hello friends

Some manner of ruckus is heard emanating from the bedroom of mechamom and Quentin.
Me: "What on earth are they DOING in there?"
Mecha: "I don't even know."
Me: "I probably don't WANT to know..."
Mecha: "I think they're killing each other gradually."
Me: "Isn't that the definition of marriage?"

I invite everyone to have a nice day today, for whatever reason you care to select.

Me, my reason is 'cause we're seeing Wolf Creek today. If you are unfamiliar with this title, save perhaps that it is an unrated slasher flick, then these snippets courtesy of Rotten Tomatoes should shed some light on my anticipation.


It apparently descends into a pool of bloody entrails with its lurid and sadistic killings.

Its graphic depictions of mindless cruelty are revolting.

As it goes on, the action gets implausible enough to seem like parody.

Perhaps Roger Ebert says it best, in his no-stars review: There is a line and this movie crosses it. I don't know where the line is, but it's way north of "Wolf Creek."

Sounds like our kind of movie, y'know?

Are you amused by El Presidente's inability to use doors?

Do you need desktop wallpaper?

Why not click here?

(or for high quality, here)

Mecha is watching the "Q Who?" episode of Star Trek TNG. The following ensued.

Mecha: "Amanda Huggenkiss... why can't I find Amanda Huggenkiss?"
Me: "...why are you quoting that now?"
Mecha: "'cause this girl's name is Amanda."
Me: "Oh, man, even better, why can't you find Amanda Roger?"
Mecha: "Her last name is Rogers!"
Me: "Yeah, so take off the plural and... you know what rogering is, right?"
Mecha: "How'd you remember that was her name?"
Me: "I dunno. Just did." <--- correct answer: I AM A NERD.

I also totally just talked like Roast Beef in an IM. See?
[14:20:47] mapricotonkey: *shoves mecha into sharp things*
[14:21:02] The Jennybork: HOORAY uh i mean oh man that is kind of not good

Mecha's costume:

That's a solid-steel-armature spork there, kiddies. How many weird looks do you think the Grim Sporker got tonight?

My costume:

You can't really see it, but the head of my cane is this GIANT (40mm diameter!) crystal drawer pull from a hardware store. Who the hell would put one of those on a drawer I haven't a clue, but it made excellent canebling.


Bitch best have my meat or else be facin' my pal Grimmy. Respec' to tha J-N-Y. Word.

Mash (it amuses me to call you Mash): If you were trying to download the stuffs from me this fine evening/morning/whatever, I apologize -- Comcast unexpectedly vomited all over me and I had to reboot to get my connectivity back. Hopefully (again, if this was even an issue) you were using some kind of resumable download thingy. Otherwise, you can join me in punching Comcast IN DA FACE for dropping me in the middle of battle in YPP.

Mecha: Tsk. You left the stew out. I put it away, though, so all is well. Leftovers tomorrow yum!

Brain: Stop repeating that one bit of The Trapper Song over and over again. I know that the blood of a fresh-killed rodent is as sweet as brandy-wine, and that the brain of an antelope tastes like cantaloupe. DROP IT ALREADY.

I saw the MST version of Manos tonight. It were great. Ted and I nearly died laughing at the scene where the Master sticks Torgo's hand into the fire. Then mecha rewound it and we nearly died laughing at it again.

And now, greatly-overdue sleepage.

Spent a week as a Hare Krishna but I didn't like the shoes
Went down to the synagogue but I don't know if I'm a Jew

This makes no sense to anyone else, and that's just too bad, now idn't?

Mecha: "You know what I don't get about this What Women Want movie? Y'know, the one where Mel Gibson can read women's minds?"
Me: "What?"
Mecha: "Why he doesn't go mad from the silence."

And then I pummeled him mercilessly.