Deck the Halls!! **wait! Stop punching me in the face!!** :(

Ah yes! It's the most wonderful time of the year. Here as promised for your viewing pleasure ladies and gentlemen, my teeny holiday offering. Standing just under 4 feet tall, it is a giant in the world of Christmas spirit and puts forth its best effort to light its little corner of the world. Although you cannot tell from this shot, the color scheme is cobalt, silver, and light blue. It really is adorable. In fact, i dare all of you to share your own holiday offerings so we can judge...er enjoy them. Stormy told me she had a peacock tree which i am refusing to believe until i see it. :D If
you haven't checked out My Space recently, i strongly suggest you do so, as it has also turned into Holiday Hullabaloo there as well. i have been crafting Christmas cards, angels, and beaded snowflakes (which unfortunately aren't as glorious as they sound and a tad time consuming... and haven't had the proper time to devote to creating the List for you all. It seems now may be my only shot at letting everyone know what i want this year, so i decided to make it easy for you. The following are mere pictures of the essence that is an M G A Roadster. I've included 2
colors here to whet your appetite but feel free to pick whichever monochromatic scale sparks your interest. i'm not a huge fan of yellow, but wouldn't outright deny it love altogether. Again, the year and model aren't set in stone, but i am leaning more toward the 70's era, as you see. i'm not picky. Any of them would look fine sitting in my driveway that frosty morn graced with an enormous festive bow. Yet another anti - stipulation to bring it into your price bracket... it doesn't even have to run. **sigh** The joys of having a mechanically inclined husband. (i will abstain from mentioning here that i have not had a side view mirror on my car for a year... and have asked repeatedly to have it repaired with NO LUCK so far... it appears his vehicle magic works for everyone but me). oh well. So, there you have it folks. The only other thing i need from you... ADDRESSES so i can send out my Season's Greetings!! e-mail them to me if you like or just call me. :) And Merry Early Christmas!! xo

No we don't ALWAYS sit around naked...

i noticed that both images i selected for this blog appear to have captured us sans clothing of any kind... so i am here disclaiming that notion. i AM wearing a towel and Gabe IS wearing boxers. :D Ahem. Anyway - it's been awhile since i entered the wonderful world of Blog so i thought i should pay my respects. i've done my hair recently and everyone was pretty impressed with the style. i'd never gone for the tongue in the light socket look and thought it was high time for a change. i sent this picture to Gabe while he was hard at work and i think he ended up laughing so hard that he broke a windshield and his boss made him pay for it. ;) He is having a grand old time at the Automotive Design where he makes crap-thirty an hour and seems to me to be RATHER unappreciated. But what do i know? i'm still at the Blind and Stutter Gallery - came close to quitting a few weeks back, then decided to recant since my "Freelance Writing" profession hasn't picked up yet. Married life is wonderful - we went Christmas Tree shopping last week but aren't allowed to put it up yet because the house is messy, Thanksgiving is this weekend and we have no ornaments to put on it. At least ONE of those stipulations will be done away with in a few days... so expect some tree pics up soon! We decided to be a little more creative this year since the family has gotten so large and some of the younger ones apparently complained about having TOO MANY PRESENTS to open. We drew names last night and are eagerly pursuing the trail of gifting pandemonium. Gabriel decided to take up a new hobby which, although i was rather shocked and amused over at first, i am now very proud of... cross stitching. He has faced good natured adversity for this but little do his antagonists know he is laboring over their gifts...

Part Four

While Hilbesenter laughs his boots loose as he crawls in as much of a cockroach like manner as he can, Dunk and Erin emerge into an enormous cavern filled with innumerable quantities of glass medicine bottles, old canvas, candy wrappers, and tanks of helium gas. In the middle of the trodden path stood a HUGE deformed obelisk of varying shades of yellow, orange, and brown. Intrigued, Dunk stepped closer, searching for an inscription to explain its existence. As he neared the statue, he noted that a very peculiar odor permeated the air surrounding it. Reminded him of... earwax?! How strange! His consecutive thought patterns were interrupted by a shrill, eardrum shattering indecipherable decibel reading "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! which grew softer and softer as eh listened, stunned. He whirled around, searching bewilderedly for Erin. She was nowhere to be found! Dunk's first wimpy inclination was to run like crazy back up the tunnel they'd come from. Then the machismo kicked in and he realized with growing excitement that this was a brilliant opportunity to redeem himself for the inactive rescue blunder he'd made earlier in the day. Er ... yesterday... er... last week. Funny how time passes when you're lost in an underground maze. He searches the room frantically for things that could assist him in his mission. The only thing he can find are the used helium tanks. He saunters over to a bright red one and turns the pressure nozzle. Fumes begin seeping out as he thinks, "i wish i had a balloon." How long he stands there lost in his daydream of being a child at a birthday party, i cannot say. (again, the time space continuum interrupts). When he finally comes to his senses and shuts off the gas, the tank is nearly drained. His head feels a little silly but he will not let that stop him. He grabs some bottles off the floor and begins the Search, calling out, "Erin! Erin - where are you?!" as loud as be possibly can. Unfortunately (but rather Humorously), the helium has caused his normally deep, sonorous voice to be reduced to sounding a bit like a Jiminy Cricket record being played at 45. Or Minnie Mouse as a premature baby. Meanwhile, Erin, in no seeming danger at all, has been dropped down a chute landing in none other than... you guessed it. The Evil Laboratory. All the lights have been turned out and the control console flickers and glows like a Christmas tree in December on 5th Avenue. Then, she sees it. The Button. A big gleaming yellow one. It beckons to her. It calls her name softly, repeatedly. (or maybe that's Dunk's search efforts getting closer...). Before she realizes it, she is standing directly in front of it. Her traitorous hand reaches out of its own volition. Her pointer finger is poised directly over the fate of the world. Her eyes are wide as saucers and two tiny flashing buttons are reflected therein. Her heart is pounding out of her chest and blood surges like the ocean in her ears. Closer, closer...

Part Three

An emblem with the letters J/B separated by a lightning bolt adorns his billowing cape, which is the lovely shade of bellybutton lint and that bald monkey's butt tannish color, which combined makes an almost smoky shade of dark gray. He trips right at the door and his toes make that sound where you think he's broken all of them and falls into his room out of Dunk's sight. Dunk lengthens his strides and pushes himself harder to catch up. But in his haste he develops cramps in his armpits. With both arms crossed, he continues in pursuit, rubbing his pits in circular motions. Reaching the door he stops too fast and falls on his face, right on the spot that Miss Ringfurdil just had her wet accident. With "yellow liquid" running off his nose, cheeks, and chin; he pushes himself off the infested floor and peeks around the corner into the room Hilbesenter fell in. He sees, much to his interest, two blurs of ninja acrobatic combat furies - Hilby is in full warfare with some other insane inmate. Sounds of car brakes and trains derailing pierce the room as the blurs fly around in abstract shapes and smash into each other frequently. The struggle is forsaken by the blue blur as it exits the room and dashes hastily down the hall. Dunk, petrified by the thing flying by him, erupts into a fit of gas. The fumes make their way back to the main room and there, promptly knock out four unsuspecting wardmates. After recovering from the fart-pisode, he enters the room. Having temporarily forgotten Hilbesenter's wearing his shirt by all the excitement, he asks, "Whose room is this?" Hilby, with very little breath left answers, "M-i-n-e," taking a breath in between each letter's sound. Dunk, trying to help, wipes the sweat off Hilbesenter's face. But because he had been rubbing his armpits, all his hands really do is leave the smell of P.U. all over his face. Embarrassed of what he's just done, Dunk quickly grabs a rag out of a nearby basket and rubs the underarm sweat off Hilby's face. Hilbesenter, instead of being grateful, cries out in horror of it all, and Dunk realizes it's not a rag, it's "drawers" and it's not a basket, it's a "dirty laundry hamper!" Giving up on being any help at all, he forsakes the idea and just asks, "And WHO WAS THAT?!" Hilby takes a careful breath - "That was Erin; she's been in this ward longer than any other resident," introduces the soiled cretin.

All the while, our two Doctors tremblingly await their doom in the makeshift lab of the psychotically demented and insidious Johnny Boom. He grins menacingly at their abject terror, then spins around, turning his back on them. Dr. Frizwal cocks his head to the side like a puppy and comments, "How exquisite!" i once possessed an overcoat of that rare hue - Marigold Gray." Murgatroyd, however, thinks it looks rather ugly and reminds her of an asthmatically deceased elephant. Oh well. Maybe she should get coke bottle glasses like the Professor sports. Suddenly, a plan begins to form in her mind. She leans over and whispers into Frizwal's ear. Johnny busies himself humming and mixing and exploding various colored chemicals in glass beakers (true to his name), maniacally laughing the whole time. Frizz reaches into his pocket and pulls out the bag of garlic, dumps a handful into his mouth and, chewing nervously, finishes them off. Murgie's eyes begin to water vehemently from the potent, overpowering smell. Johnny turns around, puts his nose in the air and sniffs delicately in all directions. The cage keys dangle from his belt, making noiseful clinking racket as he twists this way and that, attempting to decipher the strange odor. Just then, Murgie falls against the side of the steel entrapment, howling and hiccoughing violently. Boom is worried and slowly comes closer to the cage. She draws a small red package out of her purse and the delightfully pungent aroma of cinnamon fills the air. (now, cinnamon happens to be J.B.'s Kryptonite.) Johnny's eyes pop wide open and make a **Ding-ding!** sound as 2 tiny pictures of cinnamon candy appear in them. Murgie smiles innocently and offers him some. Boom unwilfully steps closer, magnetically drawn to the object of his affection. When he is a mere six inches from the iron bars, the Professor draws in a huge breath and expels it with all of his might into Boom's general face direction. Nothing happens. Then Johnny blinks twice and hits the ground with a **Plink Doink Doink.** Frizwal and Potkettle look at each other in sheer jubilance - their plan has succeeded!! Frizz yells "YAAAAAAAY!!!" and Murgie unfortunately joins Johnny on the floor. Hipocken just shrugs, grabs the keys from the belt loop and opens the cage door, taking his first wary step into freedom.

Back at the Asylum, Dunk puzzles over the sudden disappearance of the elusive and mysterious (and also rather stinky) Hilbesenter, then begins his search of the messy room for a secret exit. Brushing away some of the mess from one of the corners he finds... A TRAP DOOR!! But, still being a bit rattled, he re-enters the hallway, drawn to where he sees Erin eating vanilla pudding at one of the many sad little round chipped tables in the main room. He sits down with her cautiously and asks about the abnormal Hilbesenter. She goes on and on about how he's more psychotic than she is, but Mr. Rappingtin is too quick minded, even in his indifferentism, to buy such frivolous white lies. Finally, she queries, "Why do you ask about the weirdo?" He replies, with no hesitation, "He wearing my shirt!" with spite in his tone. He continues, "I found a secret trap door in the corner of his room..." Erin suddenly livens up and shouts, "I've been looking for that passageway for months! Show me!" So the two head off into the room and dive headfirst into the mess filled tunnel. Thankfully, this one is ten feet tall and they can walk upright in it. But just as they enter the Secret Way, Hilbesenter reaches the end and comes to the Underground Laboratory, where he finds Dr. Frizwal desperately trying to wake Murgatroyd. Hilbesenter leaps out into the light and says, "Hey! Hey! Hey!" The doctor looks behind him to see Hilby standing there with his legs spread wide like a cowboy. All this transpires just as Dunk asks Erin Girl how she met Hilby. "It was while he was being stupid," she tells him, but all he does is nod his head as he thinks to himself... would that be all the time? The thought came simultaneously, as Hilbesenter was just at that very moment showing the doctor how to use the giant spy computer in the hidden laboratory. Johnny regains consciousness and finds them pushing buttons like it was some kind of pinball machine. He hollers hysterically with building slowness like a stop motion picture, "Don't pu_s_h a_n_y m_o_r_e b_u_t__t__o__n__s!" He takes hold of the cage bars and pulls himself to his feet. In fear of which buttons they might have pushed, he walks menacingly toward them, glaring at them very closely with burning eyes. As he approaches the computer he sees two of the little green buttons right beside the big yellow one have been pushed and becomes displeased by the room's ambiance shouting, "You almost pushed the yellow button!! Get away from it!" The yelling was loud enough to wake the garlic knocked out Murgatroyd. Johnny rounds up the peculiar group and gets them going back the way the doctors came; to Mr. Rappingtin's place. They approach the 3 foot tall hallway and Johnny pushes one of the bricks in. The ceiling rumbles and then begins moving upwards with the sound of a giant stone rolling. It grinds to a halt at a leisurely ten feet tall and they start their exit from the Lab with the Boominator in the lead. Murgatroyd says to the strong smelling Frizwal, "If only we had found one of those buttons instead of just rushing in, we could have WALKED all this way!! But no, we had to crawl like cockroaches." Hilbesenter begins to snicker, "You crawled through this?!" Then he goes down on all fours crawling slowly in mockery in front of the 2 doctors, a joke he finds hilarious.

Ad Continuum...

The rather old garlic smelling overly educated British doctor and his bright young apprentice, unprepared for the sight awaiting them, enter the bathroom and, upon seeing Dunk Rappingtin lying there, pass out themselves. The extremely attractive apprentice is the first to come back to her senses. She rolls over groggily and catches sight of her beloved doctor seemingly unconscious. Thinking quickly, she pats him down, reaches into his left coat pocket and removes a tiny brown paper bag full of raw garlic. Swooning was something Dr. Frizwal did quite often (this is the last time you get to pick out character names!!) so Murgatroyd Potkettle the lovely Assistant knew how to take care of him. She stuffed his cheeks with about 12 cloves of garlic, then forced his mouth shut and waited. He awoke within seconds and began shouting orders in his thickly accented feeble voice, (all the while chunks of half-chewed garlic are spewing from his mouth) "Get out of here, young woman!! This is no place for a lady!!" Murgatroyd dashes into the living room and decides to have a seat safely out of sight in the corner. There are loud splashing sounds and intermittent splashes of water coming from the bathroom. On the left side of the chair, she notices a tiny round wooden knob. The design etched into it is quite intriguing and she can't help reaching out to touch it. As soon as she does so, a muffled rumbling noise is heard and the fireplace rotates halfway, leaving a gaping hole that stretches infinitely into the darkness. Her eyes widen in surprise and she lets out a tiny gasp. Throwing caution to the wind, she vaults from the chair.

Glancing furtively over her shoulder, she grabs the flashlight off the coffee table and flies, quick as an oily monkey down a water slide into the thick dark tunnel to the Unknown. Crawling into the narrow brick hallway, she shines the light down the endless looking three foot tall passageway, but could see no more than ever-going bricks. Starting off her new and unpredictable adventure, she can't help but wonder how Hipocken was doing reviving Dunk. But not even her love for treating the ill could hold her back from finding the other end of the hidden hall. Creeping through the passageway was more difficult than she had anticipated, but curiosity was too strong a motivation for the uneasy crawl to stop her. After twenty minutes of wading through the dusty cobweb lined brick passage, she came to a split in the tunnel. Choosing the left, as it became tall enough for her to stand up that way, and continued at three feet the other way, she stepped into the bigger hall. Standing upright was exactly what she needed after crawling for twenty minutes. Inside the quite large underground room was old, rickety wooden furniture. The sight of what must have been some sort of hiding den amazes her to the point that she lets out a "WOW!" that echoes around back in the tiled bathroom where Dr. Frizz is, without any niggle, institutionalizing Rappingtin. He puts a patient's robe on Dunk and helps him outside into his van. Dunk keeps blathering on about his hair being unsightly and tries to comb it with anything his grasping fingers come in contact with (further solidifying in the doctor's mind that he is doing the right thing...). After calling for Murgatroyd and getting no reply, he jumps into the van in inappropriate haste. The good old doc shakily inserts the key into the ignition and turns it, and the van putters to a start. They rumble down the road at a blinding speed of 43 MPH and two and a half hours later come to the mental hospital where Dr. Frizwal has Dunk Rappingtin commited.

Rappingtin is brought into the main room of the insane asylum and introduced to none other than that dark and dastardly schemer himself... Hilbesenter! **the audience shrieks in insane horror and unspeakable torment at the very mention of his name as the da da da duuuuhhhmm music reaches its screeching crescendo** He is sitting at a little table, well apart from the rest of the slobbering, muttering nursing home type individuals. There is a chessboard in front of him with odd pieces scattered across its surface. He invites the inebriated Dunk to join him for a game... MEANWHILE in another place entirely, Murgatroyd wanders around the huge cavernous room listlessly. She begins to get bored with the entire idea and wishes she had never left the Professor. Suddenly, she hears a faint noise coming from the opposite side of the room. Carefully dodging the furniture, she strains everything she has to figure out where the noise is coming from. oops. Strained a little too hard. Though rather embarrassed and glad she is alone in the room, she continues searching. There!! In the corner was a tiny hole near the stone floor - barely large enough for a mouse to squeak through. Murgie flops down in the dust and tries to see what's on the other side. Unfortunately, her allergies get the best of her and she lets go a ricocheting "AAAAAAAACCHHHHHHHHOOOOO!! Everything grows deathly quiet. Traitorous sneeze! Now the occupants of The Other Side know of her existence!! The passageway she came through is instantly barred by a huge slab of rock!! There is no escape!

The ground begins to shake and an odd beeping like a moving truck backing up is heard as one of the walls opens to create a way to The Other Side where the ever-so-quiet noise was coming from. The beeping comes to a stop as the wall slides fully open to reveal the Other Room. It's dark, and now silent, and practically calls the naive and un-cautious girl by name. So she takes a brave step over into the new room. At the exact same time, Dr. Hipocken re-enters the home of Mr. Rappingtin, as he's come to his senses and realized he left poor Murgatroyd behind. Looking around, it takes a little more than a few seconds for him to notice the fireplace opened and the secret passageway exposed. He, with great difficulty and several odd pops and crunches, crouches down and enters the tiny hallway. It was very hard for him to crawl through it on his stomach, but he certainly could not leave Miss Potkettle alone in such a place. As the doctor slowly begins his long crawl, Dunk, after being waved to by Hilbesenter, asks one of the nurses why he's the only patient not wearing the issued hideous and uncomfortable pants and shirt. She answers in an unconfident voice, "We take all of his clothes and give him only the standard issued apparel, but every morning he comes out in something else, and the uniform can't be found in his room!" Realizing that this is not the every day usual patient, Rappingtin carefully walks to the chess table and sits down. The bright striped white shirt takes hold of Dunk's sight. Hilbesenter grabs the scuff of his striped shirt and says, "I got it real cheap," with a slight hint of a snicker in his voice. Dunk notices that a scrawny little skittish guy is peeking around a rather large man, and spying on him. He turns back to Hilbesenter and asks, "Who is that little freaky guy?" with a gesture to the miniscule spy. The reply creates new questions; "That's Loco!" shouts the over-dressed psycho. Dunk, being lunatistically minded at the time, continues the questions. "Loco? What's that mean?" A fitting question in a mental hospital. "Loco is his last name. Coo-Coo Loco, that's been his nickname for so long now no one knows his original name," elaborates Hilbesenter. Head swirling with the reasons how one could get such a name, Dunk is becoming irritated by this Loco. Almost as irritated as Miss Potkettle is intrigued by the missing voices in the room she's entering. Coming into the main part of the enormous multi-dimensional room, she starts to see vague, shadowy figures moving around. In abject terror, she screams at the top of her lungs. The screech is heard by the doctor, who is still fighting his way through the micro brick tunnel. The shriek's echoes almost synchronize with Dunk's yelp of fit at the scrawny Coo-Coo. With all self-control and sanity lost, Dunk stands up and tells Coo-Coo Loco to get away. But to his unawareness, Loco is quite into dramas and therefore plays along with Rappingtin who is not at all playing. Poor Dunk, in his delusional state, tells Coo-Coo to leave before getting shot. But this only excites Loco more, and he jumps out from behind the big fellow where he was hiding. Rappingtin, pushed too far, pulls his hands up and *Bang! Bang! Bang!* with his thumbs straight up and his first two fingers pointed right at Coo-Coo Loco and the other two fingers partially bent as to make a gun with his hands keeps yelling BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!, jerking his hands up alternately, so as to imitate guns backfiring. Loco, lost in his new character, slaps his hands sequentially upon his torso with every bang. Dunk jumps into the air in a roll just as Murgatroyd turns her screaming into chasing. Running around like a kid hyped up on sugar, she chases the elusive shadow-like figures around the room. But they allude her grasp time and time again. She chases one into a corner and reaches out to take hold of it, but it narrowly escapes. Dr. Hipocken, hearing the sounds of the chase, starts to move faster. Pushing and pulling himself as quickly as he can through the passageway, he slips on a puddle of slime and hits his face on the already too close brick floor, right as Rappingtin rolls back on his feet and lets out another round of drama bullets. *BANG! BANG!* he floats left to right, right to left, the whole time his hands jerking up and down crazily. *BANG! BANG!* Coo-Coo, still clutching every drama bullet hole, starts to sway and rock. As Loco hits the floor, Dr. Frizz pulls himself off of it and finally comes to the split in the narrow way. As the left way has been blocked off, he's forced to take the right. It wasn't much longer before he came to the entrance to the room Murgatroyd has become trapped in. He crawls in and stands up to find himself to be the only person in it.

The frazzled, aching Professor starts his search around the room and the effects of the tranquilizer dart instantly wear off as Dunk snaps out of his psychotic cowboy state and realizes something that has been nagging the back of his mind for the past ten minutes. The shirt Hilbesenter was wearing was one of HIS!! He'd bought it 2 weeks ago at a yard sale and put it in his top dresser drawer - or so he thought. "What in the world?!" Dunk and Murgatroyd utter simultaneously. Murgie has run **SMACK!** into Dr. Frizz and clutches him desperately in relief of fright. A high pitched screaming splits our eardrums and shatters glass in the Ward. "Professor, please - stop screaming. Your breath is about to wake the dead." (still being rather stout from the garlic.) Hipocken realizes he's the one emitting the girly sounding wail and snaps his mouth shut. "Terribly sorry, my dear. i've been so worried about you - where on earth are we?" His bleary eyes catch a glint of iridescent silver in Murgie's hands and says, "Good heavens! Is that a torch you have there?" She looks down in surprise. Carefully prying her fear-stiff white knuckled fingers open, she sheepishly clicks it back on. "Why ever were you running about in the darkness wailing like a banshee when you had a light the entire time?" Murgatroyd doesn't say a word. Then Frizwal remembers she once told him how she'd been riding her new bike down a steep hill and got up too much speed. Instead of using the brake, she dropped her mouth open (causing the sudden distasteful watery death of scores of teeny bugs) and gripped the handlebars, wheels turning faster and faster, unable to stop or jump off, totally paralyzed by fear, until finally crashing into the front door of her house, impaling her cat to the wall and becoming covered in flying fur. He just sighed and patted her blond head. "It's alright Ms. Potkettle." Just then, their meager light flickered, faltered, and went out altogether. (definitely not powered by the Bunny.) She grips his hand and bites her lip to keep from bawling like a spoiled baby. From across the expanse, a noise is heard - like the lights coming on in a football stadium. The unlikely pair are stunned and momentarily blinded as brilliant light stings their eyes and thick metal bars drop over their heads. When their poor eyes finally adjust with shooting pains and curses, they are standing inside a 6x6 cage in a wild madman's laboratory. A figure is gliding toward them, halting to press a neon pink button, then continuing on his purposeful stride. Back at the asylum, Hilbesenter's wrist watch begins beeping and he jumps up from the table. Dunk is watching however and gives chase as he runs down the hall toward the janitor's closet yelling, "That's MY shirt!!" The menacing boy advances.

A Ridiculous Story That You Will Not Be Able To Stop Reading

*disclaimer... i am here shamelessly admitting that i did not compose this story wholly alone. My arch enemy is responsible for all the bad spelling, grammar, and damage done to the real superhero. We switched off every other paragraph (some of which became ridiculously LONG as a result) - i began the first one. Certain elements have been kept the same for comic interest - others have been changed to protect the innocent. Beware. It is very stupid. Brilliant, but stupid.*

The dancing dappled sunlight slid smoothly over the hood of the fire-engine-red SAAB convertible as it sped down the country highway. It was exactly 5:37 on a Friday afternoon and the posh executive businessman was just settling in for a long weekend. His Ralph Lauren tie was loosened, his Versace shades were in place; the air conditioning vents blew the woodsy scent of his aftershave around the sleek leather interior of his car and out into the cloudless azure sky. He ran a perfectly manicured hand through his Pert Plus hair and over his carefully stubbled Gilette chin. His brilliantly shining shoes flashed recklessly from brake to accelerator in staccato beats. The calming strains of Mozart could be heard playing subtly in the background. He flicked his Gucci studded wrist to the side out of sheer habit to monitor the time, allowing his attention to be drawn from the road ahead for a split second. That proved to be his merciless downfall.

As he careened round the curve, the vehicle skidded down the dropping corner at a refractory speed of 87 miles per hour. The Michelin Symmetry tires leaving their prints behind, put a smell of burn in the air so strong it covered Brand Name Boy's Stetson cologne. Track Nine of Missa Longa skipped in the Bose radio as the Samsonite briefcase filled with Pilot ink pens, important notes, and a Motorola cell phone; flipped chaotically around the soon-to-be scrap metal speed ball of a horrific sight vehicle. Leaving the road and tearing the metal guard rail in two, the car flew through the air. After being slowed down by the branches of the giant native oak trees, it hit the side of the mountain and scraped itself all the way to the bottom of the fog-filled valley. As the bystanders called out to the smoking pile of crushed glass, leather, and metal... there was no reply. With flames slowly starting to build at the back of the convertible, the bystanders panic heightens and they rush to call Dunk Rappingtin, the eccentric rescue worker who would jump at any opportunity to risk his own life at the prospect of saving another.

The ringing of the onlooker's cellphone stops as the low and raspy voice of Dunk Rappingtin answers. "Just a minute - i'm all wet." He was just stepping out of the shower, as his last rescue attempt had made him quite dirty. He quickly dried his suave in a rather dorkish way hair and grabbed up the phone again. Unfortunately, he forgot to dry his hands and it slipped out of his soapy grasp... right into... the toilet!! OH NO!! He yells in dismay and jumps up and down in abject consternation. Man oh man oh man! He finally decides he must rescue his precious handset and suddenly wishes he HAD hired that maid to clean his house for him. Dunk, true to his name, reaches into the wide mouth of his avacado green toilet and **ZZAPPP!! BRAAAZZERR!! BZZZTTT!!** gets the shock of his life. Finally he is able to pull his hand out, dripping and smelling limey fresh (he had one of those neat little thingies that you drop in the tank to smell terrible every time you flush). He quickly runs to the sink, slipping on the tile floor and banging his chin on the trash can. Mr. Rappingtin, completely devoid of any pride at this moment, pulls himself gingerly up on the edge of the sink and catches sight of his hair in the mirror. It is sticking up all over and reminds him of Frasier holding on to a lightning ball at a museum. Not attractive. He reaches for his no name comb to fix the mess and has an incredibly bright thought (for someone named Dunk, that is). "I'LL ANSWER THE LIVING ROOM PHONE!!" He tucks a towel around his waist and explodes from the bathroom, reaching the purple tele in record time. He grabs it up (hands are dry by now) and at the exact same moment, the doorbell rings, startling him out of his wits.

The front windows have no curtains and any minute the person at the door could look around the corner and see him in this state - but what about the poetically life threatening adventure beckoning his daring devotion? In his moment of weakness, he held higher his dignity than the life of another; throwing himself around the corner and back into the bathroom, safe away from the embarrassment of being caught in a nerdful appearance. In the safety of his hiding place, he puts the phone back to his right ear. "What's the emergency?" he asks in near uncontrolled anticipation. But there is no answer; examining the situation he realizes that the cord of his phone wasn't long enough to reach around the corner and his humiliating dash to the bathroom had torn it right apart. In great haste, he snatches the sewer scented cell. But as he holds it to his head, leaving the horrific smell on his face, he finds that it too is of no use, as the water has surged it out. The realization that he has let the unknown victim of nature go unsaved in order to save himself from embarrassment and the thoughts of that faceless man falling victim to any imaginable fate put Dunk Rappingtin into a state of delusional slop of helpless stupor. Overcome by tormenting thoughts of failing and missing out on a great adventure, Dunk falls into a coma-like trance on the cold tile floor. Just as he hits the ground, the neighbor peeks around and, through the unwashed window, sees him slam down like a driving dummy. The peeping tom quickly calls for Dr. Frizwal Hipocken (all vowels short, except for the "a" which makes the -all- sound) who specializes in mentally ill patients.

Sissy iza Nerd

And she doesn't know how to use the internet. oh well. i suppose this family can't have more than 3 criminal masterminds. :D hehe

The Condensed Adventures of Wonder Erin

~~It was a dark and stormy night. Once again, Wonder Erin was resorting to her box of pristine vintage chocolates and assortment of Sudoku puzzles to while the time away. Not much has transpired since we left her in the clutches of that unspeakable evil - Johnny Boom. Besides her triumphant escape, that is. There was that. Her life had settled into the worn routine of endless tasteless meals prepared by her snippy French cook Ja'nelle, and the occasional call from Jecka for a game of poker. Not much out of the ordinary had occurred. Until that night. The black rotary dial telephone jittered to life as the blue neon light beneath it lit in anticipation of a conversation. Wonder Erin's carefully sharpened pencil slipped from her fingers and her grandmother's rosebud teacup clattered to a halt on the low mahogany coffee table next to her. She threw aside her puce crushed velvet lap quilt and sprang into action, her tiny dachshund Elroy yelping and baying in protest at his nap being so rudely disturbed. His puppy curses were muffled by the quilt falling carelessly over his head. Elroy snuffed his way out with a Harrruummmph! but his disdain went unnoticed as the Wonder laid her spindly hand on the receiver. She lifted it slowly to her ear, and, taking a deep cleansing breath...

ANNE HOLT

She just came in my store!! i watched her when i was a tiny person growing up in Nashville! i'm famous!!!! Sorry. i just couldn't hold my inexpressible glee any longer. This is the best day of my life. Aside from the day that it rained chocolate from heaven. That was a really good day too. :)

But wait... there's more!

And i think this is the right site... there are a lot more pictures and interesting stuff... www.myspace.com/guitarfingered1. Anyway. You should all get on My Space. It's way easier to navigate. ;)

Bored at work poetry :D

The Unrequited Past

my mind shifts on to other places
but the thoughts keep coming back
what if i have finally wasted
the best things i saved for last
holding on to those precious seconds
when i held you in my arms
losing sight of the train that wrecked us
tangled in your warmth
your misty eyes stared into mine
and at last i knew
this life would not be worth the time
i spent away from you
so i forged into the scars
you'd carved to keep me out
so quick forgetting those alarms
that checked my soul in doubt
just one touch was all it took
and i belonged to you
just one breath, one kiss, one look
my loneliness was through
and for awhile you felt my love
you let it fill your core
but then you turned your back on us
and like a fool i wanted more
i pushed my head into your chest
to feel your beating heart
but my wondering mind could not attest
and the shock drove us apart
for that night i found the truth
though i could not believe
the rhythmic pulse that coursed through you
had only ever been me!
had i imagined your whispered words?
had i entranced myself?
had i awakened but never stirred
and embraced your lifeless shell?
all those memories had vanished
like a shattered glass
i was feasting but still famished
on an unrequited past
and so with tears i lay to rest
a sorrow old as time
i fold your hands across your chest
and take back what was mine
for all the dreams my soul had dreamt
came as nightmares back to me
i realized with despair i'd spent
it all on what could never be.

Well this is interesting

i KNOW i posted a blog about being a Round Tuit Vendor. WHO took it? And WHY? i want names. Addresses. Phone numbers. i want a moat. With lava. i want big slobbering dogs. i want the guy who raised the dogs to be scared of them. Or i just want my post back. Most likely it's my own fault and you're gonna tell me some kinda crap like - i didn't post often enough so it was erased. WhatEVER. i don't care anymore.