Cloner Brothers.

Does it unnerve anyone else to know that, despite decades of heavily-funded scientific research by the world's top geneticists, the fucking Wayans brothers were the first dudes to be able to hammer out the fine details of human cloning?

~sarah p.

p.s. I went on a pretty major (think I might be diabetic, one last hurrah before I drag my dizzy ass to a doctor) Halloween candy binge, all while watching the Problem Child Tantrum Pack (Problem Childs 1 and 2, in one convenient DVD), and I'm still not sure which one of the two actions should make me feel guiltier. On one hand, I'm not feeling well and could cause more damage to my health with a heavy dose of sugar right now, but on the other hand, I sat through two Gilbert Gottfried movies in a single afternoon... Both seem kinda shameful at this point.

Dogs In Costumes: "Yo! It's Halloween!" Costume Ideas

~sarah p.

p.s. After last year's costume incident, I think I will be playing it safe in a skeleton costume. I found one for an eight-year-old boy that fits me very, very well (if not a little comically snug), and the bones glow in the fucking dark. I'm going to be super spooky, and also try not to piss anyone off this year.

Jerky.

I thought I might've bought dog jerky in the pet aisle by accident, but I've checked the package twice now and nope... Just terrible jerky.

~sarah p.

p.s. If I could go to sleep and wake up anywhere in the world, at any point in history, I would wake up here for sure:

True fact! This is my second favorite song of all time (the first, of course, being Rockwell's 'Somebody's Watching Me'), and whenever I can't get motivated to have a good time, I will play it on repeat until I leave the house in hopes of hearing it somewhere that is not my bathroom... There is always a chance, no matter how small.

Thankful.

The turkey has been picked-over, I've taken my traditional post-meal three-hour nap on the couch, and it's time to reflect over the last year, and give thanks for all of the things that I am so grateful to have. Plus, it's a good distraction from the whole "raping and pillaging the Native Americans" part of the holiday. Here's my list for 2011:

I am thankful for my talents in putting on liquid eyeliner.

I am thankful for PBS, particularly Antiques Roadshow and Nature (but only the episodes where all animals involved stay alive through the duration of the program).

I am thankful for Fresca (also, gin mixes with Fresca very, very well for some reason).

I am thankful for my patience during pants-shopping. I tried on probably thirty pairs yesterday, and walked away with two. I'm also thankful that I am able to overlook my regular clothing overspending on my bank statements.

I am thankful for the delightful Jeffrey Steingarten, who is the sole reason that Iron Chef America is a watchable show.

I am thankful for mini-meatballs, apple pancakes, and butter pecan ice cream. Not together.

I am thankful for my wonderful little cat, who just puked up a bunch of grass all over the hardwood floor.

I am thankful for the fifteen perfect red lipsticks I own... It takes your look from "unkempt hungover mess" to "arty french intellectual" in no time flat!

I am thankful for the ten pounds I just gained so that I'll be warm walking to work when the temperature hits the -30C mark. No amount of goose feathers could ever offer as much protection from the elements as a hefty amount of donut-and-Slurpee weight.

I am thankful that I have a partner who does not seem to question (or care) that I regularly lock myself in the bathroom for hours on end to listen to disco, paint my face, and curl my hair.

I am thankful I have a family that thinks that it's funny to feed me scotch and Drambuie until I black out (hence the three-hour nap part of my day)...

I am, most of all, thankful that I start work at 10AM, so that I feel like I am sleeping in every single day. I am a much better person for this reason alone!

What are you guys thankful for? New episodes of South Park? Chicken pot pie? Non-surly cab drivers? Oh, there is so many wonderful things in the world!

~sarah p.

p.s. Also, I'm obviously super thankful for Prince. And loose-fitting lounge pants. And liquid foundation. And gummi worms- can't forget those guys.

Old Habits Die Hard.

I'm going to admit, the closer I get to thirty, the more I catch myself mildly freaking the fuck out. I think it has something (everything) to do with the fact that every single person over thirty finds out that I'm twenty-nine-and-nine-months old, and looks at me like I'm on my way to my own funeral. They look sad and disgusted, and tell me that everything goes downhill from here... "Good luck", they say.
Like I'm going to need it.
Listen here, geezers. I've got a pattern of keeping it real since the day I was born. I am essentially the same person I was thirty years ago- I even have the same habits! I'm still the same ol' G, and if you need more proof, here's the evidence:
I've been addicted to gossip since the day I was born. We were probably talking shit about Elmo or Grover here.


For a special treat, my parents would give us candy. It wasn't so much a special treat for us, but rather for them. It meant that our mouths were shut for a few minutes, and the adults could enjoy the sweet release of a silent house... You're welcome, mom and dad.
To this day, I still can't say no to a box of Rainbow Nerds. I'm not made of stone over here.

I still make strange noises whenever I see strange animals on the sidewalk, even if I am entirely alone. I love animals! Sometimes it borders on creepy!


From day one, and for the rest of my life, I promise I will always have a penchant for dressing for the occasion... Even when I was two, and the occasion was "underpants day", I've got the perfect thing to wear. No problem.

I loved UV rays then, and I love UV rays now. I was probably wearing negative thirty-five SPF in this photo. I have since learned that the true secret to the perfect tan was something I was already using back then, without a clue to it's benefit: baby oil... No wonder I was such a babe.

Thanks to my genetics, along with a heavy Diet Coke habit from the age of three, I did not ever reach the five-foot mark on the height chart in our hallway. Thanks, aspartame. No, I'm not being sarcastic. I mean it... Thanks for the years of deliciousness that I enjoy on an almost-daily basis. Your lack of calories makes me feel falsely entitled to include more actual sugar into my diet, and if that means using a step-stool the rest of my life and growing a gigantic tumor, so be it.

Check me out here. This photo was taken at the wedding of Paul Hackman, deceased guitarist for Helix. I guess that makes me Canadian metal royalty or something... And you know what? I still know how to rock a party with ease.


See? I'm not worried about getting older. I'm mostly just worried about winter coming soon. And poisonous spiders. And people yelling at me. And running out of Fruit Stripe Gum... My supply is getting low, you guys.

~sarah p.

p.s. Bonus Parsons family photo!
My dad's power-mullet and argyle sweater, my mom's unintentional hipster glasses, our upset cat, my sister's fixation on our homosexual dog, and me, holding it all together (while wearing lace tights). This was the only photo I could find of us all together (no wonder my parents got d-i-v-o-r-c-e-d?), and I think it was part of a school project that I didn't want to do.
These people made me who I am, and I love these A-holes like crazy, no matter how old I get.