 13-day old hamster - I've never been able to tell if that is a compliment or not. My reported and documented manliness can be attested to, confirmed and even show in mugshots by numerous police departments in at least 12 states, and I once sent the owner of this blog a picture of a penis I swore was mine. (She still doesn't know it was actually an old publicity photograph of the stallion who played 'Mr. Ed', the talking horse, so let's keep that to ourselves, shall we?)

Sexedly, (and rather appropriately as well) I want you biblically, intellectually, and tied to an anthill with marmalade spread behind your ears. Habitual nun inferences aside, intelligence is sexy. Unfortunately, neither my wife nor my 101st mistress is likely to look kindly on me adding yet another hen to my rooster-harem.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go take my meds. If I don't take them regularly, the hallucinations start to seem like reality...

Ds,

You aren't a thirteen-year-old girl are you?

Wait - I suppose there is a more pertinent question: (COLON!!!!) Do you MASQUERADE as a thirteen-year-old girl online?

That would be peculiar.

As is the fact that I asked the question.

SMOOOCHES!

Ds, Oh Ds,

(Just so you know, Ds, I do NOT ABUSE MY COLONS. I am criminally over-parenthetical, abusive of CAPITALIZATION and wanton with dashes - perhaps you haven't noticed... Moreover, I flog the ellipse as well - AND I am wont to start a sentence or two or seven with a conjunction, moreover the run-on sentence is NOT beyond me, and I strive for either hyperbole OR euphemism (and NEVER, EVER am I succinct; I find that so last year)).

Oh - did you mean my COLON, as in the main part of the large intestine? I am, at the moment, taking VERY good care of my colon. I am staying in Maryland with my Baby Brother (and thus shall he ever be even though he's almost thirty and 6' 4") and his lovely wife, who are almost exclusively vegan right now. My colon is, in point of fact, rejoicing in fibrous rapture.

About this "wanting" one and "you will be mine," I must ask you to clarify these terms. I have lived as rather a nun for quite a long time (albeit a variety of secular humanist nun), yet I perceive a soupçon of concupiscence in these phrases. Forgive me if I am mistaken, but I'd like to know (perhaps in the Biblical sense?).

Kate -

I want you so badly right now... and not just for the way you abuse your colon. I like your use of your period to end things, too. And your exclamation points to an underlining meaning I can't wait to question. Mark my words - you will be mine.

fuck it all - closing parenthesis missing, bullshit gibberish last line - fuck it all.

GODDAMN SON OF A BITCH AND SUCH.

Yes, in the first sentence of the previous comment I meant the word "comment" to be "comma."

Wait, the comment WAS there as your moniker was in the PREVIOUS sentence.

IMPLIED SUBJECT (AS IMPERATIVE STATEMENT + VERB + NOUN (THE NOUN FORM OF THE VERB "DRAW" OR "TO DRAW") = PERFECT SENSE

In other words, now I'm pondering the same question, DAMN YOU.

You SELF EDIT, Ds?

If I had put the requisite comma that sentence would you still be asking the question?

YES - rhetorical question, that last one.

Wonders... Self edits. Wonders some more.... Self edits some more. Wonders again, and finally unable to stand it, just HAS to ask...

Kate? How does one 'Fuck draw' on a Mac?

Damn. I am so weak.

P.S. I don't like to talk about my trackpad in a public forum. I like my PRIVATE sensual trackpad moments, I guess.

P.P.S. Coincidently, I'm on EST at the moment (as opposed to my standard MST). If anyone wants to come to Maryland and go out cavorting, come on down! Just don't tell my Brother and my Sister-in-Law. They are not of the cavorting ilk.

I suppose I'm not necessarily a technically hard-core cavorter myself, but it sounds awfully nice at the moment.

OH. MY. GOD. I, too, am on a MAC laptop, Ds. Fuck DRAWING. I may inadvertently start on a five-thousand-page rapturous MAC ballyhoo if I cannot restrain myself. I've been called an Apple pundit, you know.

I do have a mouse (a Bluetooth mouse), but I am so entranced with the relative newness of having my own laptop that I am always a-roving, therefore rarely by a surface where I might utilize said mouse.

For those of you who may not know, if you want to buy a used computer, you are the LUCKIEST PERSON IN THE ENTIRETY OF THE WORLD if Grettir, Guru of all That is Super-Cool Computerness, is upgrading to a new laptop. You will get the COMPLETE package for an incredible price (which you stealthily get out of him by pretending someone else wants to buy it because it is a viable fear to think that he might sell it to a friend for fifty cents. Canadian). Two batteries, great bag, all the extra little techie thingies you probably didn’t know existed, personal set-up service, and a detailed list of EVERY little flaw, including the "dent" on the side which I didn't find for two weeks and then wondered if I'd made it myself anyway.

RESTRAINT!!!! Phew.

Jo-dear, when I clicked over to the Pollock page I did spontaneously exclaim (not just aloud, but LOUDLY), "COOL!"

T.g.I.Friday

It's Friday before I finally click "here" and go Pollock on my screen. Wednesday was saved for whining to Mrs. Whitney and Thursday was for thinking-up words like Thoreau.

I change my mouse buttons from time-to-time to bat-away the boredom. I change my co-worker's mouse buttons to bring on the fun.

T.g.I.Fun

You should tell the doctor you "..." was that color...

How was your aim?

How was your stream?

ROFLMAO, Thomas!

It was like ejaculating in technicolor.

Kitten, you just single handedly helped me work out my rainbow of emotions! Thank you.

I pounded the mouse.
I threw the mouse.
I cried on the mouse.
I caressed the mouse.
I licked the mouse.
I bit the mouse.
I laughed at the mouse.
I slapped the mouse.

Then I tied the mouse up, threw it twenty bucks, and left it there completely USED!!!! Fucking mouse.

Pathetic. I can't even draw with a program.

Mine looks like crap. But even crap can be considered a artistic medium these days

BTW, I am on a Mac laptop. So I don't have a mouse. I have a trackpad. And a button. And I finger it seductively. With my right hand. Unless I'm utilizing my right hand for another purpose. In which case I type one-handed with my left.

Mine looks like Britney Spears flashing her patootie at Don Knotts on what appears to be the set of "Dancing With The Stars". Or maybe it's just random colors. Not sure.

Kudos for the intense use of parenthetical expressions! I believe the majority of the post is actually inside parenthesis, including the ever elusive nested parenthetical expression. Well done!

Oh my stars, I foresee simply hours of wasted time!

This helped my West Coast Wednesday start off right! Thanks for thinking of us! Did you see Molly Shannon's toe dance on SNL last week? Shocking!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KK6aZp1OL5c

My ex actually used to switch mouse buttons. Used to make me crazy when I would have to rescue her from some infection caused by random clicking, or the install of some nauseatingly cute screensaver that came with nasty accessories.... Speaking of mouse-based hump-day diversions.. try this one: http://www.notdoppler.com/files/pointer.swf
OK, back to "work"