long live rock
05.07.04 @ 11:22 p.m.
Oh my god, these stupid newscasters explaining internetese. Not even internetese, which I am becoming almost distressingly familiar with the longer I stay with Dumbrella, but basic acronyms and abbreviations which often infuriate me because they are so stupid anyway.
"Bee Arr Bee? Ell Oh Ell? Sounds like gibberish to most people, but to your teenager..."
I suppose I am overly patronizing and insulting about newscasters. Amazing that I ever saw myself following that career path.
Last night I was up until 3 writing a paper for Chaucer (the use of the word "love" in the general prologue as an identifier of the essential quality in a given character's personality... exciting), and that took its toll on me during my bus ride up to PDX. I slept, or at least dozed, listening to Tommy and I don't remember what else. Most of The Small Faces and the first seven songs off The Story of the Clash, I guess. It was frustrating, because I'd emerge from this dozy fog and realize my mouth was open (not way open, just a little) and be embarassed. Just as well, the guy who sat next to me all the way up from Eugene was asleep, too.
Mom and I got a pizza and just hung out, which was nice. About a half hour ago, Mom and I stopped watching Pirates, which I finally remembered to bring home for her to watch again. She was falling asleep just as Norington arrived at Isla de Muerta, so we stopped for the night.
Puppies! Of course that's all I can write about when I am at home. They're getting really big and eyes are open. All but two have lost tails, and the two that still have them worry me a little. They should be gone and they're looking weird and warped. Gracie's tail is gone and her eyes are open. Puppies at this age tend to give you an "Oh god, what do you want now?" look when you pick them up, and yet I continue to do so because they are the distilled and solidified essence of adorability itself. I have named another one. I had to memorize his markings, but the distinctive thing that made me name him is that he's the first one to be truly walking on all four legs. Boy struts. Which is why I have named him....
...wait for it...
...Mick Jagger.
The quite funny thing is that my parents are referring to all the boy dogs as Sid Vicious after telling Amy that a name with "Vicious" in it is probably not an ideal dog name. There will be a dog named "Iggy Pop," but I haven't decided which one. That leaves, hmm, four names to come up with. The girl is Grace Slick. I think there should be a Pete Townshend, but all the dogs have squished in, stubby noses at this point! How can I choose the most appropriate candidate?
Eventually I will shut up about dogs and puppies, but I have one more observation to make: My dog has gotten jealous of her own babies. I was in playing with them (well, looking and cooing and poking) and she decided that she had to get into the kid's pool that they're being raised in (actually, my parents bought a NEW pool with higher sides because the pups were getting out already) and squeeze in between them and me. "Hey, you want someone to pet? I'm right here, look at me. Look, I can be soulful. Those things? You don't want to pay attention to them. ME ME ME!"
Hmm. Grace Slick, Mick Jagger, Iggy Pop, and Pete Townshend. Three more boy rock star names are needed. I'm trying to select from a variety of bands and stay within the sixties and seventies.
[Title: The Who]
Previously
fuck it @ 08.01.05
fanciful imaginary sea voyages to come @ 07.20.05
*dies* @ 07.19.05
more ootp @ 07.17.05
harry potter: driving our children into devil worship @ 07.17.05
