i have friends in low places: the week in pictures (with some words)

The hoodie returns. As grungy and gross as ever. it's still got the laces that are supposed to sinch up the hood, but I don't think anyone in hoodie history has ever used them. I do chew on the tips sometimes. Because I'm disgusting.


The one thing that came out of my roommate's trip to Italy was that I bonded with her feral cat that wasn't always feral. I'd come home from work or the bars, and I'd simply call his name, and he'd come trotting out of the bushes, mewling like a hungry cat. I'd feed him and stuff, but he was still pretty whatever about me petting him. The bowl was always empty in the morning. One night, I came home, called for the cat, and he appeared on my porch to be fed. I tossed a cup of kibble in his bowl and watched him eat for a bit. After a while, he scurried off, but soon after, I heard a munching noise return to the porch. This time, It was a big ol' racoon. He shoveled food into his mouth with his lil' racoon hands and stared me down as he did so. Very photogenic. We didn't even have to go into makeup.

Woo!!! Nine Inch Nails. ... Trust me, it looked much cooler in person.


If you squint really hard, you can kinda see Trent Reznor in the center of the stage. Go on. Squint. I'm just shitting you. There's no way you can see him.

I got this in my inbox from a publicist by accident. I think she accidentally clicked on the wrong image. It is reprinted here, because I'm a pervert. I had a dream over the week that I was hanging out with people form work and kept accidentally telling one of our part time writers that i was really horny. I thought I was being funny, of course, so I kept making off-hand comments about how horny I was, thinking that she'd get the joke. By the fourth or fifth reference, I realized that I was even creeping myself out and woke up. That has nothing to do with the Pussy Cat Dolls, but damn. They fine.