[after]
2006.02.20 Debt Exposure
2006.02.19 Beer, eh
2006.02.17 Drawing a Blank
2006.02.15 Yeah, yeah, yeah
2006.02.13 Sea Slug FAQ
2006.02.12 She said yes.
2006.02.11 One More Step
2006.02.09 Reknown
2006.02.06 Glass
2006.02.03 For Rent
2006.01.30 Forty four dead stone lions
2006.01.25 Closed Caption
2006.01.24 Jane Called
2006.01.24 New fresh scent!
2006.01.23 If my home were bugged
2006.01.20 Home on the range, you knob
2006.01.17 Yarrrrr!
2006.01.13 Lappers and Nonlappers
2006.01.11 Dying
2006.01.10 Like crack. . . .
2006.01.04 Toque Scratch Off
2006.01.01 Draw 4 Wild
2005.12.30 Barrio Dark Side
2005.12.28 Sancho Panza
2005.12.25 Country Roads
[before]
[earliest]

catblogging
day to day
dialogues
dreams
favourites
food
games
humour
knowledge
language
media
memes
metablogging
music
o canada
observed
peeves
philosophy
stories: now
stories: then
supernatural
texas our texas
travels

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If my home were bugged
On the Romanian dessert commonly known as "Bird's Milk":

She: What did your grandmother call her thing sort of like this again? A flotilla? Flotsam?
I: Junket.
She: I knew it was something like that. You know. A junk. Boat. Flotilla. What is a junket anyway?
I: Isn't it like a group of politicians on a trip or something?
She: Hm. Yeah. Nevermind.


On the Star Wars Gangsta Rap:

"You know, then there's the Yaletown gangsta rap."
"Oh? How's that go?"
"I don't know. I'm a yuppy, yo. Got accessory puppy. Lululemon pants and a yoga place above me. Something like that."
"Oh my god. Is that a real song?"
"No."
"Well, it should be."


On environmental consciousness:

She: I recycle everything. I'm the most obsessive recycler I know. I had it down to a science — maybe one small bag of garbage every three or four weeks.
I: And then what happened?
She: Then the DivaCup happened. It raised the bar on me. Now there are people producing even less garbage than I do. I was comfortable at the top, but now I have all this catching up to do. DAMN THAT DIVA CUP!


On phone sex:

She: How can you not be good at phone sex?
I: I don't know. It always feels silly, and then I don't know what to say, so I sort of sabotage it.
She: Show me.
I: Uh. . . .
She: Okay I'll start. I spot you from the other side of the room. I beckon to you.
I: What are you wearing?
She: It's a very sexy bit of lingerie. Red lace. I'm wearing it just for you.
I: Oh shit.
She: What?
I: I just finished.
She: Like finished finished?
I: Yeah.
She: You do suck.
I: I told you.