This Entry Has Been Deleted

Because it was rubbish...

Not An Afro...

I feel for the first time in about 3 years, the curse of the dyed black bob that resulted in burned roots and my walking about looking like Billy Idol is over...

For the first time in years, I woke up, ran a brush through my hair and realized it was actually kinda nice. No straighteners, no frantic product coating, just a comb and a smile...

Lifs is good!!

It's The Little Things In Life...

Friends are great and it's always important to count your blessings and be grateful...

Case in point, it's Friday, I am car-less at work since I can currently car pooling and I am hungry. Scrap that... RAVENOULSY hungry like a bear is eating my stomach and surrounding organs from the inside...

I have been staring at the same sad can of soup for the last hour... the same can of soup that is older than God and lived in my trunk for 6 months only to later be transferred to my bag where it has mocked my mid-day hunger for the last week.



I do not want soup and that can scares me...

JUST as I was about to hit the kitchen and pop open the explosive evil inside that can (ever see the bit in Indiana Jones where they open The Arc Of The Covenant?), my phone went and it's KA asking me if I'd like to go eat Japanese...

OH HELL YEAH!!!!!



Fate... it's a beautiful thing!

ZZZzzzzzzz......

4 days, 3 hours of sleep, 2 PODS, 1 insane landlord. The Move Part 1 has officially taken place. I get the feeling this isn't the end of the insanity but at least we're in a safer place.

A couple of pieces of advice, people:

1- Your landlord is YOUR landlord. His sweet girlfriend is not. Don't be tempted to rent based on someone else.

2- Private rentals stink.

3- Check the house THOROUGHLY before renting- granite countertops do NOT mean indoor plumbing!

Oye... it's been a weekend!

Bloody Addoyin'

It's Pollen Week here at Ellomennowpeekew HQ and it's crap. The high levels of yellow powder are not the type of thing they put in the Travel and Tourism book to describe NC but they really should. Nothing can prepare you for the insanity that is the first few weeks of spring.

Everything is covered in a snow-like coating of yellow evil.

Last night I woke up at 4am to find my eyes were glued shut and my nose felt like I had huffed feathers.

I love this time of year but for some strange reason, I always forget about Pollen Week and then I am reminded of it when I have to dig my car out in the morning while simultaneously ejecting my spleen out of my nostrils.


We are promised rain... I am celebrating with Zyrtec and Margaritas...

My Name is Nate and I am a Beefaholic...

I have had a sad epiphany, y'all... I need to come clean...

I have eaten nothing but Wendy's Bacon and Blue Burgers for 2 days straight...

Friends, it's a kaiser roll with a burger, covered in thick, crispy Applewood smoked bacon, blue cheese crumbles (and contrary to my expectations- having been let down by fast food so many times before- they do not scrimp on the cheese), crispy and fried onions and veggies...

That bad boy is so huge that I am certain it contains a million calories and I will probably never poop again but GOD it's good.

I had the first Sunday night, Yesterday I had one for lunch, another for supper and then one for lunch again today.

I could say it's borne out of a fear that they will cancel the delicious awesome in the same way that Hardees killed my original Jalapeno Burger but it's not... it's greed and poor self control.

Damned if my weakness isn't DELICIOUS!!

Englezeh (sic)

10 am, Easter Saturday, in my pajamas eating chocolate in bed with the old man who is in underpants and passed out on the pillow next to me. Being the more 'aptly' dressed of the two of us, I decide to answer the incessant tapping and ringing of the door- lest it should be our gardener who seems to have forgotten the word, "NO" from his spotty English vocabulary.

I peel back the curtain; a mass of lion's mane curls, melted eyemakeup and a face so thunderous, it could have melted the icebergs the tiny polar bears decorating my pajamas are perched on.

It is not Rojelio...

A small, strange man is on my doorstep. he's holding a zippered leatherbound tome- it's either a bible or a weird briefcase but he's accompanied by an equally well meaning looking young lady. Baptists... I shudder... why is it they pester me at my house and yet I always feel crappy sending them on their merry way? This is how they get you...

I answer the door. It's Easter and they look religious, the guilty CofE in me can't send them away...

My unbrushed teeth form a cursory smile while the man exposes his equally hideous row of gold capped gnashers and immediately unleashes a breakneck string of Portuguese on my cotton wool brain.

I know it's Portuguese because I went there a couple of times and I know enough to order beer, buy tampons and ask for medical help. All the handy stuff- this man asked for none of these things so we'll call it ESP...

Anyway, I cut him off, "Englezeh" I announce in my terrible accent. He smiles and apologizes, asks for someone in the house that speaks Portuguese. There is no one... He asks for someone that might be Brazilian. The penny drops... MOISES! I explain I know no person or persons who are either Portuguese or Brazilian. The man looks confused with a hint of 'I'm Not Buying This'. He apologizes and goes on his way.

Bemused, I settle back in to my 500 thread count pit and simmer. The old man doesn't think it's odd and resumes counting the lights on the inside of his eyelids. Yet I am left with this unsettling sense of dread. The sooner we get out of dodge the better...

Two Faced?

While on a Google quest to try and work out what happened to Al Pacino's face between the Godfather and the subsequent Godfather movies, I received this awesome little ad:





LOLOL!!!



Incidentally, am I the only person that wonders what the hell happened between Godfather 1 and 2?!





He was such a smooth skinned guy and then BOOM (no pun intended), gaunt-faced Al. Did he have a meth addiction I am unaware of?



Inquiring minds need to know...

Observations and Musings on the Subject of Age...

Explain this one to me, dear friends. When did I become an old lady?

I remember a time not so long ago that I would spend all day tanning in the back garden, go to work at 5pm, then go on to a club and get back home on the night bus, only to be back at it again the following day.

There seems to have been some weird shift that I'm not aware of, wherein I now make statements like "I rememeber a time..." I have begun to refer to a certain demographic as 'Young People'. "Young People's music confuses me and what the hell is 'Twittering'" I rant like an old lady wrapped in a Snuggie at the old folks' home. Hell, I KNOW what a 'Snuggie' is...

I guess I should be thankful that I'm at least realizing my shift and not desperately grasping on to every tiny shred of youth I possibly can by being the token beer buyer in the park with the cool 'kids' and displaying my middle aged spread in a tummy top like a warm tube of biscuits that's busted along the seam. Drinking 20/20 and blathering on about how I hope Lady Gaga comes to town and offering to buy the tickets on my Platinum Business AmEx.

Those women scare me... almost as much as the stretched, inflated, Baby Phat Cougars at the mall with their Coach purses and Bedazzled IPhones. Bwahaha... scary...

I guess I should be thankful that these days, my favorite pastime is to play 'Mole or Melanoma' and count down the hours until I can take a nap. It's a good life...

I just wish I knew when it happened. What sparks the change from post-teen to pre-middle aged nag? When we become adults, we have a pubescent period. That's the universe's way of telling you. "Things Are Gonna Change" and you can prepare for it.

Maturity on the other hand seems to creep upon you in the same way that your waistline does.

You kinda, sorta remember the person you once were but in third person- like a young kid you look back at fondly as an old friend... I guess that's the safety mechanism- it's safer imagining it was someone else throwing up in the rest rooms at The Ruskin Arms. Poor kid...

Part of me wishes that I could do the things I used to- strap on a Spandex top, grab the glow sticks and party all night. Part of me looks back at that girl and thinks, 'Good on ya, kid. Enjoy yourself' call me if you need bail money.

It just makes you wonder what else is going to happen over time. What freaky things will I realize about myself and how fast will the world move and leave me standing?

I am already baffled by Social Networking. Ironically, much to the chagrin of my Mother who seems to spend most of her waking hours watering virtual plants and leaving status messages.

I tend to pop in once in a great while and am instantly reminded of why I rarely visit. The reams of emails in my inbox inviting me to join Sausage Roll Appreciation groups or view the "LOL" 28 people left on a comment that I was unfortunate enough to 'like' become overwhelming. It's like going to the ACTUAL mail box and being showered with old-school fan mail. Except it's all rubbish.

It's all just so bloody meaningless and tiring. Urgh!! Call me, my fingers hurt from clicking the delete button on my stupid Blackberry that I don't know how to use properly.

Wow... when did this HAPPEN??

Corelone Creepiness

You know the scene in The Godfather where **Spoiler Alert** Marlon Brando does the oranges in the teeth thing and then keels over in the tomato plants?

That scene would have been WAY pervier if he had done the Mick Jagger tongue with a strawberry...

Fight Club Logic

While attempting to carve my name on the electronic school desk that is The Blogosphere, I have spent the last 45 minutes of my life playing with the templates available from Blogspot- trying to work out which template 'DEFINES' me as a person...

Try saying that sentence in a faux English, draggy accent like the ladies from Park Avenue... add a "Daaaahrling" and a brandy snifter.

GOD I am shallow...

So This Is Not Christmas (and what have i done?)

I have decided (largely because my brain is an endless maelstrom of floating garbage that I apologize in advance for unleashing on the digital world) to share. With you... my faceless, nameless, nickname buddies. I hope there are many of you- and I hope you visit often.

Thank you for visiting my blog. Hopefully in sifting through the cerebral rubble, you'll enjoy the stay!