Where u go, Russia?

This made me want to take the red pill (or was it the blue pill?) and go night-night.  For a VERY. LONG. TIME. -

At least she is addressing the issue of sneaky Russians, I think.  I mean, that line, 

"They are in the state that I'm the executive of!"

causes me great anxiety for a few reasons;

1. She claims the Russians are within her jurisdiction.  Russian troops have already penetrated our borders once this year - HERE - so, this has become a matter of national security.

2. That sentence ended in a preposition and is therefore alarming to my senses.

...But anyway! Her astute observations continue, as she reveals herself to be a truly credible source on the tactics of Russian espionage -

"As Putin - where's his head?  And, uh, comes into the airspace of the United States of America, wh-where do they go?"

Holy shit, where DO they go?  She is correct in previously mentioning that Russia is close to Alaska - I just checked Google maps for reference.  I must say, however, that I'm extremely relieved by Alaska's proactive approach to border safety.  I mean, we are sending "those" out to "make sure an eye is being kept on this very powerful nation, Russia..."

"Those"?  Sarah Palin knows how to protect America, and not just with hunting rifles!  Sounds like a secret.  A delicious secret.  She may want to let Bush in on this one, since we are trying to fence the Mexicans out...I hear it's not going so well.

This is Possibly How I Came Into Existence

Today, amidst my monthly closet-dive, I stumbled upon this treasure of all treasures - a photo of my parents on their 1983 honeymoon in Canada. 

Wow.  That must have been one week of pure, absolute salacious bliss.

It is nice to know that my mother and father were once an inconceivably sweet couple who dressed in matching outfits.  Raincoats, at that.  On a lightly cloudy day.  Do you see rain?  Because I don't.  Maybe there was the remote possibility of a storm (100 miles away), but my bullshit detector is flaring up at the moment.  I mean, if those glasses truly were the style of the times, I can't imagine one would stop short of wrapping themselves in a bright yellow plastic bag (with flannel lining?) for the whole world to see.  And don't even get me started on the fucking hat.

For a new set of reasons, I will once again declare that I AM SO GLAD THE 80's WERE NOT A PART OF MY ADULT, OR EVEN ADOLESCENT LIFE.  I was a mere child who probably assumed every day to be a lesser version of Halloween.  Then Halloween really would arrive, and everybody looked exactly the same, save for some cheap vampire fangs or broomstick prop.  And the candy, of course.  And those poisonous, child un-friendly glow sticks that I always chewed on.  

My problems now are beginning to make much more sense.

This is for Your Own Safety

Texans urged to evacute...imminent Bush visit.

Eat this Snickers, You Skinny Bitch, and Say Hello to the Chicken Man for Me

Being a food lover with an extraordinarily fast metabolism works to my advantage in most any environment - especially the office. It seems as though every two hours, if I haven't yet wandered through peoples' personal spaces in a desperate search for food and/or entertainment, I am automatically offered a treat of some sort by a concerned passerby. Invariably, they will state something to the effect of, "Oh my god. You're losing weight. Like, a lot of weight...here, have this doughnut." -or- "Why can't I have your 'problem'? Here's a candy bar, hopefully you will wake up with a tire around your waist tomorrow."

They keep feeding me, and to their dismay, I continue to exhibit the same figure.

Today I realized that my co-workers have me on a feeding schedule - though it is not entirely regimented (I do not always have to wait two long hours), there is no end to the offerings. And I'm not complaining.

Generally, my first concern of any given work day is to grab breakfast to-go from the employee cafeteria (this is after I eat breakfast at home prior to my shift). Once I am finished, the first individual to notice that my desk is lacking in food items will assail me with whatever food item they can find. A pretzel? How about some old peppermints I found in my drawer?! ANYTHING TO KEEP YOU ALIVE AND FUNCTIONING UNTIL YOU GET YOURSELF SOME MEDICAL ATTENTION. This persists throughout the day.

I fear that if I do not begin to gain weight like a normal human, they will soon ship me off to the circus, and I would become the only creature the public would be encouraged to feed...awesome.

But!! Then again, I will be forced to spend time around clowns. NOT. COOL.

I Prefer Chicken.