Morose, like a tuna. Like a turkey burger. Like salad dressing. You’ll be swimming with the noodles. Brains too big to fit in this shoe. Took great pains to strip naked in the most unerotic way possible. Laid those breasts on me and I let out a wail. We’ll both write a page of random phrases and then compare them like we’re playing Scategories. Boxing commentator: "His left hits like French perfume." She was the kind of girl who made you wish you could grow a beard. She was the kind of girl who made you wish she could grow a beard. He won her heart but lost his pants. It’s a federal offence to have sex in a mailbox. A muttering disease. The meat that tastes like cheese. The only meat that tastes like cheese. You’d have a better chance of eating cheese with a straw. The Swiss cheese of meats.

File under something that should be getting more attention:
The death of Fayard Nicholas.
Here's a cute story from Mark Evanier's weblog.

There’s rain on the roof and the puddles grow. They say the sky opens. They say the sky goes on forever. She’s on her knees under the night sky. The rain blocks out the sun. The only sun we’ll ever own. I’m not a part of this symphony. The palm of my hand blurred my vision. We cured pain but not discomfort. We found a cure for everything except one thing, you know, just in case. There’s only one way left to die. The last way to die.

It was raining hard enough to drown out her screaming. All I know is that the worst meal I ever ate was cooked by a woman. Tall enough to reach heaven but not tall enough to prove heaven doesn’t exist. That’s what it’s like being married to you. You’re the only person I’d want to be buried alive with. The whole telephone system has been corrupted by years and years of passing lies. The telephone lines, corrupted by lies, gently hum with despair in the background of every call.

I had a vision right before the playoffs started. Yeah, that’s right, a real live vision. I’m not sure of the exact time. I’ve learned that you should really mark it down when you have a vision. Next time. I remember exactly where I was, anyway. I was in the kitchen, walking towards the front of the house. That’s where it hit me. In a split second I saw my younger brother and myself in the living room celebrating a Steeler victory in an AFC Championship Game. I couldn’t tell what team they were playing or when it was, but it was some time in the not too distant future. I guess it turned out to be this year.

My brother and I finally managed to get to the theater to see the 40 Year-Old Virgin. Yeah, I know, it came out in August. Anyway, great, great movie, but you probably already knew that. Carry on.

Hmmm, the guy who had the heart attack when the Bus fumbled was Terry O'Neil. The head coach of the New York Islanders is Brad Shaw.
Brad Neil O'Terry Shaw.
Brad Neil O'Donnell Terry Shaw.
Neil O'Donnell Terry Bradshaw.
Coincidence?

Took down Christmas lights.
Ate doughnut.
Watched Taking Lives.
That was quite the twist ending.
[spoiler]U2 over the credits[/spoiler].
I didn't see that one coming.

I'm really glad I dragged myself out of bed this morning to go to the gallery talk at Pitt. I wasn't going to go until I saw that Kelly was going. I didn't want to be the only graduate there because I'm stupid like that. It turned out that there were at least three of us. It was good to see Kelly and Eric. I Hadn't seen those two in a while. It was also great to talk with some of my old teachers. There are some great art teachers at Pitt right now. I was very lucky to get the chance to study with them. Can I re-enroll and go again?

It was also my grandmother's 77th birthday. Happy birthday, grandma. We had the second of her two parties. I spent most of the time having a lengthy conversation with my seven year old cousin. Well, she did most of the talking. I would cut in with some incredibly stupid comment or question to try and crack her up. Good times.

Last night’s dream: I was an eight year old, slightly retarded, Mexican boy. I was in public school and for the final project I had to read from a picture book in front of the class, but instead of reading from the book I gave a speech declaring my love for a little, blonde girl in the class. I gave a beautiful and moving speech. When I was done the teacher drew me over and told me that, yes, what I had said was very nice but she’d have to flunk me because I didn’t read from the book. When I woke up I was crying. That Steeler game really messed me up.

That was the most beautiful, exhausting, crazy-ass game ever.

She was the Babe Ruth of bulimia. She could eat a hamburger with all the fixings and just throw up the pickles, just the ketchup, just the bun. She could eat a meatball sandwich and only throw up the roll. Eat spaghetti and only throw up the sauce. Yeah, she was really something.

It has been brought to my attention that today is the ten year anniversary of the Neil O'Donnell Song. On January 12th 1996, two days before the Steelers met the Colts in the AFC championship game, my older brother, sister, and I went on the Doug Hoerth radio show and performed the Neil O'Donnell Song, the only song, to my knowledge, ever written about Steeler quarterback, and Superbowl goat, Neil O'Donnell. My brother wrote and sang the song while my sister played the tambourine and I played an Em chord over and over on the guitar.

We handled ourselves well. My brother talked to 'Uncle Dougie" about John Fred and his Playboy Band, and I, young and ashamed of my homeschool upbringing, answered the question of what I do by saying "It's complicated." Hilarity ensued. We received some black and gold bagels for our trouble.

The Steelers beat the Colts but would go on to lose the Superbowl.

Here's something for all you United States Court of Appeals fans.

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

9:00 a.m.: United States v. Patricia C. Madigan, No. 05-0417/AF

Counsel for Appellant: Capt John S. Fredland, USAF
Counsel for Appellee: Capt Jin-Hwa L. Frazier, USAF

Case Summary: GCM conviction of an Air Force nurse for dereliction of duty, wrongful possession of hydrocone, wrongful use of diazepam, and forgery of prescriptions. Granted issue questions whether the military judge erred by ruling that the purported positive blood lab test for diazepam was admissible when the Government denied the defense access to the evidence by destroying the blood sample.

Good seats still available.

Tyrone Carter. Clap clap, clap clap clap.

Mr. Carter only had 11 tackles during the regular season but comes up with 7 tackles, all solo, during a thrilling Steeler victory on Wild Card Sunday.

Props also go to Cedrick Wilson for accounting for half of the Steeler's passing attack.

Lets hear it for the guys you make fun of during the regular season coming through in the playoffs.

Did I get married last May? I don't remember that.

She raffled off her genitals. With love screaming through his genitals. They didn’t so much make love as their genitals argued through the night. Another rancid Thursday dawns, pisses on the children. He looked me in the eye and rattled his genitals. Reached into his pocket and rattle his genitals. She was the kind of girl who could rattle a guy’s genitals. Said she was knitting a saddle for my dog. Avoided her after that. He’d always try to sneak up on me but I could hear his genitals rattling from a mile away. She said she recognized the sound of his genitals, captain. We have a court order that says you have to shake your hips into this tape recorder. Recordings of genitals are not admissible in a court of law. You know that. A fool rattles his genitals. The wise man’s genitals are unrattleable. He stood taller than any dog.

The president was briefed on the progress in Iraq and Afghanistan this morning and all his talking points still apply.

The University of Pittsburgh Studio Arts faculty exhibition is coming up. There's an opening reception from 5-7 pm on January 12th. There are also a bunch of noon gallery talks: Edward Powell and Delanie Jenkins on the 18th, Bovey Lee on the 25, Joanna Commandaros on February 1, and Steve Hankin on February 8th.