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The Bounty was Houn'ed.
Punkins were carved.
Gratuitous boob shots were taken.
Upskirts as well.
Pirate tattoos were given.
shots were taken from the ice luge.
crazy costume back-stories were created*.
it was a good night for Dog and Beth.
*Evan kept being asked "oh, are you the guy from Donnie Darko?" and he'd reply with "no! don't you see the bandalier?? I'm a crazy assassin bank robber in a rabbit mask!" oh, I see... why hadn't I realized??
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do you want to hear how fantastically nerdy my Dear Husband is? Check out The Taint's profile on MySpace and you can hear their pirate song that was just re-recorded!
http://www.myspace.com/thetaintmusic
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in the UU Gallery at Cal Poly San Luis Obispo
I love this painting, particularly, because it is his wife, Shannon, and it looks exactly like their daughter Molly (who also is an award winning artist, you can look at some funnies here). And they are both my favorite.
him : so, how do you like your name?
me : zuh?
him : oh, we just named our baby "Mia" and so I was wondering how you like it.
me : oh, fine I guess...
What I should have said :
"pronounced correctly"
"actually, I'm more of a Mertle"
"Lucida Calligraphy font, green with exclamation points!!!!"
"before PhD"
"better than Tiffanie"
"after the 'payable to' line on a check"
For work : Pippi
For Party : Dog the Bounty Hunter & His Wife, Beth
...but now the Halloweems party is on! But I realize that I might not have time to make a scarlet wedding dress and find Ryan a crushed velvet suit to wear. My other ideas :
for me Britney : sloppy t-shirt [I've got the Golden Ticket], low-rise jeans, blonde wig with black roots, drag around a baby with a cigarette hanging out of its mouth and a bag of Cheetos. for Ryan Kevin Federline : shirt that says "Mr. Spears", baggy jeans, cheesy sideburns, fedora OR trucker hat, sign stuck on his back that says "douchebag"
for work Madeline or maybe Pippi [this picture is photoshopped, but hilarious]
--------I find myself listening to songs that I am not really in the mood to hear, but I feel too guilty to skip them. If I was in my car -- the most sophisticated bubble of anonymity ever created -- I would change the channel in a heart beat. No one would see me, no one would know. But somehow I feel like Launch Cast is someone doing me a favor. Streaming music through my PC feels like a gift that I need to be more grateful for and that I shouldn't dare skip past any song -- especially if its an artist that I have marked "can't get enough".
But I will tell you this (in a whispered hush, lest anyone hear me) : sometimes "Exodus" just strikes me as boring.
My stylist can blow out all these kicky styles with just a flick of the wrist. She uses the barrel of the dryer like a second hand, somehow hoisting and holding the hair while she brushes the underside. She parts my hair quickly with the left hand and the right hand – holding the blow dryer – is already up and under and smoothing it out. It’s a thing of beauty. Myself, I can only create frizz. And static. And sweat. After blow drying my hair, I often look like I was in a fight in the jungle and I have lost miserably. Sweat droplets are running down the small of my back. I am out of breath. My face is read and blotchy. And my hair is a frizzball with kinky little pieces reaching to the heavens, that catch the light to accentuate my failure of a hairstyle. No amount of conditioner, crème, gel, or tonic can redeem this … abomination of hairstyling. And you can bet your ass that if I have just spent 30 minutes melting the bristles of my hairbrush and my deodorant is working over time, I sure as hell am NOT going to pull that shit back in a ponytail. Nuh uh.
I probably couldn’t be admitted to Beauty School. They’d review my transcript and scoff. I can see them sitting, the panel of stylist judges. Vidal Sassoon, Paul Mitchell, Toni & Guy will both be there, even Augusten Burroughs will make a surprise appearance. They’ll look at my History of Hairstyling, and question me line by line.
“Is it true that you once left on a hair dye so long that it literally turned into actual petroleum jelly?”
“Yes, sir, but… well I was trying to achieve a lighter blonde and I thought…”
“You’re a natural dark brunette, are you not?”
“Well, yes, but…”
“I think I have heard enough, thank you.”
“Is it also true that you routinely bleach your own hair – to horrific shades of golden orange and blonde?”
“Yes, that is correct.”
“And again, for the record, your natural hair is dark brown?”
“Yes.”
“And yet you attempt home lightening?”
“Yes… yes, I do.”
“The ten shades of red currently on your head – are any of those natural?”
“Maybe, I mean, I don’t know. I have certainly dyed my hair this color, but it might be near to a natural color -- stop laughing! –- because I used to get these -– I mean it, stop laughing!! –- auburn highlights from the sun. And anyway, I don’t want your permission to color other peoples’ hair – I just want to learn to blow dry.”
“But you have colored other peoples’ hair, haven’t you?”
“Well, yes…”
“I see here, “ he says, flipping through the documents, “a bleach-out job done to a certain David Walters. And after achieving a white blonde color, you then applied hot pink color to the head in a leopard pattern?”
“Yes. I did that. But please… about the blow dryer, you see…”
Augusten Burroughs adjusts his ballcap and leans in, across the high oak desk, “Yes, yes… about the blow drying.”
“Thank you, sir –“
“- no ‘sir’ is necessary. I see here that you like to hold the dryer just inches from your hair. And that, on occasion, you burn your own hands – is that accurate?”
“Well, yes, I suppose…”
“…and that last year when you were still wreaking havoc on that bleached out highlight across the crown of your head, that you actually used the dryer so close to your head that your hair melted?”
“It didn’t melt, exactly… I mean, the heat was… I was…. Well, there was a swatch of hair that sort of singed and then stuck together.”
“And when you attempted to brush the hairs apart, what happened?”
“The section broke and fell off. About 3 inches from my scalp is where it broke off.”
“And I see here that the section of hair was approximately 3 inches wide? And was not at the time disguised with other layers cut into the hair?”
“Yes, but… wait, aren’t you the one who used conditioner to –“
“- I think we’re done here.”
I whacked another 4 inches off of my hair the other night. The color looks like poop on a stick, but I'll take care of that this weekend. Right now it's ultra flippy in the back (happy curls!) and Aeon Flux in the front -- I look like I have an Ashley Judd pixie mullet.
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Because I'd pretty much do anything Jules says, plus it's just plain fun, here is my submission for Send a Silly Face to a Friend Day 2005.
I'm also posting more faces on Flickr as I get them -- so send 'em over, or sign up for my Flickr group!
A : If you answered 3am, then you are right! Why so late?
Despite the lack of sleep, we got to the walk on time and had a lot of fun. There were some emotional moments -- how can there not be when you're there to raise money for sick kids?? Our team raised over $10,000 which was... amazing. And that's without the company match! Yay us!!
When we got home, we were tired but kind of awake... so we had some breakfast and then decided to watch a movie. Last week Ryan moved the 'old' DVD player into our bedroom, which is the BEST place to watch a movie. You can get all cozy and comfy and then just pass out 30 minutes into a movie... the BEST. Plus, I have one of these u-pillows (thanks ma!) which makes snuggling into bed the best. thing. ever.
