Brent took this photo yesterday while driving home. He says this person stands at this bus stop in Te Atatu, holding up an LP of Aladdin Sane, *every single day* at about 3.30 - 4.00 pm. (I never see this in person because my bus comes past about an hour later.)

What is this? Art? Crazy fandom? Wackiness? Batshitinsanity? Any suggestions?

In honour of the soon to be released Strangers With Candy movie (which I am probably going to have to see through legally dodgy means due to everything Sedaris-family-related being completely obscure down here) I give you one of my favourite Jerri Blank quotes from the TV series:

 

'Jerri, what does V-I-C-T-O-R-Y spell?'

'Fandango? Hobocamp? Ho...hobocamp!'

A red-letter day: quoted by Russell Brown!

I work with Shahzad, but I don't know him very well. Until today, I only knew him as a nattily dressed and wonderfully courteous person, who always has a smile and a greeting for everyone. I also knew that he is originally from Iran and that there was some difficulty associated with his past life there. Today, Public Address published an interview transcript with him. It is a truly amazing and moving story of how he came to New Zealand as a refugee, and it's well worth reading. (Particularly now, when people here and in the US seem to have such negative associations with immigrants and refugees.)

When it comes to the dogs, I try to be responsible. I, with Brent's help, deflea them and worm them and wash them and walk them and take them to the vet regularly. I also, per the law, register them with the local city council, and today the yearly registration bill came in the mail. I haven't paid a separate one for Vinnie before, because when I adopted him from the pound last year the registration fee was included with the adoption/desexing fee, and I didn't know how it all broke down. But I am now very pleased to inform you all that there is a specific value attached to dog genitalia. If you wanted to buy a dog penis, it is worth the princely sum of $39.00, since Vinnie, a desexed male, costs $149.00 - $39.00 more than Ellie, a desexed female. Cry sexism! ('and let slip the dogs of war').

 

(Actually, I do kind of understand why the council does that. Male dogs *are* more likely to roam, pee and hump on things, and generally be a pain in the arse. But not so much with desexed male dogs. I mean, all they've got is that little... lipstick. The troublesome bollocks are out of the picture.)

'It's a celebration, bitches.' Today, I paid every single bill online. I ordered my groceries for delivery this evening. I bought concert tickets and had them emailed to me. I ordered organic fruits and vegetables for delivery this afternoon. I ordered imported Mexican salsas and some habanero sauce from Christchurch. I also ordered two medicinal items from the chemist. All while sitting on my ass at work. The internet: is there anything it *can't* do?

New Zealand's only real pay-TV service, Sky, introduced a kind of fake Tivo-thing called MySky six months ago. Yesterday, despite the hefty leasing/installation fee, we got it installed (that extra mortgage money came in handy!).

It is now officially the Best Thing Ever. Seriously. My love for it grows with every passing moment. I need never miss another episode of Coronation Street, or Jerry Springer, or that ultra-bitchy UK show about doing up houses and selling them on called Property Ladder, but which Brent and I call All Your Ideas About Everything Suck And Are Completely Wrong. Will I miss the next series of Shameless? No! Will I miss episodes of the Muppet Show due to it being on at the ungodly hour of 12.30am? No! Can I record all the day reruns of the Amazing Race that I missed? Yes! Last night, when we were watching Oprah's 20 Year Anniversary Special (or as we re-christened it, The Incredible Exploding Superego), we were able to *pause live TV just at the moment where Tom Cruise makes his special, horrifyingly scary Scientologist-face and jumps on the couch*! And then rewind it! And play it over and over again, in gales of hysterical laughter!

Sheer joy. I want to cradle the big phallic remote with rubberised grip in my arms and croon to it Lennon-esquely: 'oh my lover, for the first time in my life, myyyyyy eyes are wide open...'

God. Next I'll be posting one of those 'hang in there!' kitty office posters. But my pets are cute, dammit! Cute!

Look at this terrific page of old advertising images during the pre-drug-prohibition era. Give your child morphine when it's teething! You know you want to!