Elsewhere …

Once in a puce moon, I still post over at ModernPooch.com. Today is one of those puce-moon days. So go check it out!
WARNING: If you are prone to squealing and making a fool of yourself over the intense adorability of dogs and cats, as I am, this may not be “safe for work”. Unless you work in an environment where squealing and folly are encouraged, as mine is.
Enjoy!

0 thoughts on “Elsewhere …

  1. Vendela: Nope! I got Lucky.
    Token fella: You have to say that. You’re my fella ‘n’ whatnot.
    Cody: Guy-style. Girly pushups are for pussies.

  2. I’m sorry, I am far too hung up on, “Fuck it, bitch. You’re going DOWN!” to post any kind of coherent ramblings on the intracasies of compulsive PCR disease here.
    But rest assured, were I to post some kind of coherent ramblings on the intracasies of compulsive PCR disease here, they would undoubtably be petty, competetive and ridiculous. For you see, I am not just the president of the PCR club, I am also a member.
    But now that Jodi has so graciously provided me with a mental image that will undoubtably haunt my thoughts, bulge my pants, and thus scare little old ladies waiting at the train station waiting for the C train to take them to the Social Security Office because their monthly checks were 47 cents short, I cannot possibly delve into the intracasies of PCR disease.
    All because of the words, “Fuck it, bitch. You’re going DOWN!”
    Hm. That may be my favorite quote of all time. I’d like to see it over the hovering one-eyed pyramid on the back of the dollar bill. Or maybe that’s what E Pluribus Unum really means. Who knows? No one except defrocked pedophiliac priests and lawyers who use it as a justification for their exhorbitantly high fees speak Latin anymore anyway. (“I know your settlement was $114,000 dollars, Maam. Yes I know my fee was $87,000 of that, but you see, I spoke LATIN in the courtroom! Caveat Emptor, baby!”)
    “Fuck it, bitch. You’re going DOWN!” I wonder if there’s hair-twisting with that?
    PCR Disease indeed.

  3. And then you marched down to that studio and fucked Jeremy Piven in the ass. (That’s how the story ends in my world.)

  4. Woe be on the guy who insinuates that Jodi might do “girl push-ups”! He might get lined up right next to Jeremy and suffer(?) the same fate. You might as well accuse her of riding an escalator while a perfectly good stairway is right next to it.

  5. Ds: Put your one-eyed pyramid back in your pants, damn it!
    Jay: You know me so well!
    Token fella: You know me even better. And you have witnessed this first-hand!

  6. Carey: I do not sink so low as to get high! Among my other traits that Kate will no doubt have to hate me for, I am almost “squeaky clean” in the alcohol/drug/vice department, drinking perhaps once every two months and even then only having one or two (which is enough to get a “wee” girl like me suitably intoxicated).
    Kate: I will waive my disdain for girly push-ups in your case, because you *make* such a good case. Also because I want you to continue to leave comments that are longer than the posts for which they are being left. And I say this without facetiousness. You slay me, in all the very very VERY best ways.

  7. ***cough cough cough bullshit cough cough cough***
    squeaky clean in the vice department, huh?
    (opens Volume 1, Book 1, Paragraph 1 of the complete and unabridged reference library to Jodi’s ‘permanent record’ that is but one source for all things questionably vice-like….)
    Shall I read from the beginning, or just the highlights?

  8. One pauses to ponder, pontificate and generally puhrooze the point of proflific prose posted primarily by one pretty, pouty, occasionally potty-mouthed Kate.
    And as one pauses to ponder, one starts to make a mental image of said poster of prolific prose, and hopefully without being petty, pretty much wonders what this person probably looks like. Possibilities pervade, parading proudly past like primadonnas primped for prom.
    But what one ends up with looks like this…
    Smart. – Big cranium.
    Witty, sharp tongue. – Muscular jaw lined with razor sharp teeth.
    Weak upper body. – Sloped shoulders, tiny arms.
    Able to lock overstuffed luggage with superstrong thighs. – Large powerful legs.
    Can stand being mentally compared to Ripa and Jodi. – Thick skinned.
    By scientific deduction, based on empirical evidence, hypothesis, astute reasoning and forensic anthropology, this reader has come to the obvious and undeniable conclusion that Kate is indeed….
    A Tyrannosaurus Rex.

  9. this is why i love you, never change, hon, never change. and, off the subject, i want to have piven’s babies. i’m not sure who this “ripa” is that you speak of, but she is clearly nothing more than a menstrual clump next to the JoDiva!

  10. Hm. Off topic. Crazy Kate is commenting here (still) but not at my place (anymore).
    ::sigh::
    Good for you on the pushups. I think I might be able to manage five (5).

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