I think we have a mortgage. Stay tuned!!

Went to my first Sharks game. Going as literally one of 3 Blue Jackets fans didn't make the experience as magical as it could have been. When the Blue Jackets (note: I'm steadfastly resisting the urge to shorten that to BJ) scored their lone goal I was one of three fans cheering. The man next to me said 'they have fans?' I turned to him with my Columbus Blue Jackets sweatshirt pointed right at him and said yes.

Our home financing woes continue. I'm so frustrated I can't even speak of it right now except to say "blech!"

George W. Bush is better known as Monkey Boy. Anyone up for a campaign of sending bananas to the White House for him? I take some small consolation in knowing that he'll only be in for 4 years.

In deference to my frequent mentions of that Nice Man, Amy directed me to That Nice Man's website.

Who's hot or not on TV is kinda stupid yet captivating.

Since this morning's discovery of the pornolizer my office has grown addicted to converting every site we can think of into porno speak. A co-worker turned me on to the Dialectizer which converts almost anything into redneck, elmer fudd, jive and more. Try it, you must.

While I'm pretty well guaranteed to never look in the mirror and see my mother (although once, I swear my birthmother was staring back at me. That was eerie shit since I didn't expect it.) once in a while I'll say things that make me stop and say, shit, you can't escape your upbringing, I've become my mother. As far as I can tell, there's no way to stop this other than by catching myself in the act and not saying whatever mom-ism I was about to utter.

I met a person today who genuinely scared me. I'm used to people without social skills--it's largely impossible to work in the computer/Internet world without running into folks who were clearly born to code in a little pen without much human contact. Those people I understand and appreciate their brilliance while expecting next to nothing from them socially. But this person is not only socially inept but asks probing questions that make me loathe to give out any details, lest they later be used as evidence for the restraining order.

This is a rare moment for me, I'm out of things to say about this person, I dont' have a witty comebacks for the comments and questions that scare me.

Ahh yes, but LizSpeaks pornolized into English makes a whole lot more sense. Fistfucks--100% Web "Dripper Dick" Color-Safe at all Wanks

I'm not quite sure what this all means, but here's the pornolized version of my site. Lizspeaks--100% Web "Ass-stitcher" Color-Knulle at all Slikkes

The ad campaign for Butch Dog Food is absolutely hysterical and would never fly here in the conservative US. Link courtesy of LaLa

Can you tell things are slow at work? I've been reading through the Blogger Directory and am noticing that almost all of the blogs I randomly choose to read are by students. Not only that, the arrival of blogspot lends a certain geocities air to the designs.

This is not to say that these fellow blogging enthusiasts are any more or less a blogger than any of the rest of us, but rather that there's an accessability to blogging that wasn't there before. Which is a good thing because on some level, we all have something to say.

Looking for a crazy amount of people's phone numbers? My Little Black Book has them all.

So far, the winner of my referrer log roulette:Google search for Liz has big boobies.

We switched to a new network at work this week and of course it hasn't gone smoothly so I've been left with a couple of days of downtime. I figured, hey, why not troll my referrer logs and imagine my pleasant surprise when I discovered that Jenlyn and Kate think I'm cool enough to read often. Thanks, folks, and shalom!

Here's something really funny: listening to a man with a severe lisp saying 'catch page' over and over again.

Today we talked to mortgage broker number 3. It's starting to feel like Lou Bega's Mambo No. 5 (which, by the way, he claims that the 5 stands for the 5 continents on the earth. Shh, don't anyone tell him that there are now 7, the last two having been added since he recorded the song). I just want it all to be over with, but with the end result of someone paying me money every month in exchange for owning a home.

Buying a house has suddenly gone from a far-off dream to reality. That reality means a myriad of expenses and decisions I've never had to make, including how the hell do I buy carpet?

What's your weirdest sexual experience? makes me feel so lame. All that time I spent in high school and college looking for places to have sex wore me out. No, I wasn't having *that* much sex, but the effort required to find a place when I wanted to was a pain in the ass. Now that I'm a grownup, I relish in only having sex in my bedroom or if I'm feeling really extra wacky, the living room.

It sounds so damn novel to make love outside, in an elevator, on a bus, wherever. But really, who wants to be walked in on (maybe you, but not me!) or have brambles in your cooter?

This said, I'll be adding the wackiest sexual experience to my list of daily reads.

Librarian tales of woe sound oddly like Amy's former life in the public library, where a cast of homeless men would enjoy the African-American teen chat rooms, where a middle-aged man was caught downloading pictures of men in pantyhose more than once and a mentally impaired man would call each Tuesday night unfailingly to 'order some CDs.'

Here's to all the librarians, sexy or not, wearers of buns or not, who put up with the public at large while working towards the greater goal of making sure everyone has access to any information that they want or need. Thanks Carol for this marvelous link.

What a weekend. My Saturday started with hockey, where we played a game for most of the class period. During that time, I slammed a guy against the boards (and took a stick in the groin as a reward), took another guy out and had a puck bounce off my foot.

Later that day, we had to go to a different mortgage broker since we didn't know until Friday that our original mortgage people were gouging us not only with insanely high interest rates but with a pre-payment penalty that was complete bullshit. This morning, my original person called and got extremely pissy that we were shopping around. I said I hadn't anticipated needing to do that but hey I'm not going to blindly accept tens of thousands of dollars in additional fees. Sorry, I may be new at this but I can still add.

Occassionaly, I play with a small group of musicians in nursing homes as a volunteer. I do this because it's kinda fun and it's worthwhile to see the residents smile or at least do something different with their afternoons. Mostly, we play hit songs of the 30's and 40's but this week we fudged our way through some Christmas tunes, including the perennial favorite, I'll be home for Christmas. A man who attends our 'concerts' regularly while visiting his wife got up and stormed out of the room during that tune. On his way out, he yelled at our singer Tess, who is herself 84 years old, how dare we play that when no one will be home for Christmas.

Should we have thought of that beforehand? Anticipated his frustration? Were we wrong or inconsiderate to play that song or did that man just over-react? I honestly don't know.

Andrea said 'welcome to America, where my issues are your issues.'