The Inmates Run the Asylum

I think there should be a bonus part to online job applications.

Did you complete this job application while two people were talking to you, a cat demanded some attention, and you were singing oldies along with the radio? Y/N

Because that's where my true multitasking power lies.

I've been on Facebook for several months now and somehow have acquired over a 100 friends. I didn't realize that many people knew and/or liked me, but there you have it. I admit, a couple of the people I'm friends with there are total strangers. I have no connection to them whatsoever other than we play the same game and they wanted to add to their mafia/vampire clan. I figured "why not", and so far those people have turned out to be pretty cool.

Today, I got a friend request in my email from a guy. I didn't recognize the name as anyone I knew, but he had the same last name as my cousin's husband, so I thought he might be one of her in-laws.

And then I saw his picture.

He's not one of my cousin's in-laws. At least he'd better not be because...no. I'm thinking that since he has no friends in common with me or my cousin, he's not.

But we'll get back to the friends in a minute. First, his profile picture.

In it, he is wearing a long wifebeater and laying in a bathtub full of water and judging by the way the wifebeater is sticking to him, it's a safe bet that he's not wearing pants.

After my initial reaction of "That's not appropriate and the angle makes you look like you have boobs, good sir", I checked his friends. All women, most of them with profile pictures that highlight their cleavage.

Now, this confuses me because my profile picture doesn't feature my cleavage. In fact, I'm wearing my Vincent Price baseball tee, which is only considered sexy by those who love Vincent Price and that's only because of the Vincent Price factor. So, clearly, it's not the picture that could have attracted this guy.

My only guess is my recent status message lamented about the fact that "An Active Sleeper" had been rejected, it was the third rejection in a week, and I'd really like the Universe to throw me a bone. It's possible that he misconstrued what I meant by the word "bone" and thought that he had what I was wanting.

I guess I'm going to have to start wording things in such a way that says that I am not easy, desperate, or involved in the porn business in any way.

And until now my biggest worry had been unintentionally offending my uber-religious ex-classmates from high school. Go figure.

Me: They're dropping like flies today.
Carrie: Who?
Me: First Ted Kennedy, now Dominick Dunne.
Dad: And one at Weldon Springs.
Me: One at Weldon Springs?
Dad: Suicide by drowning.
Me: At Weldon Springs? I bet the algae got him.
Dad: That's been taken into consideration. It's in the report.

I have spent the whole day watching Land of the Lost on Sci-Fi. Whole day. I plan to post this, check Facebook, and go back to it.

Tonight, I will dream of Sleestaks, Chaka, Big Alice, bad special effects, overacting, and questionable 70's hair.

Tomorrow, I will be jonesing for the cheesy badness.

I really will.

I have no shame.

Carrie and I were entertaining ourselves watching the neighbor's cat Loki hang out on our front porch and Spot bitch out his presence from the window when something caught my eye.

At first I thought it was a hawk. It roosted in a tree across the street with four other huge birds. Carrie was sure they were hawks. "Get Pete inside! Tell Loki to go home! Those birds will get them!"

I didn't do that because I'm lousy at following instructions. Instead, I got my camera and went outside to try to take some pictures. I snapped a few shots, warned the doves on the wire above me not to take a crap on my head, talked to Loki, and started having my doubts about them being hawks. There were too many of them and they were too dark in color.

Carrie came out and we discussed it. Crows were suggested. So were vultures. Finally, we decided what these huge birds were: Doom Birds. Five huge black birds gathered in a tree had to be a sign of doom or, at the very least, some sort of birdie gang meeting.

I showed the pictures to Dad when he got home and he said they were crows.

But, I bet they all had little leather jackets and switchblades and I just know they were up to no good.

The casting call for Stargate: Universe has gone out (do I have to fucking tell you this link holds spoilers?).

All I can say is...there better be crack with this show or I'm gonna have to find something else to do on Friday night. Like date. 'Cause this casting call just hits me as shit.

Of course, I don't know how things work; this could just be a very crude generalization. Things could change I'm sure.

But, I've got to know...why must all the girls be pretty? One is described as beautiful and the other is described as sexy. Seriously, are there no fat scientists? Or chubby ones? (Obviously, I'm excluding the males here). What about ones that look good after a few drinks? Or ones that won't look good even after alcohol poisoning?

All the skinny, pretty people are boring me. There needs to be more people on TV who are just so-so or sometimes they're cute and sometimes they're not or downright ugly. C'mon. Make interesting.

But, then again, I guess I should be happy that there are no fat girls in space. Nobody wants to see another fat girl stereotype. Even explosions and gun fights don't make that better.