Whoever said, “Absolute power corrupts absolutely” was absolutely right in the absolutest possible sense of the word absolute. You see, I have absolute power over what I put on my site, and I indulge myself way too often. But, in warning you that I’m posting this just because I can, I’m hoping to alleviate any guilt I might otherwise feel about boring you with ten or more sentence fragments…

So, without further adieu, I give you

Stuff I May or May Not Blog About

• Flash Gordon.
• Toy soldiers and marbles.
• The turtle accident.
• The girl who was the direct cause of my riding in the hatchback of very small car for a two hour drive.
• Is that a big yellow crayon or are you just happy to see me?
• Bats on the lake.
• Slippery tennis shoes: Sledding adventure.
• Billy meets the Buddhist group, and they find him wanting.
• People lying to me for sport, because I’m trusting.
• Making out under a fountain.
• My skiing prowess and lack thereof.
• Disturbing the dead is damn near impossible ’cause they’re dead.
• Graveyards.
• The cardboard skeleton of doom.
• Lying about finding a dead body.
• The cop with the keen sense of smell.

You’re traveling through another dimension, not only of sight and sound but of food. A journey into a wondrous refrigerator whose boundaries are that of imagination. That’s a signpost up ahead.

Your next stop: “The Salad Zone”…

While humming gently to herself, Ms. Debossky places her salad onto the third shelf of her refrigerator. She suspects nothing out of the ordinary.

How could she? How could she possibly know that soon - too soon - she would bear witness to a freak chain reaction and that dinner would not be the same again?

The sun is now low in the sky. Dinner time approacheth in suburbia. Ms. Debossky begins to set the table. Napkins are put out, forks are set out. Crackers are scrounged up. Sodas are poured.

But, what of the salad dressing? Ms. Debossky knew it must be retrieved.

It would be a simple matter. The dressing was located on the top shelf of the refrigerator. More specifically, it was located on the top shelf and ominously close to the back ledge of the refrigerator where a crevice three inches wide and three foot deep existed. Was this just what it appeared to be? A space at the rear of the refrigerator? Or, was it the very mouth of hell itself?

Either way, she can’t eat a salad without dressing on it. So she reaches out hesitantly over the other two hundred or so items that are on the top shelf. Carefully. Carefully. But, not carefully enough.

(If this weren’t black and white tv, one might say she was #$%^@# by the fickle finger of fate.)

She touches the bottle with the edge of her hand, and it falls unceremoniously into the hellmouth.

The dressing falls down the space of two shelves and hits a can of Sprite on the third shelf - the very same third shelf she had placed the salad on earlier. The Sprite can then bumps into the salad and the salad falls onto the kitchen floor.

Ms. Debossky barely saved herself from swooning at the sight of those greens lying naked on the linoleum.

Her mind raced. What would she do? Her precious salad lay in a pile on the floor. On the floor! She wrung her head in her hands and wondered what else they might have for dinner…

*cue music*

Ms. Debossky thought she would have a simple salad, but she got more than she bargained for. Inconvenient things happen when you step over into

long dramatic pause
“The Salad Zone.”

*A dramatization of an absolutely true story. The name has been changed…well, just for the hell of it. It was me, ok?

This mornings distraction: StupidVideos.com.

Michael and I are spending the morning sitting at our respective computers, laughing and shouting numbers at each other.

Shaun of the Dead looks inviting. It’s a British film, but hopefully they’ll show it in American theaters as well.

Republicans love to photoshop. I know because I just visited a site where a pic was posted of a peace protesor with a sign that read “I *heart* NY even better without the trade center.” Um, hmm.

Yeah, PEACE protestors love terrorists.

Sad thing is some morons will see that stupid crap and buy into the “liberals hate America” propoganda that the GOP is pushing.

Can anybody believe the depths to which some people will stoop in a lame attempt to re-elect a hateful, useless ass-faced clown? No, really?

Some day in the future I will be able to plan a birthday party for myself. I’ll buy all the streamers, I’ll send out invitations, and I’ll even bake my own cake. But, the real beauty of it will be that when it’s time for the party it will still come as a huge surprise to me.

That’s how frickin’ absent-minded I’m getting!

I’m so flaky. Pillsbury should sell me in a can.

Seriously.

I woke up yesterday and made my morning coffee. Then I surfed about the internet for a little while. I don’t remember what I read, but it must have been engrossing. Anyhow, while I’m reading, I start getting a hankerin’ for a cup o’ joe, so I’m thinking, “I should go make some coffee.”

When I walked into my kitchen, I swear I was happy as a cat to discover a full pot already setting there.

The coffee fairies came! They came!

Then it occurred to me that I am suffering from short term memory loss, and my joy was stifled almost as soon as it began.

But, don’t worry, folks. Hell, I’m gonna forget this whole incident ever happened quicker than you can say “ditz.”

Coffee fairies are nice.