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December 26, 2007
i can haz 15 minutes of fame.
The black and white one is my crazy Q, and the attacker is HoneyBee's Jakie.
Vote!
Posted by lysa at 3:57 PM | Comments (6)
December 24, 2007
Merry Christmas
Christmas is interesting. My fiance is a Buddhist, I'm an atheist, and yet we still manage to rack up an insane amount of giftage around the holidays. This year we amassed one PS3, Rock Band, a collection of fresh herbs, an espresso maker, a Simpsons lamp and my new Nikon D40. All I need now are several GPS receivers/trackers and a sick telephoto zoom lens and my lifelong dream of becoming Veronica Mars will be complete!
I'm still an amateur, but even with my abilities you can still see the camera takes some beautiful pictures.
Posted by lysa at 9:19 AM | Comments (4)
December 21, 2007
Sure, Mr. That'll be ready on Wednesday. By the way, you have the right to remain silent.
If your last name was Sodomsky and you had a collection of child pornography stored on your hard drive, would you bring your laptop into circuit city to be repaired?
I was under the impression that there was no expectation of privacy when you bring your computers in to be fixed. Apparently, there hasn't been a precedent set for this. We'll just have to encrypt our porn for now, and wait for the Supreme Court to make a decision.
More details here
Posted by lysa at 9:17 AM | Comments (3)
December 17, 2007
Now for the Holidays: Crotch!
It's been difficult for me to come up with things to write about. For one, the things that have been ticking me off lately are all well covered by writers way funnier than me. Secondly, the only unique things I have to go on about involve my upcoming wedding, and I refuse to do entry after entry complaining about vendors and the complete and total lack of professionalism and courtesy for the fact that this is supposed to be the most important...
See, there I go.
Anyway, can someone please tell me what the woman in the above displayed photo is doing? Here I am, looking for some new wool pants because my thighs suffered an inconvenient bout with freezer burn this morning, and Banana Republic is off displaying their new line of easy, breezy crotch wear.
Posted by lysa at 5:37 PM | Comments (5)
December 1, 2007
Why do I always ride the Crazy Horses?
Every time I go horseback riding I get the horse with the wild look in his eye. My horses are young with a penchant for looking with longing into open fields. My horses stop every 3 feet, gaining the hatred of the tour guide who has to constantly remind me that the horses are not supposed to eat. Today I had a horse who loved to trot, tongue hanging out, stepping into high stepping prance.
But *nothing* my horse could do could come close to the absolute wreck our tour guide was.
Alex showed up late and flamboyantly explained how he was at the bar, drinking. He was smashed. Nervous as this city girl is around horses ( there's pictorial evidence of this ) having a tanked tour guide did nothing to reassure me, neither did the trot my horse immediately started off on. Always the crazy ones, I tell you.
Anyway, Mr. Gayer-than-80's-irradescant-leggings led us along slippery rocks, 40 degree down sloped hills, and didn't quite take me seriously when I informed him I was getting off my horse and walking down the hill. Eventually, he came to understand that I was quite serious. Asshole.
Anyway, again, none of this even comes close to the abuse my booboo had to take. This guy was *ALL* over him, talking to him about him and his ex-boyfriend, who was also Chinese. He asked my booboo if he was Chinese at least 3 times, and then proceeded to tell him all the sexual tricks him and his "Chinesito" ex boyfriend did. I mean, who doesn't want to hear about ice cream balls when you're getting soaked in the rain. Did i mention it poured?
During the deluge, our giddy gu‪ide decided it was time to take off his shirt. In fact,
he decided both the men should ride shirtless and while on horseback, tried to take off my booboo's shirt. Normally a man of perfect temperament, my booboo was now in full assault mode, holding the reigns in one hand, and displaying a fist in the other. The tour guide got the hint, and trotted on up to me. I said trotted up because for the entire ride he was flirting with my booboo and ignoring me. As mean as it is to say, it's nice to see a guy trying to get down his shirt instead of mine.
I think we'll skip horsebacking riding on our next vacation.
Posted by lysa at 9:52 PM | Comments (4)