For you, the dress code is casual.

Friday, June 10, 2005

ADHD Chronicles: 06/10/05

The first ADHD Chronicles were here: Click this.

Do you ever ponder the weirdness of being cold from the inside out after you’ve eaten too much ice cream too quickly? I have. It’s weird.

How come anytime someone calls during a show that’s got me fascinated, and they yammer on, and I finally get them off the phone, it always cuts immediately to a commercial? Fuck you, cosmos.

My favourite figurines as a kid were Strawberry Shortcake people and also smurfs. My friend and I, we’d use books to build these little villages that the smurfs lived in. There was always some heated love affair between Hefty and Smurfette, and we’d always interrupt it with, say, Dopey or Doc, maybe Sleepy or Brainy. But Hefty would always get the shaft. We were reactionaries even then.

I’ve been arrested, but was never charged. It was a silly thing. A secret silly thing, but nonetheless. It adds to my mystique though. “Ooh, she’s mysterious,” is what you’re all thinking. I know it. I love it when a plan comes together.

How come I’m always able to find the channel where Lost airs?

If I was able to meet Yoda in real life and he was still an 800-year-old Jedi Master, and I got to ask him to do a trick for me, I’d take him down to the Granville Island marina and get him to raise a boat out of the water and put it on the back of a 1-ton pickup truck. I’d hide behind a building and take pictures of the confused people, smoking a joint with Yoda, just like this. Use the bong, Luke.


If you’re the sort of person who likes to eat a late dinner and watch the telly, here’s a tip for C.S.I.-- never eat until about 20 minutes in. That way, you get to miss eating during the autopsy on the D.U.N.S. (“dead upstairs neighbour syndrome”) corpse already well into the advanced stages of putrefaction.

I keep hoping someone will launch a lawsuit against makers of so-called “hot sauces” because dudes, they’re not hot sauces. They’re room-temperature sauces that are very, very spicy. Talk about misrepresentation.

Every time I see an outhouse, I wish I was a guy.

Oh, my God. Two of the ugliest bugs I have ever seen are mating on the windowsill. This is weird. I'd take a picture, but my camera's full.

The coolest website you’ve never seen is (The hyperlink doesn't want to work. Mmf.) I guess the world is full of recovering Catholics or something. This is a site where people mail a postcard with a certain secret or phrase on it, anonymously, to the website’s managers, who then post the image of your postcard. It’s awesome. A goldmine of inspiration, if you take a moment to imagine the world beyond these few chosen words these anonymous souls find so important to share with us.

I like many kind of men. Shorter ones, taller ones, slimmer ones, bigger ones. It's like one giant buffet of goodness, really. I prefer husky men, though. Dark hair, nice smiles, inviting brown eyes. I’d say brown eyes are my favourite, even though I have green eyes myself (but I like mine, and here they are). I’ve been doing the online hunting for men, and it’s been entertaining, with more bad dates than good. I had a good date recently, but then I lost my interest in him, but I’m not sure he’s figured it out yet. Next week I have a date with a 6', 230lb Italian-Canadian hockey player. This could be fun. ;)

my eyes b&w