Love is staying up until three in the morning playing the remastered Gears of War with the one you love. Adulthood is ONLY staying up until three in the morning playing the remastered Gears of War. I am so nailing this adulting thing.
I love Chomp’s face in this one. She is so obviously irritated that I would take a picture of her while she is getting strangled to death by an alien instead of helping her. Don’t worry though. I totally helped out after taking this awesome picture. It was tricky getting it off of her neck without cutting it off… what with the acid blood and all.
No animals were harmed in the making of this picture. Well… unless you count the alien. Yeah… that sucker is dead.
That moment when you think you are totally out of good coffee and are forced to use the Starbuck French roast you got as a gift…. And then you find a small reserve of good espresso coffee….. And huzzah in triumph and tear up a little. Yeah…. I don’t have an addiction. I can quit coffee any time I want to. I just don’t want to right now.
Also the moment your mother says she is coming up to visit for the third time in ten years… And you look around the mess you call your house. Fuck. On the plus side, it is cleaner than it has been in like two months. But still kinda blah. My motto of the day was “Meh, clean enough.”
Note to self: Call in the reinforcements next time you need to clean in a hurry.
I figured I would upload another weird ass creation that can be found on my zazzle store (http://www.zazzle.com/prepackaged_crap).
This one here is yet another one for other Dresden fans. It’s too bad that I couldn’t actually make it scratch and stiff. I would be extremely disheartened if someone actually scratched their screen and tried to sniff it. Not only is it odd that one would think the screen can be scratch and sniff, but it would be odd that one would WANT to sniff a monkey demon hurling flaming monkey shit.
I will continue to assail your eyes with my odd creations as I come up with new shit.
I find it incredibly annoying when people state the obvious. It’s raining. Really? Is it raining? Is that water falling from the sky onto me? It especially makes me irritated when the obvious is stated in movies.
I am watching The Guardians of the Galaxy as I create some awesome artwork for you all to buy on zazzle. And the green chick says, “You’ve turned off the artificial gravity everywhere except in this room,” after we see the guards floating about in the prison. Really? You needed to state that out loud? It’s like Sigorney Weaver’s role in Galaxy Quest. She just repeats what the ship’s computer has stated. Or like that horrendous Troi from Next Gen. I feel pain. Do you really? Do you feel that creature’s pain? There is a fucking hole the size of a grapefruit in it’s belly…. but do you think it’s in pain?
Troi was seriously the worst thing about Next Generation. I loved Data. Remember…. he was fully functional.
I think the term “Pet Peeve” is a weird term. It makes me want to have a pet that is a peeve. Like a little space alien. Like a tribble. Or SPACE HERPES!!! I am sure not many of you have seen Ice Pirates, but you should. They had space herpes. It was awesome.
It just seems like I only watch space shows and movies based on this posting. I assure you, my geek-tastic-ness extends to other awesome nerd stuff as well. Namely, Buffy. But we will get to that later. Maybe. If I feel like it. For now, I must leave you all as I need to continue to work on the epic art that you will soon be able to purchase. Yes, purchase. I need money for stogies.
Do you ever feel like you have a sidekick in your life? Like someone who takes on the evils of everyday bullshit with you. Someone who you spend all of your time with. Someone who destroys feelings of badness.
I have found my sidekick in life. I am one of the lucky few who has someone in their life to tackle the world with. Better yet, someone to take over the world with.
Yes, I feel as though my dog is my sidekick. My partner in crime. My soul mate (that is if I have a soul.). I know, I know…. But what about your husband? Don’t get me wrong… I love my husband. He is my partner in life. But Chomp is my trusty sidekick. I am sure if she were a horse, she would also be my trusty steed… unfortunately, I am more likely to carry her than she is me.
Chomp and I spend a lot of time together. A. Lot. She is by my side at every available opportunity. She cuddles with me in bed. She sits with me on the couch (it sounds like I am super sedentary, but I have changed my ways… I promise! I get up and get moving and shit. Really!). She comes outside with me and helps me garden. She kills the evil rocks that we encounter when planting flowers. She chases the evil weed clumps away when I throw them out into the greenbelt behind the house. And she keeps the devious shovel at bay with growls and little jumps toward it. She watches my back and keeps me safe from the evils of outside.
I know it does not look like much… but trust me…. it looks amazing compared to before.
And yes, that is Butters the corgi in the window. He does not like the outdoors except to pee. And I think he may be part cat (he is sitting on the back of the couch).
I at least hope it is an epic return. It will likely be more of a mediocre affair in which you all take pity on me and read this out of sheer boredom.
The last few months have been fairly eventless.
I cut my hair.
I went bowling.
I almost died from pneumonia.
I went to see my mother’s new house.
I bought a dress for my sister’s wedding. It was custom made in China.
No, there is no debate on the color. It is purple. It is just below the knee in length. It is V-necked to show off the girls (which I have been told look awesome by the way… and not just by my husband.).
Oh alright…. I will tell you the tale of my almost death. And no… I am not exaggerating. I almost died.
I had been feeling a little winded from walking down the stairs, but I thought nothing of it. I thought I was just way out of shape from my months and months of not exercising. My heart was pounding, and I was breathing heavily any time I got up. This had gone on for two days, but I thought meh, I need to stop eating junk and go for walks with Chomp.
The next night, my husband had become more concerned about my breathing and my heart rate. He said that he could see my pulse in my neck and that it was rapid. He insisted that I go to the clinic. I said that I was fine. Just under the weather. But he became more insistent. To quell his fears, I told him that we should just consult the nurse line. I was fine. Nothing the matter with me.
The nurse insisted that I go to the clinic. So I begrudgingly agreed and got dressed. But I still insisted that we only go to the walk in clinic. I was sure it was nothing serious. My heart rate seemed to have gone down.
Brian drove me to the walk in clinic… but alas, it was closed. I wanted to go home. Oh, well. We tried. But no. He drove me into town and to the emergency room. We drove by the waiting room searching for where to park. I noticed that it was absolutely packed. I didn’t want to deal with the long night of waiting amidst the crowds of sick and injured people. But we parked and walked in anyway.
We stood in line for a minute or two before a nurse came up to us and took my pulse and oxygen reading. She looked at the results and tried another finger. She looked down at the results again and then placed the reader on another finger on the other hand. She said to take a seat in front of the next available admission desk.
We checked in and went to sit down to endure the long wait. I was sure we were going to wait all night. We had barely sat down and a triage nurse called my name and had me sit in the room to take my vitals. She placed a sticker on my finger to take my pulse and measure my oxygen levels as she took my blood pressure. She checked the results of my oxygen reading and placed a new sticker on a finger on the other hand and checked the results again. My oxygen was at 58%.
I later learned that at 80% was super bad. Like organ failure bad. Mine was way worse.
I still felt fine. Just a little winded.
The nurse immediately wheeled me into a room to see a doctor. She would not let me walk. After a few hours of receiving oxygen and tests, it was determined that I had plural pneumonia covering over 80% of both lungs. I was admitted to critical care and spent the next five days in their care.
Even after I returned home, the severity of what had happened had not hit me. Not until my husband explained that my lips were pale the night he took me in. He told me that I could have died if I had just gone to bed as I wanted. He told me all of this on the verge of tears. Tears from a man I had only seen cry twice in our ten years together.
Pneumonia is a bitch, guys.