Shortpacked!: Vague genitalia.

Yeah, I guess my honeymoon with Bludgeon isn't over yet.  So here's a photo of Bludgeon cutting the ice cream twins in half, because he can.  Look out, Batman Punching Everybody, 'cuz here comes Bludgeon Cutting Everyone In Half.

I've been getting pretty good at getting everyone's book orders out the business day after they come in, so they should all be arriving very quickly!  I don't really guarantee they'll arrive before Christmas in the days to come, even though they're sent Priority Mail, 'cuz what with Christmas mail volume and everything.  Plus, like, we're going to Indiana early next week, so yeah.   We just ain't gonna be here.  Anyway, enjoy your orders, those who made them!  

So I caved and totally preordered this unofficial Teletraan I playset.  It was the stickers that did it.  Sorta made it all click.  I have no idea where I'm going to put it.  It's a pretty big playset!  But man, it satisfies that tiny little eight-year-old in me that wanted exactly one of these.  Plus, this sort of product is filed firmly under the "Hasbro Will Never Ever Make This" category, so I don't feel too bad throwing money at it, unlike the various unofficial attempts at mass-producing various popular characters.  

If only it came in light blue, so I could pretend it was the Marvel Comics computer system.  But, well, you know me and orange. This is more than fine.

Tags: christmas, fan add-ons, revenge of the fallen, transformers

Oh my gosh, you guys. This week. THIS WEEK IS AWFUL.

Tuesday, I came out from work and my front passenger side tire was flat. I did not notice, as I got in the driver's side and drove off without looking. Luckily, some pedestrians on the way home told me, so I stopped at my garage, and they filled it up with air, said they couldn't hear a leak and put air in the other tires for good measure. "Keep an eye on it," they said.

Wednesday, I came out of work, and the rear driver's side tire was half flat, but the first tire was still filled. SO. I drove to the garage again, and when I got there it was completely flat and they scolded me for driving on it. :( But the garage is only five minutes from work! ANYWAY. They filled it up with air and said they couldn't hear a leak in this one either, and told me again to keep an eye on it.

This morning, I come out of my house and both tires are flat. D:

Rear one, completely flat, front one, half-flat. D: D: D:

So I call work and tell them I'm going to be late, and I call AAA and they come and put the spare on the back and inflate the front enough to drive. Did I mention it was 6 degrees out this morning? And that I live across the street from a school and all of this was going on while the buses were coming and the parents were dropping kids off, and everyone was cursing the AAA driver and me standing out in the street? Also, windchill, I hate you. Also also, spare tire? Kind of soft. "Make sure you put some air in that too," AAA driver helpfully told me.

So, I drove to the tire place, because my garage doesn't keep tires in stock but could order some but I mean, what was I going to do while I waited for the ordering? I HAD TWO FLAT TIRES I NEEDED NEW TIRES NOW. Tire place guy offers me the choice of 4 new tires at $80 a piece or better tires at $95 a piece. "Do you want to wait?" tire guy asks me. I HAVE TWO FLAT TIRES, WHAT DO YOU THINK, DUDE? So I wait. And wait. And wait. An hour and a half and $340 later, I have four new tires and I am frostbitten, because there's no heat in the garage.

I finally get to work at 10:30 (am supposed to be there at 8 a.m.) and guess what? No heat in the building. Everyone is wearing scarves and gloves and coats and blankets (and no, I don't know why so many people bring blankets to work). Luckily, I have a nice warm scarf and armwarmers and a calorimetry, courtesy of bedlamsbard, plus a space heater, so I made it through the day just a little chilled. Of course, I stayed late because so did my boss, and I couldn't leave at my regular time when she knew how late I was and I did have a ton of work to do to prepare for being off two days next week and when I finally left, it was just me and my boss leaving together and just UGH UGH UGH, I am exhausted.

ANYWAY. I didn't post songs yesterday, so here, two Hanukkah songs for you today:

Oh Hanukah, by Moe.

In the Embryo of Silence by Peter Himmelman

And now my bed is calling my name.

Tags: complaining, holiday songs '09
Current Mood: exhausted

<3 ZzZzZzZz... --Kaja <3

Jack Bauer interrogates Santa Claus.

This is the second-funniest thing on YouTube (just behind the Muppets' "Bohemian Rhapsody" and just ahead of me, Peter David, and Bob Greenberger backing up George Takei singing "Seven Lonely Days").

Current Mood: amused
Current Music: "Ball of Confusion" by Love & Rockets

http://www.newsfromme.com/archives/2009_12_17.html#018209

Foreign Policy magazine picks The 10 Worst Predictions for 2009. I'm kinda bummed that mine about the Washingon Nationals winning the World Series didn't make the list....

...but did they actually announce fan favorite? I watched it on Amazon...and unless I'm crazy...they never said...

http://www.somethingpositive.net/sp12092009.shtml

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If there are any problems with the comic or website, or if you have any questions, comments, or complaints you would like to address directly to Randy, please email him at choochoobear@gmail.com.

http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ICanHasCheezburger/~3/cyPNS_pAamU/

http://icanhascheezburger.com/?p=219885

Too many 12-hour days -- in at 6 AM, an hour lunch, out at 7 PM or later. I'm fried. Not keeping up with mail, LJ, etc. Sorry about that. One more day in Columbus, then off to Oregon on Saturday. Fortunately, the flight on Saturday isn't until about 3 PM, so I can sleep in a bit on Saturday morning before packing.

Tags: health, work
Current Location: Columbus, Ohio
Current Mood: exhausted

http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheComicsCurmudgeon/~3/e1FvJ8ZsuTo/

http://joshreads.com/?p=5172

Dennis the Menace, 12/17/09

I hereby request demand that Dennis the Menace be renamed Henry Mitchell the Lascivious, Menacing Pervert, as today he appears to be insisting that Dennis ensure that sexily emaciated 15-year-old baby-sitter Chloe remain in the Mitchell family employ. I’d say that Henry was merely planning to teach Dennis about sexual objectification early, or perhaps that he had found a new star for his masturbatory reveries, but yesterday we saw him making time at the mall with some non-wife person, so clearly he plans some unseemly, legally actionable advance. This panel is by far the most distasteful thing on today’s comics page.

Mary Worth, 12/17/09

By comparison, today’s Mary Worth is positively innocent, though I do require that Wilbur keep both hands where we can see them. This is literally the twelfth consecutive day Wilbur has spent parked in front of his computer, and many of us were beginning to despair that we’d ever seem a flashback, so today’s sexy thought balloon about Wilbur’s lost love is something of a breath of fresh air, even if it is juxtaposed with a facial expression of Spock-like seriousness. C’mon Wilbur, who could have resisted that pearl necklace, that frilly collar, that fringy jacket? It was the sort of outfit that drove men wild, on whatever alternate-universe 1970s Earth where someone might have actually worn it!

Dick Tracy, 12/17/09

I would like to point out that that the alienating, inhumanely scaled architecture on display in the second panel of today’s Dick Tracy nicely parallels the alienation between long-haired father and long-haired son. I’d also like to point out that, if you want your rage-frenzied classical orchestra conductor dad to stop hitting you, you probably shouldn’t refer to violins as “fiddles.”

Ziggy, 12/17/09

In case you’re wondering what this is about: this is what this is about! I’d like to add that I dearly hope that comics editors really do go work wearing a suit and tie, and that they sit behind a large, imposing desk, and that, when they ask hairless, half-naked weirdos to maybe put on some pants, they do so with an expression that shows that they speak more from sorrow than from anger.