Dedicated to Filliam H. Muffman

Say it---go head I dare you. Say Filliam H Muffman without laughing. IF you can you are a better man than I am. Not that I'm a man-but that doesn't detract from how I have balls.
Tied for second place in the funniest thing about Thursday is this classic from Stephen and the Colberts. Not that I'm a crushing fan girl or anything. I'm too old for that shit--in what I understand is a masculine ranking of personalities I find that a better description isn't that I want to squee all over the internets about men of any sort-but there are a few that I'd like to go drinking with. That's really what makes or breaks a deal-would I want to be drunk with this person? If yes, then the criteria for cool are met in my brain (clearly, I will never go drinking with most of these people-so this is where the fandom comes in-the textual poaching if you will). Them what know me probably think-who WOULDN'T she drink with? Well, I wouldn't want to go drinking with Tony Danza. Oh, he's probably nice and all, but I wouldn't want to have a beer with him-it wouldn't be fun. Ellen Degeneres, I could totally see myself drinking with her. There isn't a chance in hell or Toledo I'd ever have a drink with Oprah, just no. I'd be on my third drink and she'd shut down the bar to tell me how disappointed she is in me for betraying her trust and worse yet, betraying mySELF by getting loaded in her presence. Why I'm ranking talk show hosts as drinking partners I do not know.
Here's more of a list-taking no time to consider whether or not these people actually partake of the demon alcohol:
Judge Judy-drink
Judge Maybelline-no drink
Ryan Seacrest-no drink
Christopher Meloni-drink
Gillian Anderson-drink
Denis Leary-drink
Bob Saget-drink
Dave Coullier-no drink
Roseanne-no drink
John Goodman-drink
Jon Stewart-drink
Stephen Colbert-drink
Amy Sedaris-drink
David Sedaris-drink
Paul Dinello-drink
Douglas Coupland-drink
Drew Carey-drink
Eric Idle-no drink
Michael Palin-drink
John Cleese-drink
Dave Foley-drink
Scott Thompson-drink
Bruce McCulloch-drink
Tony Geary-drink
99.9% of men that find me attractive-no drink
George W. Bush-no drink...or...actually, if I could get him to drink...and film it...and then show it on TV and discredit him...and laugh...such laughter....but it probably would work against me and I'd end up in the Ole Grey Bar Hotel---that's what the kids call it..the Slammer...the Joint...deep shit is where I'd end up....so I'm back to no drink with the ole Shubbery.

RIGHT-so, I'm back from that little flight of fancy. I could go on all night--even working back in time to the people that are dead and thus not much fun to throw one back with anymore. But in the time allotted I should say something amounting to approximately less than nothing.

The Mum is coming to visit for awhile tomorrow. Or, since that is a poorly worded sentence I should say: Tomorrow, Mum is coming to visit. Because the first sentence indicated that she was stopping by for tea and then would be on her way to other locations. Much of my energy for the day was put forth cleaning the place-re-ordering it somewhat so that she could comfortably walk in and not suffer an attack. She will probably have some sort of attack anyway-even at it's cleanest I have discovered that anywhere that will have me live in it is somewhat sloppy. The CDs over run everything-the ephemera, miscellany and iconography that covers most every spare inch of my apartment are forces with which to be reckoned. A weak sould would be troubled by some of the items, but I find clutter to be not stifling but invigorating.
I have to get up early in the AM to go to church. If you can call a Unitarian gathering church...it's for school. The assignment is to go to a service at a place of worship where I am not a member. If I over sleep I'm going to a Buddhist thing. That probably isn't church either I guess. I was going to go to synagogue, but there were weather advisories. Middle TN is so pussified, seriously, the whole damn region closed for the "storm of the century of the week" and we got not one solitary flake. This morning when I took dog out and I saw the complete lack of snow I laughed my balls off. Anyhoo-if I sleep thru the Unitarian services, both of them, and the Buddhist meditatioh and video (really, the largest part of the thing is a video...crazy practitioners of an ancient, peaceful religion, watching a video) I might just watch Mass from Notre Dame on cable. I was pushing to watch O'Reilly since many people see no division between religion and politics despite that nasty little seperation of church and state thing. And there are misguided souls that take everything he says as gospel-which reminds me,I'm a bit peckish and Colbert says that the BLT is the only "real" American sandwich. I should make one now...unfortunately, I'm out of bacon. I could have a lettuce and tomato but that doesn't sound American, that sounds like something the communists would eat. Vegetarian Communists, the biggest threat the liberty after Gluten Intolerant Libertarians, those people are just viscious.

I named dog-by the way-his name is Coupland. Cope, or just Co, if I'm feeling lazy. He doesn't seem to hate it, and it's better than calling him Dog. It also meets the criteria for naming namely it's:
esoteric
litery
not easy to shorten into a diminutive (this is why he isn't name Frederick)
completely inappropriate based on his size and appearance thus giving him an inflated since of dogportance

Oooh-exciting-the computer is almost done formatting. I'm going to bed when that's done.
Sadly, that leaves no time to post the fan fiction story I wrote...maybe another time.