Apathetic Appendix?

I think today I'll review Pan's Labyrinth.

Mr. Morgan purchased it and argued with me for a long while that we'd have to read it (subtitles). He still insists the box says nothing of this. I only knew because the Grandmaster and Dutchess told me.

Both were met with disdain.

Not to fuck about, it is a super good movie but dark. I won't say I elated in the ending but at least it wasn't predictable to make everyone happy. Shit doesn't work that way sometimes.

It's worth a watch. Remember that I am blind in one eye so I watched it on my pc... with it's glorious giant monitor two inches from my face, the subtitle thing isn't so awful.

My mom in law had a birthday today YEA, and my Prada was recently operated on to remove something. Further proof we are being poisoned. Mr. Morgan has no clue what happened and it is a bit frustrating to me, but expected. He says appendix, but faltered to gallbladder. I stared blankly. Quite a difference, and MORE so quite the difference to a hypochondriac who knows the workings on damn near every fucking item in our bodies. He said she's got something, they took it, all is ok. I'm Team Not Ok. I want anything removed jarred in the good sauce for preservation. You don't just go takin'!

Cheers to a fast recovery though, for..... whatever she lost?

-DM

One percent chance of a burn my ass.

I tanned and stuff.

Ever wonder how ugly you can get? I found out today. No one bothered to tell me "hey psst... DM, you are looking a little toe fucking up."

No it was all robes, lotions, smiles and lets get you cancered up pronto. I took a 7 minute tanning tour in some german machine, and while I didn't say it.... aren't germans super white? When did they ride the rainbow to tanning machine technology?

Right so after that I was ushered to a spray thing that was even making my neice cry. I was wanting a smoke and the kid showing direct hatred towards the device gave me pause because kids can be all clever like that sometimes. They don't know WHY, but they know the fucking thing is missing either rhyme, reason, or both.

I moved ahead to a spray tan. It wasn't enough to boil my skin, no, we required dye and poison. They make you use a nose plug, which was later found in the hallway by Prada and when asked if mine and I picked it up as though I'd expelled an accidental tampon and shuffled it into a pocket.

Nothing says ugly like this.


I tried.... no dice. Shit up your nose and a hair garb doesn't make for sexy.

Mr. Morgan went next. He looks like he lost a bet by his facial expression.


I left happy enough. Gracious and thankful for the freebie genecide. As the day went on and the itch got worse, I remembered Prada telling me "oh the red is just the blood rising to the surface of your skin" I thought, cool.

Day went on more and I started to think, "blood my ass! I'm on fucking fire! She set me on fire and smiled, they ALL smiled and asked how I liked my torching!"

So this is me tonight. Nothing terribly out of the ordinary, except that I have a color that is named on a box of crayons.

I've been getting memos all night from various portions of my body asking me why, my motives, was there a cash settlement involved? A dare? They want answers.

I should have taken out my belly (whatever... stud, ring?) but I never fuck with it, so it got some special color just for FUN!

While very uncomfortable tonight, I am appreciative to Prads and Mr. Prads, and Wee Prads, thank you for trying to kill us in a kind and humane manor. Top notch hut, this white girl simply can never go tan. But hey ya know, I'll be back begging a freebie in a week or two?

-DM

Singing in the subway....

I wasn't clear! I asked for ideas for blogs entries to feed your bellies when I'm on vacation next month. I'd already written up my blog for it, so now you all have to re-post your picks (and Shan... lol there was a threat in your name if I didn't see Shania). Just post ideas for me so you can - if so inclined - still get a daily DM while we are off doing whatever it is we are doing. I still have not been told but have been dropping hints like "should I buy a summer dress, or pack more for cooler temperatures?" I am told nothing.

Meanwhile .... IT'S MEMORIAL DAY!!!!

I bought a new suit .... I think for the sake of thinking someone else might get it. The drawers are a wee sloppy but never fear, DM owns a sewing machine that on occassion performs as the manual swears it should. Way cute though huh?

The Morgans are ready to get our pool on. We are going to brave Prada's tanning salon on Sunday, and if she doesn't hate me yet, she will by the time I'm done frowning and asking all sorts of questions that don't matter because I have commited to doing it even if she guaranteed a chemotherapy coupon afterwards.

Jokes aside, I'm excited, even if I expect to look a fool. I asked how men can spray tan, totally envisioning the contorted positions needed to get a fully coated peen and sack. Chocolate on top and vanilla underbelly! Sounds like a cookie, mm!

Instant questions that occur to me are .

... how long does it last?
... If Mr. Morgan spray tans, will I get sick if I lick his..... elbow?
... is there some voyeur substation to watch me naked and spinning in the skin dye shaking out a mean Macarena?
... if I scream, will someone come?


I have some interesting medical updates, but not sure when I will post them. Gathering things like a squirrel for the vaca time, and likely under the false impression anyone can't go a week without my babble. (ps they rented the Jeff house yesterday... what EVER will move in this time?)

Until next time....

-DM

Feed me Seymour!

I'll be on vacation in a few weeks, no idea where if anywhere, but since housing for the muppets has been procured I suspect I will be flying out of this birdcage. My posts my be a bit more sparce because vacation is contingent on my office convention ending with me employed, and also because I am trying to stockpile some stuff to keep my daily readers..... both of you?...... busy.

I have a bit done so far, but if anyone has input, questions for me.... childhood shit, adulthood shit, totally off the wall and uncalled for shit? I'll take it. I love a good Q&A.

So hit my comments please with your inquiries. Off to work on other junk. Don't forget to see Mentos below.

-DM

Mentos!

This got me laughing tonight. I prefer not to laugh alone. ALL mentos commercials should go like this. Need sound. Off to giggle.



-DM

Just your run of the mill arsonist...

I burst from the bed this morning humming "it's friiiiday, the gamble friday, fun day, best day, all for me...." that bad sort of singing that little kids do while bopping along because it makes perfectly good sense and sound to them.

Went to work, fired up my normal list of things to engage, in their normal engagable order, sat for three minutes and wondered when I'd have a smoke break.

At about the five minute mark, it seemed overdue.

When I came back inside I smelled something, but as my office dates back to Bedrock and produces a multitude of odd smells, I didn't think much of it.

The smell was getting worse so I turned off my foot heater thinking a piece of plastic had been sucked in, it scent was strong of a melting "something." Bosslady's Daughter came over and frowned instantly.

"What IS that?"
"I don't know!" large eyes.
"Man, that's toxic." and she went on her way, leaving me to breathe my chemical death.

Opened the front door and removed the heater, scolding it for producing the stench. The smell hours later though had not dissapated so I IM'd Moon to shake an ass over and give a sniff since her nostrils are highly trained instruments. She too frowned, but neither could put our finger on it.

Lungs throat and eyeballs began to hurt and we wondered if agent orange was pumping into the building. Think Labyrinth, The Bog of Eternal Stench. I can still smell it.

Since they work at the other end of the building, I was alone in the front line trenches. Sometime after lunch, I couldn't take it anymore and got to sniffing madly and it was then I saw it.

I yelped out to Moon "HELP!" She appeared faster than a rocket knowing help from me isn't my usual demand for attention.

"Oh my god."
"What do we do????"
"I'm not touching that."
"Well I'm not fucking touching it!"

She left and reappeared with Bosslady's Daughter and the GrandMaster. I'm not sure if they were to be our salvation or just two more people refusing to touch the shit. At this point, you are probably thinking I found a dead critter. No.

What in fact was rapidly happening was the act of me burning the fucking place to the ground.

No, not true. My desk was. I would say it was me had I asked, or paid the desk to do this. I'm guessing it would not have been long before that thing caught fire and shot sparks and flames big enough to blow me outside. It was literally melting into shapes in seconds.

Bosslady's Daughter turned off the lights. I do not know why, and thought it was silly but she was doing more than I was - flapping and howling, screeching "FIRE FIRE FIRE!" offering no help to the situation whatsoever.

Unplug it right? Well we had two people already refusing to touch it, one of them flailing about in circles, one turning off the lights and the last one staring blankly and saying "what's happening?"

Romper Room!

GrandMaster tried to unplug it, but my 50 million pound desk was installed less than an inch from the outlet. I never thought he'd get it, but he did.

It wasn't overloaded, I think just old. And to think, we were all blaming the innocent heater which is now banned to the stock room for a while. I had some other shit planned for the friday entry, but almost turning ones' place of work into an unemployment check sorta trumped other ideas.

-DM

Tribal Taste Test

Being that anything thrift/free/discounted/buy one get one.... is the staple that makes my soul light up like a cop's flashlight in your eyes when you know you've done fucked up, I saw an offer I could not pass by.

7-UP was claiming their shit rocks all the shit that has potential to remotely try to rock. In a politically correct sort of way, they said "don't even think you can compete with us, we're 7-UP bitches!" To prove it they were willing to send out a can of their super-diet-up, and two competitors to comsumers (limited supplies only - woo I got in, see you gotta hop on a freebie like one of those insomniac ebayers who can't stop...ya know because the bidding is almost over). /pauses and avoids a mirror.



This kit wasn't planned to be a blog entry, but after getting three cans of sody-pop on the mail and poking it with a stick for two days, why not.

For the record, and uh... stretch for me, but props to the tie breaker to be the fifth person in line to drink from the cups. I can't say I'd have done it. Shit, I'll say I was the FIRST person to demand I wouldn't do it. I had inspected those cups with great scrutiny, as they are known to be completely gross and washed worse than Paris Hilton below the waist, and this was before four mouths on it. (alright, that was low). Plus, it's MY camera, MY sody, and MY god-damned production. Ya kidding, mostly. I think.

Toasting to my Army out there!

-DM

Taken for my walk

It was a good weekend. Mostly. There were some intestinal issues shared by all in the house of Morgan on varying levels but we each took it like warriors fresh out of the Trojan Horse, no bitching no moaning, just a lot of apologetic looks.

Mr. Morgan suggested we walk down to the local carnival on Sunday, mostly to pry my ass out of this chair I suspect. So below is a very short montage of our carny trip. No prizes, no trinkets, although he did saunter to one basketball booth with a bit more confidence than he knew better to have. They aren't TRYING to help you win, but I'd been whining for a "whatever" he was sweet to try. (as ever, hit your reload buttons if they don't do their job).




We only did two items, the goofy house and the tilt a whirl. I was prepared to throw myself to the ground and beat my fists into the straw if denied the tilt-a-whirl. The tilt line was a 30 minute wait, and as we stood there... I fuck you not.....

"There are 29 people ahead of us."

Out of the blue, he was "crunching numbers". while I had been completely watching THIS:



God love a crackhead. There was no music to bop to, but fuck if he knew that.

So 29 people later we went on the whirl, and having a man the size of Mr. Morgan will really give your car a groan as it begins to train you to be an astronaut, sucking your brain to the back of your skull to examine if you are able to take it or not. We leaned, we twirled, we put all others to shame and spit on their shoes as we exited.

Quite a nice outing.

-DM

Song Deds......

It's time for the semi-annual song dedications. This time it's a mini version, I'm playing with ideas to keep things fresh. Lyrics as always, important.

Anyone left out, don't feel bad, it's probably better that I am not thinking about you as DM thinking is usually plotty in nature.

The second video is the dedication to myself.



My self-dedication has lyrics that perfectly describe how I've felt inside yet rarely shown outside. Self pity and weakness is so unflattering. I will admit a little of it here now, maybe it will help me stop being so angry. It's interesting how candid I am about intimate things yet clam up on issues that shouldn't be locked up like a diary. I have been trying to draw, some success, but mostly faltering and I find myself thrashing and crying, ripping paper, struggling to admit I just can't do it anymore. I'm not shortchanging myself, but there is very little I am good at short of being a Muse, and I have never been very proud of an ability to write things that make people laugh. It's nice, but my art.... always made me proud. A feeling of accomplishment. I can only claim my red eyes are from allergies for so long, so there. I am a lying fraud, covering my pride with Visine. To become helpless offers a humble I hope none of you ever feel while you still have your wits about you. I think of those who tackle, should I say embrace? religion, when the songs says "it's in the hands of a bitter bitter man" and I wonder if I should take that as God, or the doctor who made sure I couldn't have surgery.



Ok... cheers then! Hope you enjoyed the songs.

-DM

Love Love ME!

Have yourself a jig.....

I could watch this shit over and over and /cough over? again. Wubba. Give a look and a chance. Yes please!



More soon. Feedback me for no reason! Love love me?

-DM

Puff the Magic Dragon...

Nice weekend. Mr. Morgan and I walked down to the newly opened Chili's for some odd food.

I came home and bee-lined for my email like normal and see one from my mom saying "nice letter in the paper today!"

I thought no shit? I didn't even have to think which one it was, although I write many letters - from praise to bitch to "just so you know", no I knew this one was an editorial about smoking I'd replied to. I won't lie and say that every time I see my shit published in the paper I don't go into seizure-like freak outs until Mr. Morgan goes to get me two printed copies. Two. He went, grumbling, but I wager he finds some sort of respect and curiousity that I speak out without telling him and lead my own little crusades. He is not obligated to follow what I think, and the issue I posted on I am fiercely passionate about.

I regretfully do not have the initial article. I would never claim to quote the woman, nor will I twist her words. She said she is a lung patient and upon leaving the hospital, smokers were outside, puffing into her face. She wanted legislation to direct- she actually said DEMAND -all smokers to sidewalks. (gulping on my opinions). Below was my response... in PRINT !!!! eeeeee! (Note I did NOT title this piece, the editor did).




Sorry on pics.... my battery coughed and said it had enough for the time being.

I am sorry she has a faulty lung issue. Suck it like I am on my liver and other problems. Smokers, as I have said ... know we smell to those who don't but seriously.... chill the fuck out. Grand scheme of things, smoking isn't the worst shit to worry about on any given day to the extent one needs to write to the senate hoping to send us to the fucking sidewalk. What's next, the sewers? They did misprint my words on the do not demand we not stand outside" The NOT was an error on their part. End note, most smokers are polite, so sack the fuck off and stop making us feel like we are being dirty. New video dedications to come soon, my pc is having a case of thinking it's funny. Here's to next week gang.

-DM

KFC Cluck - Part Two of the Fast Food Hit

(Editors note... in the video, not only do my wings have epilepsy, my fingers have dyslexia)

As the second leg of our fast food raids, we hit KFC. I expected more. These people were droids, we could see their programming chips blinking under their uniforms. Here's how it went.



In closure I will say KFC was far too loud for us. Too many people bitching and roaming aimlessly, completely lacking interest in my chickeny grin of welcome. Plus the employee's gave me a look as though this was common outfit. Being only our second food raid, I rate KFC thumbs down for taking 10 minutes to serve us shit we could have easilly grabbed ourselves from the shelf, and a double thumbs down for having the most unhappy motherfucks ever. With exception of a few folks who saw me outside with the sign and paused to say... "Crazy.... but ROCK!" type of sentiment.

Part 3 to come.....

-DM