i hate this stupid, tiny text box. why is it so goddamn small? what kind of idiot only writes such tiny amounts? who the fukk thought BLOG people would only write such tiny entries? were they on CRACK?
i guess so.
ok, rant over. but note that the size of the box i write these entries in is directly responsible for the bullshitty state of many of my entries. the ones without caps, for the most part.
thing i saw on a blog today: wish lists.
what? is that crazy? talk about santa lists. do people really go to other people’s wish lists and actually buy them that shit? for those of you not in the know, a wish list is really just a list of shit people want to buy from somewhere like amazon or ebay.
i dunno. these seem a bit bullshitty to me.
i guess i might write a wish list on a scrap of paper here at home, but it’s mostly things like cds or books to keep an eye out for in second hand shops.
The Mother has a list of things she’s looking for for me, but that’s mostly to stop her buying me things like The Ugliest Jumper In The Whole World (i’ll put a pic up sometime soon, then offer it to the highest bidder). while TUJITWW is kinda facinating, it’s not so useful… though i’m up to about ninemillion bonehandled knives now, so maybe i need to amend her list. The Mother is a crap-magnet. that’s her official family title. she just loves crap. she loves hunting it, killing it, dragging it home to decorate her nest with it or mail off to other people so they can decorate their nests with it. the whole pink book thing is part of that i guess.
not to say that i don’t enjoy her regular parcels – the last one had in it:
– a tasswing tshirt
– a pack of lavender egyptian towels
– a silverpolishing cloth
– half a dozen bars of hippy soap
– two blocks of handmade tasmanian chocolate
– some little sparkly stick on things
oh, and some other stuff, too that i can’t remember. it was pretty cool. i like all the soap, we ate all the chocolate, i actually cleaned the silver teapot set m and broos gave me about a million years ago (and they look fukking ooorsome).
but still. my list for The Mother is mostly a matter of my placating her rabid hunter-gatherer instincts, rather than an ‘oh, i might like to own all this shit‘ list.
… but what if people actually bought you that shit? maybe that’d be cool.