Archive for November, 2007

yay food

I went out for tasty Ethiopian food with Happy Pappy and 1/2 of the dork-squad last night.

It was oh so yummy in my tummy!

I tried very hard to not eat the whole dish so that I could bring home left overs, but it was just too good.

Dork #1 (aka my brother) totally gets some kind of award for making me laugh so hard that yam came out my nose. I haven’t laughed like that in quite a while.

Knuckle Toes also gets an award today! it’s the ‘Least Politically Correct Sarcastic Bitch’ award.

(I would have made you a graffic, but I am also giving myself a ‘worst ms paint user ever’ award. feel free to check out my attempt…)

I meant to give her this ages ago but forgot about it until my spicy Yam and fermented pancake reminded me that her only thoughts about Cityville getting an Ethiopian restaurant were ‘I didn’t know they had food in Ethiopia’. (you can’t believe everything Bono tells you dearest!)

Several other’s have made similar jokes, but this combined with offhanded comments about killing child labourers for faulty clothing, and suggesting that mentally retarded people make cheep and effective menial job workers, makes her my favorite sarcastic bitch in the whole wide world.

At least I hope she’d being sarcastic when she says these things.


November 30, 2007 at 10:14 5 comments

this post is totally pointless

Sam Waterson on the Colbert report. . . I think I just creamed in my pants. . . I LOVE YOU JACK McCOY!!!!

I’ve been thinking more and more lately that there is something incredibly wrong with me. There is absolutely no reason for a relatively intelligent and outgoing young woman to get this excited about some old guy on TV. except that he’s the most awesome old guy on TV!

On another note I just noticed that Stephen Colbert’s ears are uneven, and it’s kinda freekin me out.

November 22, 2007 at 14:34 2 comments

it turns out my mother was right about TV

this comes as a surprise to me as, even at the age of 21, i still cling to the childish delusion that she is not cool enough to be right about anything.

but she was right about too much TV fucking a child up.

my brother and i started watching the x-files behind my mother’s back when i was ten. i think it started as a kind of chicken game to see who would get freaked out enough to cover their eyes first. . . it was always me. . . i spook too easily.

one way or another though, i got addicted, and abandoned captain planet and the smoggies for the x-files as my one hour of TV per week. . . i think of it as a kind of ‘coming of age’ in my life.

yet while i remember idolizing agent scully, and lusting after agent mulder (which may or may not have been the beginning of my being drawn to tall, dark, complex, older men) i remembered little to nothing about the actual story lines.

I’ve recently started watching all of the old episodes online during my study breaks, and all of my inexplicable fears have been suddenly explained.

for example. . .

my irrational nervousness about using the bathroom (eat your heart out Freud) can be traced to a number of x-files episodes, like, the giant half fluke worm half man monster that lives in the jersey sewer system and at one point escapes capture and crawls into a porta-potty to hide. or the episode where an ancient sea monster is washed up in a storm and lives in the pluming of a survivor shelter. or the poltergeist behind the shower curtain in another episode. . .

my embarrassing fear if Dumpsters is more than likely due to the episode where the wild women jumps out of a dumpter to attack a homeless man, or a much later episode where the garbage monster of suburbia kills people in the night for falling out of line.

cornfields, especially at night have always freaked me out, and while i can’t pinpoint this to any one episode, scenes taking place near or in cornfields never end happily

power outages, while i don’t believe in alien abduction because i think it’s dumb that aliens would travel all that way to put on a light show and stick things up our bums and noses, whenever the power goes out or the radio does something funky i always get these images in my head of brightly lit rooms and surgical implants.

the really sad part about all of this, is that it all still freaks the hell out of me even now that i know where i got it from, and that perhaps in spit of myself i am still hell bent on watching all these episodes that give me nightmares. . . this time without covering my eyes, or my brother nearby to use as a decoy in case of monster attack.

PS: i am not sure if whether to credit my parents or the x-files with the icy terror in my heart right now over certain little fascists in black suits who want to privatize everything. . . actually i am pretty sure that’s just common sense.

November 8, 2007 at 07:50 5 comments

What is a Pocket Buddha?

The pocket Buddha is a talisman, whether the pocket is in our mind or our jeans, the pocket Buddha is there to add a touch of Zen to our lives. He smiles from his dark penny and used tissue filled abode and reminds us simultaneously to go with the flow of our lives and to keep our goals, hopes and dreams ahead of us. At least one moment everyday, the satisfaction of a project completed, the taste of a meal we managed to make without burning, the extraordinary patience we somehow managed to show in the most frustrating of times, the pocket Buddha throws us a pocket-lint sized piece of nirvana, and for that I am very grateful.

Pocket Buddha On Twitter!|Start Petition

Lilypie Breastfeeding tickers

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 3 other followers

You can find more of me at:

CONNECTED MOM Natural Baby Pros Visit Natural Parents Network

I received the:

Art by Erika Hastings at Proud member of Mom Blog Network <a href="" target="_blank"CONNECTED MOM

Have you heard about…?

SponsoredTweets referral badge Search & Win


This website is written and maintained for entertainment purposes only. Any advice or opinions expressed here are not intended to be taken in the stead of professional advice, and do not represent the opinions of Pocket.Buddha's employers, family, or friends unless otherwise noted.