sneaky

What better to get you in a festive holiday mood than a blow up cacti? after having a fabulous fiesta birthday for a friend several months ago (at which blow up cacti are mandatory, i am sure you are aware), this thing somehow managed to sneak into our basement, and take up residence next to my cabbage patch kid collection of yore. after you stop feeling that sad mixture of pity and contempt toward me (and perhaps jealousy?) because i openly admitted to having a hoard of cabbage patch kids living in my basement, you will realize just how strange this wandering cacti is. it must be that special genus of migrating plastic cacti you always read about but never see, because no one in the household knows how it got downstairs. spoooky!next thing you know i will wake up at 4 in the morning and it will be standing over my bed holding a cabbage patch kids head in its arms.

yum?

Infestation! well, not really, my mom brought the pigs home from her school for the holiday weekend, and they have been cursed once again with basement dwelling. the white one is named sugarplum, and she is a mouthy little pig. the brown ones name is fudge ripple, shes very quiet and shy, and never purrs, thus making her my favorite, because shes not your typical pig. i am allergic to guinea pigs, i get mad hives all over if i even think about touching their cute little fuzzy fluffy (delicious, according to that dude on that 'bizarre foods' show) bodies. but its fun to have them down there with me, keeping me company with their cute little piggy twitterings and noises. and its also quite convenient, you know, if i get hungry or anything...

why i dont accomplish more in life

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OBSkLfVp2fQ&NR=1

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BzwOsIh7FDE&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GzKgjmrqmRI

what was i thinking?

Mild humiliation is good for you, right? so, my mom insisted on putting this first painting on the wall in the basement. its from my stint in oil painting class. i was in 6th grade, and i seriously thought i rocked the very foundations of the oil painting world, with my, uhh, superior pine tree and shrubbery making skills. oh yeah. i mean i guess its not terrible for a 6th graders first time painting with oils. but on the other hand, its mocking me with its sad sad mediocrity, and

i secretly wish it would spontaneously combust already and leave me in peace.

I can honestly say that this second painting is a complete mystery to me. i have no idea why i painted it, and am equally confused as to why its still living in my moms basement, i thought i threw it out once already... like 10 years ago or something. and what to do with my buxom friend now? i fear she may soon meet an untimely end. she may not have any eyes, but she sure has boobs (in the middle of her stomach?) to make up for her short comings. what was wrong with me? the only thing cool, at least in my book of cool(io), about this painting and the next, are that they are painted on toilet paper. this one had a backing of plastic, the next is affixed to a cardboard box, on top of which i crumpled toilet paper and then saturated it with a mixture of elmer's glue and water. once it was dry, it made a really groovy surface to paint on. now if only i had something decent to paint. like chickens maybe.

This one was inspired by a black and white picture in a psych text of mine. i obviously was delirious when making my color selections, but at the time i thought i was so profound. deep man. deeply retarded, but whatever.

i've got nothing

Really. i guess little cross dressing gender confused moose bears enjoy frolicking in deep dank habitats such as my basement. how else do you explain its existence? i've got nothing. and seriously, pink and orange? that's so last season.
in other news, essentially all i have accomplished in the past week of cleaning has been the rearrangement of crap. rewarding; the only word to describe it. i mean, other than superific.

winter wonderland

Upon entering a side room of the basement the other night, i realized that we are all set for winter, in a weird crazy family kind of way. because you all know what a fan of snowshoeing i am. i apparently come from an avid snowshoe(r)? family though, because in the background there is a second pair of snowshoes, in case you forget where you put the first ones? i don't know. i don't think they have been used since i was born, but they are so crazy cool, and they hardly take up any space, i can totally see why we still have them hanging around our basement. i mean, after all, you never know when you and a bunch of friends will be hanging out, and they will be all, 'oh my gosh, you know what? we should all go snowshoeing!' and if you didn't happen to have a pair, and a spare pair, you would be all embarrassed and have to make up an excuse like, 'oh, sorry guys, i, err, have to go shampoo my cat. maybe later'. then you would just have to go home, dreaming of them all out having a snowshoeing good time, while you sat alone drinking your chocolate milk. cant have that. also, apparently my family and i enjoy sledding as well as skiing! who knew?

i found me teef!

Most people may not be super excited to find teeth in their moderately creepy basements, and under normal circumstances i would join their ranks, because, eww! but really, i love my wisdom teeth, so much that even though i found them a bit ago, i must share. now, if i were to find more teeth down in the subterranean depths of my house, i might have to do the freak out dance, but here's to a relatively tooth free basement. yay! When i was little i couldn't wait to get my wisdom teeth, because i really thought they would bring the wisdom of adulthood with them, and poof! i would become a wise adult. ahh, the disillusioned days of childhood, when i actually thought adulthood=wisdom. i remember being crushed when i learned that i would eventually have to have them pulled. so, as i grew, i formulated a plan (muuha ha ah!) to have the oral surgeon save them for me. when i asked him to save them for me, he looked at me like i had asked him to slap me and call me sally, but eventually agreed to let me have them. and so here they are, encased in a lovely sample size jelly jar, the traditional tooth holder in our family.