My favorite feeling.

You know when you are going to eat something, and you get this special little tingle in the pit of your stomach, because you know it's going to taste so amazingly good?

That's my favorite feeling in the world.

Well, that and being drunk. I like that, too.

The Top 10 Things I would do if I won the Lottery:

10. Move Jay-Z into my guest house (and embroider the lyrics to 'My Name is Hov' on his bedspread).
9. Cross-breed some stuff. If you bred a panther with a zebra, what would it eat? Nobody knows (yet).
8. Grills for all (I will have Paul Wall on speed dial).
7. I would not carry a Gold Visa, or a Platinum Visa, or even the elusive Black Visa. No, my friends, I would carry a Neon Pink Visa, because I tell Visa what to do from now on.
6. Pay someone to bulldoze Chad Kroeger's house when he's out of town (seriously, you guys, I saw him on Cribs, and there is no way in hell that I can let that guy have a better pool than me).
5. Private jet, where all of the staff are sassy like Snoop Dogg in Soul Plane (yes, I really did watch Soul Plane).
4. Gold-plate my world.
3. All moldable food served to me must be shaped into something that kind-of looks like me (doesn't have to be exact).
2. Restraining orders against the clowns of the world. All of them. You know what? While I'm at it, Unless your name is Colin Carrabetta, then I don't want any magicians around me either. They make me kinda nervous.
1. Spread love, it's the Brooklyn way.



p.s If you have never gotten a massage from Amy, then you've never lived.

Words of Advice- Part 1

Question:

If you were going to get a pet, what is the best pet to own?

Answer:

Regardless of any thoughts you've ever had on the subject, the correct answer is a cat.



Why?



That's why. See? Adorable.

My sister used to come home late at night and talk about how cats have these cute little arms. I used to laugh about it, because she was always baked out of her mind when she'd say it, but she was 100% right.

p.s. look at Bella, Amy's cat (the bottom one). She's been on a diet, and she looks great!

Louise and Bella thank you in advance for thinking they are nice.

Awww...

You guys are too nice to me. Seriously.
I don't mean to get all stupid on you guys, but it's really nice to know that some of you love me as much as you do. Thanks.

In other news, the Ohmega Watts/DFE show last night was pretty amazing. Thanks to all that made it happen.

p.s. RIP Zoe. 14 years of dog-tacular goodness.

My bad.

I'm a person that likes to learn from my mistakes. So when I don't know what I did to make something go so terribly wrong, it eats me up inside.
Just understand that my heart was in the right place. Please.

The magic is alive and well on this long weekend.

Can you feel it?
Me too.


p.s. Trouble is a-brewin'....and not in the normal way, either (in the ultra-amazing super-awesome way). You guys know what I'm talking about.

Slow on the uptake.

I've been lazy this week, you guys.... Really lazy. Sorry 'bout that.
Anyhow, here's the photos from last weekend, when Crystal, Allison, Breanne, Jessica, and I went to the Drum:


Gin felt so right that night (and so wrong the next morning).

Breanne and Jessica enjoying beverages.

Girrrrrlllsss.
At about midnight, the love came out.

Jessica took over as conductor of the evening at one point.

Allison and I keeping the dream alive, one awkward smile at a time.


p.s. I've been seeing way too many jean shorts for comfort this week. I know it's hot and all, and seriously, I'll love you guys no matter what you wear, but wow, that's a lot of jean shorts.

Here you go, guys:

If you spend your Fridays at work staring at a screen, reading the paper, and makin' salads (like me), here's a little 12-minute distaction....

Dave Chapelle on Conan

***This just in.... Monkeys can get crunk too.

Have a good weekend, friends.

....For those still thinking about St Patricks Day:

A million thanks to Crystal for sending me this gem.

Tonight I made:

This shirt (because I decided that I don't really care for most plain shirts anymore), and the world's best burger. I was going to write the greatest novel of all time, but I didn't feel like it.

What's up for tomorrow afternoon, when I finish work? I might build a new city, or make something big appear out of the icebergs in the Arctic, like David Copperfield (but way more fun, and with better outfits).

Actually, I'll probably just BBQ again, and then make some bootleg Kool Keith t-shirts.

p.s. Marco's show is pretty incredible tonight... You should be listening.

BBQ

I have one.... Jealous?

(this post is the first in a series of why you guys should come and visit me).

The 100% true story about how the California Raisins and I saved Christmas:

It was the summer of 2001, and I had just made a bold move to Victoria. I would be starting up in school the following Autumn, but figured it would be a good idea to move early to get a good feel for the city. Here's the kicker: I didn't know anyone. I was bored to tears day in and day out until one day, when I went to pick up a box of raisins at the store. There was two kinds of raisins: regular, which at $0.99 a box was quite a deal, or California, which were retailing for $53.00 a box. Despite the hefty price, the California raisins had a pretty box, so I paid the $53.00, and took the raisins home.

The box sat up in the cupboard for about a week before I actually got around to opening it. I was making some banana bread, and thought that the raisins would be a nice addition. I tore open the top of the box, and something hit me in the face. Hard.
Along with all of the non-alive raisins in the box, there was some that were actually living, and they were pissed. I guess I left them in the box too long, but what was I supposed to do? I can't spend my entire life centered around a bunch of dried grapes, can I? Man.

Despite our rocky start, it turned out that the raisins were actually pretty decent guys, they just weren't fans of being held captive in a box for a week. Let me tell you, these guys were party animals. They invited me to some of the best parties I'd ever been to, like the time that Urkel had a party in the woods, and He-Man went swimming naked in the ocean.

Anyway, so we're at this party this one day (I think it was thrown by Inspector Gadget, if I'm not mistaken), and Santa Claus is there. You know when someone gets so wasted that all they can do is smile, hug, and point at you? Santa was beyond that point. He was just laying on the floor, breathing audibly and making noises like an injured panther. I keep checking on him, because, at that time, I was the "responsible one" out of everyone in the crew. I even had a shirt that said "responsible one", and every time I went to parties, people would look at the shirt and say "yep, you sure are".

So I keep checking on him, and all of a sudden, the panther noises stop. The loud breathing stops. Oh no.
The California Raisins and I spring into action. The raisins crawl down his throat, and find six hot dogs and half of a cowboy hat in his airways. What do we do? Of course, I jump on Santa's chest, and dislodge the hat, the hot dogs, and the raisins.

When Santa sobered up, he thanked us by giving us the key to the North Pole, which I lost down a well the following weekend at Baby Jessica's 15th anniversary "Out of the Well and Still Crazy as Hell" party.

Today's 100% true story was brought to you by crippling boredom.

Can I get serious for a second?
Guys, this is the third day in a row that I haven't had any patients at the clinic. I have read three newspapers, three magazines, and have been to literally every page on the internet. The doctor is back tomorrow, so you won't have to read any more true stories until the next time she goes away. Promise.

Had a great weekend...

....but something was missing. Yes, I forgot my camera both Friday and Saturday (and let me tell you, there was about a million possibly-awesome photo opportunities).

p.s. Soooo jazzed about the Ohmega Watts show, but who will be amazing enough to come with me? Mark your calendars (05/22/2006), and step into the realm of awesome.

If you guys buy me one thing this year:

http://www.hasbro.com/default.cfm?page=browse&product_id=17119

Fact of the matter is, I don't even actually want the damn chimp. I just like the way it sounds.

"Hello. My name is Sarah, and this is my cuddle chimp, Lloyd Turner (I'm assuming my cuddle chimp would be named Lloyd Turner)".

"Yes, I would love to go to the movies with you, Jay-Z, but I have to go home and check on my cuddle chimp first".

"My cuddle chimp is way better than any chimp you've ever owned. What's that? You've never owned a chimp? Get with the program".

See what I'm talking about?


In other news, this weekend should be a good one. Finally, the cool kids are getting with the Broken City program, and let me tell you, it feels good (because if you've never been, Marco throws it down. Seriously.)

Love you guys.

Told you I was seeing Soucy.

See?