The Renaming Project

Suicide Pact
Originally uploaded by flinkerfairynuts.

This little project is not something I can take complete credit for. D. Davis must also recieve accolades. I love the idea of finding someone to marry and have babies with, and then in the same thought I am creeped out and get chills.

Are men and women capable of speaking in the same language set? Enough to abide each other till death do they part? I'm just not sure. I have the advantage of being a baby, barely into pre-adulthood, so I get to grow more and more confused as I go along. Yippee.

Getting in the holiday spirit.

"I'm so glad I put the tree in the stand before I rowed across the lake! Brilliant.
Originally uploaded by flinkerfairynuts.

I think it is important to get in the holiday spirit. Great romping mean-spirits. Therefore I have decided to annotate any ridiculous holiday imagery that crosses my path, inspiring me to ridicule. Today's winner is the Christmas J. Crew, a fine publication full of delicious men.

"Thank you for holding. This is the J. Crew Order Center. How can I help you?"

"Oh, yes...uh, thanks. I was wondering, the guy on page 16...can you tell me about him?"

"Michael comes in three different colors, heath, bog, and mocha. He's an excellent handyman and cook. He likes the mountains, as you can see from his rugged limited edition tartan sportscoat."

"About that sportscoat, is it possible to exchange that coat for the Harris tweed?"

"Yes, but the Harris tweed is lined with a fear of commitment and a preference for women with daddy issues. We don't recommend ordering the Harris tweed with Michael. If you are looking for something in tweed could I recommend Devon, on pg. 35?"

"Well, I think I'll stick with Michael. I'll take pg. 16 in bog, and we'll stick with the limited edition tartan sportcoat."

"That will be $128. Would you like expedited shipping?"

"Yes, please. My folks are coming for Christmas and I told them I had a boyfriend. That would be great."

"Ok. Michael will be on your doorstep in 48 hours. Thank you for calling J. Crew. Have a happy holiday!"

Tightrope Walker

Tightrope Walker
Originally uploaded by flinkerfairynuts.

This is without explanation. I just liked the idea of a defensive tightrope walker hanging out above the city.

Flora and Fauna = Baby Deer and Flowers

I Like To Think Woodland Creatures Live There...
Originally uploaded by flinkerfairynuts.

It is important to avoid the Big Evil Douche for several reasons, the most important being that douching destroys the natural flora and fauna in your vagina, as we all know. That phrase always makes me think of little cartoon animals frollicking in my happy vagina, singing songs and learning important cartoon lessons.

So remember, ladies. When you douche, Bambi and his flower friends die!

First Date

First Date
Originally uploaded by flinkerfairynuts.

I wish I said this as often as I have thought it, or half as often as it applies.

Don't feel bad, we're not really this pretty, or high contrast!

Me and Pussy Velour
Originally uploaded by flinkerfairynuts.

In an attempt to join the fight in the battle between the images in girly magazines and actual girls, I have started Photoshopping all of my own pictures so that my friends and I look impossibly beautiful, just like the models in the magazines. If you can't beat'm, join'm.

blog inspiration poem, which all bloggers need

I, being born a woman and distressed
By all the needs and notions of my kind,
Am urged by your propinquity to find
Your person fair, and feel a certain zest
To bear your body's weight upon my breast:
So subtly is the fume of life designed,
To clarify the pulse and cloud the mind,
And leave me once again undone, possessed.
Think not for this, however, the poor treason
Of my stout blood against my staggering brain,
I shall remember you with love, or season
My scorn with pity, -let me make it plain:
I find this frenzy insufficient reason
For conversation when we meet again.

-Edna St. Vincent Millay

That Edna is a sassy lady. Many thanks to the oh, so hot Sarah for giving me this poem months ago when I was in the depths of post-relationship craziness. God, it's good to be out!

I'm a cranky bitch because I'm trying to do too much.

Why, one asks herself while lying in bed when she should be working, am I a lame ass? Is it because I am inherently bad? Is it because I am morally deficient? Is it because I just don't have what it takes?

When I roll over and get out of that drool spot I find that my inner wisdom says, "No, you aren't a bad person, you're just trying to do too much because you have an ingrained sense of Puritanical work ethic that goads you to ill advised scheduling. Also, you are trying to compensate for a myriad of other deficiencies that you believe you have, like short legs, and an inability to comprehend higher maths. Stop this craziness and eat a donut."