Brain Barf

May contain traces of nuts.

Sunday, October 31, 2004


I need an intervention.
I called in the Mommy-trick-or-treating-tax and now....oh'm praying for the first time in 11 years.
Please help me oh Lard, lard that will soon be added to my ass if I don't receive assistance (funny, assistance starts with ass). YES please help my ASS. I'm a worthy cause?
I really can't afford to pay property taxes on a new ass land mass.
Please someone take the delightfulness of orgasmic butterfingers away from my butter fingers and away from my oral orifice.
Stop the madness!
SO much is at stake here. Please help me save my ass. Or soon I will be saying "Save the Whales" from a personal perspective.
Please can I got back to my pre-Halloween naivete?
Help me, or my ass will hog all of the gravity and you will just fly off of the earth. sickness speaks and says "MORE BUTTERFINGERS FOR ME." Me as, "Jabba the Butterfinger is looking mighty tempting".
Oh, the path is short from mouth to ass mass.
If a butterfinger latte' is invented, ALL HOPE IS LOST.
Please....please, bring duct tape and Tampons.

Wednesday, October 27, 2004

Centrum Silver

These people won’t even come out of their rooms for activities.
These people wear their Mr. Rogers sweaters to dinner in the middle of the summer when it is 115 degrees because they are cold.
A few of these people are legally blind.
These people are between 58 and on Nov. 1st 101 years of age.
These people blew my mind tonight.

One of these peoples came out to the nurse’s station and asked where the eclipse was. I said, “I’m not sure (hellifIno) let’s go look”. We went, we looked and she said “I wonder if *Elaine would like to see this?”
24 out of 30 residents later, in the cold Eastern Washington air, my lesson was learned.

*Bob, said, “I’ve never seen an eclipse before!”
Keri said, “You are 90 years old, a retired Washington State Senator an Attorney, where have you been?”
*Bob said, “I guess I must have been sleeping.”

Legally blind *Joe said, after he waddled outside with his penguin walk, “Corey (damn, that is close enough for me, and I may just abduct you), if I lean my head to the side and look out the corner of my left eye, I can kind of see a bright spot.”
Keri said, “This is just the beginning of the eclipse, the bright spot is the part of the moon that hasn’t yet been covered by the earths shadow, the part of the moon that is in the earths shadow is a dark brown/red/rusty color and you can really see the outline of the moon and all of the moon spots and in about 3 more hours the moon will start to look like herself again.”
Joe said, “That sounds nice.”

*Mary Jane said, “It’s freezing, I’m going in.”
Keri said, “let me go with you to shut off the front door alarm when your wander guard goes off.”

*William who owns a kick ass Jack-O-lope said, “this reminds me of when Mt. St. Helens erupted and the whole state went dark.”
Keri said, “ I want to scan those photos you have of the eruption sometime William, they are amazing, they don’t even look real, they look like a painting.”

*Rose, the sick lady who hadn’t gotten out of bed in two days said, “Please stand closer to me, I’m cold, but this is just too fascinating.”

*Melvin said, “Thank you so much for coming and getting me, I’ve never seen an eclipse.”
Keri said, “You betcha, I’ll come and get you in 2007.”

*Zelda said, “I’ve forgotten why are we all standing out here, it’s very cold?”
Keri said, “Let me walk you in.”

*Names changed to protect some of my mostest favoritest people on the planet.

Most of these people have 60 years on me.
Tonight they were awed children.
THAT is my lesson learned.

Tuesday, October 26, 2004

Maise not malaise.

With all the talk of the gourmet dishes my fellow bloggers have partaken of ( I say partaken exclusively for Phoebe), I thought I would share a few of my own gourmet delights and recipes.
My most recent new dish was my own invented Salmon Chowder.
Let me just say that sex is fighting for first on my list after this Salmon Chowder. I got the idea from Ivars( a Seattle area restaurant), and made my own recipe up, and now Ivars can kiss my keister(no really Ivars I'll be back I'm totally teasing).
The recipe:
Make a batch of my Grandma's Potato soup
Add some celery
Add some dill weed.
Add some fish sauce (you can buy this at Viet Wah on Rainier avenue in Seattle)
Add some real salmon, none of that farmed shit, I broiled mine first with garlic and butter, 10 minutes per inch.
Lotsa pepper.
Scarf until content.

I don't eat pork (oh gawd even typing PORK makes me heevy)
I rarely eat red meat (I'm already a mad cow)
I do still eat some chicken and turkey (because I need some fucking protein!)
But fish and out, Ima hungry!

For breakfast today I had Candy Corn and Coffee, the corn was from this year, but still delightful. Crisp on the outside and soft on the inside. The coffee was fresh ground and brewed with the first cup taken black and the second with french vanilla.
For lunch I stuck to my diet and only ate candy corn.
For dinner it was candy corn and Corona (omyfuckingorgasmiccoronawithlime).
I did variate a little today with my candy corn recipe. I bit the bottoms off of them and stuck them on my front teeth and had fangs for awhile.
If you need the actual recipe for this......then please seek counseling.
I can recommend a few good ones, but their slots are filled Wednesday from 1pm -2pm.

Sunday, October 24, 2004

~tap~tap~ Is this thing on?

Ya'll were just spared.
I just performed a "Classic Keri Alcohol Induced GLORIOUS Type and Erase" (CKAIGTE, yeah I know, enough with the fucking acronyms already).
Emotionally charged with a "not even on the same planet as politically correct" and a side of estrogen.
Feel free to thank me.

Thursday, October 21, 2004

ROW ya bastards!!

I will find you.
I will smell you out neighbor who lit their fireplace!!
DO NOT admit defeat.
That mother nature bitch is WATCHING.
Sing with me fuckers! ~We're havin' a heat wave...a tropical heat wave~
It's forty seven sweltering degrees outside!! Time to go swimming!
Right after I glue all of the leaves back on my trees.

Tuesday, October 19, 2004

You tell me?

Because I'm willing to learn here...
My first instinct is to horse laugh until the blood veins in my eyeballs burst while laying on the floor in a puddle of my own urine because all muscle control has ceased function, but that may not be the exact right response. (I'm the parent, I'm the parent, I'm the parent, not the sibling, not the sibling, not the sibling).
Is there a right answer/response when you look up from your book and your 5 year old twin boys are chasing each other though the house, pants off, shooting each other with their guns/penis'?
What I really said was, "put your guns back in your pants and quit shooting your brother."
It is very difficult to type while laying on the floor with wet pants and burst blood veins, you have just shared in the joys of wireless keyboards.

Sunday, October 17, 2004

Four Bores and 7 hours ago.

I bought a rat.
I am now an official Rat Owner. (RO) She (because I looked thats why) is white and peachy colored.
Now I have dated many a Human Rat (HR, yeah yeah I know,enough of the acronyms), but I never thought that I would be an actual RO.
There was significant amounts of coersion and offspring whining involved, but deep down I may secretly enjoy being a RO.
Her name is Jack Rat. I know, I know, fuck off.... but it was better than Templeton Snuggles.
I don't know what it is about me, but I attract and am attracted to needly helpless thingy majiggers, especially when they are soft and furry and cute and fuzzy and I have no willpower against soft and furry and cute and fuzzy things.
For those of you that have not of yet grasped the concept of mammals (phlegmface), aka soft and furry and cute and fuzzy creatures, living in a household....PISS off, you are not the Messiah, you are just a naughty boy!
My house has and will NEVER smell of dog or rat.
OH, and like the smell of human is any better.
Now Petunia (my Mini Viener Vorshtel dog) has defecated her brains out today because she firmly believes that if she shits enough, that the rat will be her treat.
Petunia has spent the majority of the day sitting on the !leather sofa! staring at the Jack rat cage. When staring gets fruitless she commences digging. Digging!! Digging in one spot with her belief that if she can dig through the hard wood floors that the RAT WILL BE HERS.

Saturday, October 16, 2004


Move along. Nothing to see here.

Thursday, October 14, 2004

The Evans Method

Disclaimer: This is not an attempt to pull someone out of their postal mood that they may or may not be in.
This is merely a bow, to a beautiful, beautiful mind that posted this work of art.

The Evans Method.
I have spent the last two days at an off-site meeting for work – the kind where they drag the whole team to a frigid hotel conference room and subject us to a litany of boring PowerPoint presentations and stale chocolate chip cookies. Fortunately, the meeting was in a city 45 minutes from my home, which meant I had an hour and a half each day of prime nose-picking time on the freeway.
I am really, really good at picking my nose. If there was a professional nose picking league, I would be its Michael Jordan. To the chagrin and horror of Hot Wife, I have mastered my own proprietary technique for removing any and all mucus-based obstructions from my nasal airway. The patent for The Evans Method is still pending, but I will describe it in as much detail as possible without involving lawyers.
1. The Evans Method involves the use of two fingers: the index finger for larger, more accessible intruders and the pinky finger for harder-to-get rafter-dwellers.
2. Begin by inserting the index finger with the palm of your hand aimed toward your face. The index finger should be used initially as a probe. Can you feel any uninvited guests? If so, is their consistency “Original Recipe” or “Extra Crispy?” This calculation is absolutely critical.
3. If you detect a slimy, original recipe booger, abort The Evans Method and grab a Kleenex. ORBs (Original Recipe boogers) are devastatingly unpredictable and threaten to end up on your upper lip or (God forbid) in your mouth if not handled properly.
4. The detection of an ECB (Extra Crispy Booger) initiates Phase II of The Evans Method. Still using the index finger, pin the offending mucus against the nasal wall and rotate your finger and palm outward. After ensuring that you have a secure grasp, slide the ECB down and out of the nasal cavity. Roll it into a ball between your thumb and forefinger and flick it out the window of your vehicle.
5. In the event that the ECB escapes your grasp and flees northward toward your brain, remove your index finger, wipe it on your shirt and insert your pinky into the same nostril. Given its thinner, more streamlined shape, the pinky can access the farthermost regions of the nostril without stretching it out like the hoo-hoo of a mother giving birth. Continue as you did in Step 3.
6. If an ECB flees too far north and becomes inaccessible via digital proboscis, resort to the Snot Rocket technique. Pinch closed the unaffected nostril with your index finger, aim your head away from small children or open flames, and blow your nose into the air. If executed properly, the offending snot will blast out of your nose and into the atmosphere. This technique has been perfected by professional athletes worldwide.
I invite you to order my exciting new audiotape series, “The Evans Method: How To Get Up There Where It’s Pink,” which is available exclusively to Human Writes readers for three easy installments of $19.95. I am also available for private consultations.

Wednesday, October 13, 2004

Long overdue link, and goopy stuff from John.

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My name is John. Over the past couple of years I have
begun exploring photography. My eye is drawn to
patterns and water and strong contrasts. It’s been
quite interesting to explore this part of my brain
because I am very logical and thoughtful in my work.
Photography for me is very open and free flowing with
no beginning or end, just simply moment after moment
after moment captured through my camera.
Completely aside from photography, I have decided to volunteer in
Guyana, South America for a year and possibly two. I
will live in a very rural village, working with a
local non profit organization which promotes a variety
of sustainable development initiatives. My work will
bring me to many villages in a variety of natural
settings. I will find many personal and professional
challenges there, but also of interest will be to see
what moments I will capture with my camera.
Keri asked me to write this I think to help introduce my
photographs to you. I love all the photos I display
and whether you like them or not, I hope you enjoy
looking at them. You are always welcome to tell me
about your reactions to the moments I capture.
I am very grateful to Keri for helping me name some of
them. She sees things that I simply would have never
thought of.
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Sunday, October 10, 2004

Random rain in Spain.

  • Isn't the number one pure absolute joy of being a canine is the fact that you can lick your own ass? If so, then where does that leave the wiener dog, with a back so long, that she cannot reach her own ass? That's right, get along little doggy.
  • Am I merely a product of my upbringing? Are my beliefs less because they have been warped by the cells (jail) of my youth?
  • I can refuse to believe in a "God" or "Creator" on the pure basis of when taking the human body into consideration, there are just too damn many flaws. Or wait, maybe God is on crack.
  • Does E really equal MC hammer and his fucking square?
  • There ARE toenails that are too thick (and yellow) to be cut with regular clippers. I can provide photographic evidence if necessary.
  • If the SeaHawks play like they did today, next week against New England (nice record) I may just have to start telling people I'm from Canada.
  • A "Guest House", can also sometimes be a "Love Shack".
  • It's only OK to consume mass quantities of garlic, if those around you consume mass quantities of garlic, there ISN'T any other OPTION.


Friday, October 08, 2004


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One definition of family according to Webster is: Two or more people who share goals and values, have long-term commitments to one another, and reside usually in the same dwelling place. With this definition, "family" could mean an internet Bulletin Board, or a blogger site or an assisted living facility, yes?
Pardon me while I reflect for a bit. Or don't...Whatever suits ya.
One of my most memorable residents, maybe not favorite because she annoyed the holy shit out of me on some days, was a lady named "Amy" (named changed to protect the dead).
She had severe short term memory loss and would repeat the same stories over and over and over and over and over and over....and well, you get the idea.
When I first started working at assisted living, she told me her stories for the first time (to me anyway).
One of them was about her house, and HOW she missed her own little home, and where it was (two blocks away from my current home) and the home improvements her and her husband had made to the house, and the children she had raised there, and her dog who would jump off of the forbidden rocking chair the second that he heard their car pull in the driveway, but when they came in they knew where he had been because the chair was still rocking, and how one day her husband just sat on the edge of the bed and died.
Her children rarely if ever visited and her main contact outside of assisted living was a semi-caring-granddaughter.
What a tailspin her stories sent me into at the time.
This was her life story, and would/will probably be very similar to my life story. So what is the point? Especially for us females if you look at the ratios of men to women in long term care facilities. The men bail out early. They die on us. Fuckers.
Oh yes, the point. What IS THE POINT?? If you say "just live your life to the fullest and make a difference to those around you" I will vomit on your shoes.
I don't know the point. I've given up on trying to be eloquent and understanding and knowledgeable and just in general giving a fuck.
It hasn't served me very well to date, so if it's not working then try something else, right?
I have decided to adopt a "don't give a fuck" attitude.
I'll let you know how it goes. Wait, no I won't because...I don't give a fuck.
This is all foreign territory for me, so I'll have to take baby don't give a fuck steps.
Please, if you see me, and I look like I care, please remind me that I don't give a fuck.

Thursday, October 07, 2004

Internal dialogue.

Brain: You're not really going to do that are you?
Self: Well yeah, I think I am.
Brain: But are you serious?
Self: Yes, It's something that should be done.
Brain: That's pretty big talk Keri.
Self: What you think I won't?
Brain: I think it's just another small self lie, in another empty cause.
Self: Or maybe it's just time to quit fucking around?
Brain: Or maybe you just excel at self deception?
Self: That's possible.
Brain: Well I hate to be a negative bore, so let me know what happens.
Self: Oh, I'm quite sure you'll be the first to know.

Tuesday, October 05, 2004

OK Mr.Mercury...

If this isn't real life and it's just fantasy, then I think I need to get
some DOG DAMN better FUCKING dreams!!!!!!!
If all I have to do is eat the Cosmic Karmic Cookie that's fine, but Jeezy Kreezy these fucking cookies get dry sometimes without a little wine.
WHEN I am going to wise up....WHEN?? (probably when I choose to).
I have a hard time drawing the line between being a, a nice human and saying NO, and get the fuck off my property!!!!!!
Fuckin' drama, I'm pulling the shades, locking the doors and will be in my closet rocking to and fro with my tinfoil hat on.

~I wrote this ^ before I went to work today~ I was having a shit on a biscuit day.
So bad that I tried to call one of my sisters, and she answered and just the sound of her voice made me cry, and I had to hang up.
It was bad folks. BAD.
OK not that bad. Everyone is still alive.
BUT a couple repairmen did get a free titty show today while they were "repairing" something, ON MY PROPERTY without my knowledge and it WASN'T broken (I gotta stop yelling) and the item they decided to fix was right by my bathroom/shower window (as in where the FUCKING shower is), this window is part of my house that was built in 1948 and IT IS CLEAR (as in FUCKING crystal transparent)!! Which is normally fine because my guest house blocks all views, unless someone decides to trespass on my property WITHOUT permission,(redundant but I'm still a little pissed) and then the show is on, as it was today.
I was embarrassed at first, I was showering (I'm not open to teasing on this) and didn't know anyone was outside until I heard voices, and I looked out and I'm eye to titt with a "repairman" HOLY shit, it scared me, like cold chill pukey type of scare.
Of course they continued to stand there.
I KNOCKED on the window (wrapped up in my shower curtain now) and pointed at the one that was staring and did a little turn around gesture with my finger while yelling (because I wasn't mad YET) YOU NEED TO GO AWAY! (why is this the best I could come up with at the time?)
You think that's the end of the story right? NO, one of the guys WOULDN'T leave....
This is from the chick who can't handle people looking at her in Wal-Mart fully clothed.
oh wait...OOOoommmmnnnnn...
I decided not to vent about this because I came home from work (after my mini-pre-work breakdown) and my sis had dropped off Mums (for me to plant) a card (for me to read) chocolate cake (for me to scarf) and Beer (damn this chick knows me).
None of this shit was in my horoscope today. WTF!?!?

Monday, October 04, 2004

Life doesn't get much better than this.

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Sunday, October 03, 2004

Doesn't everyone bathe with sunglasses on?

My future comic strip.
Super Spic and Cracker Chick (SSCC).
Super Spic comes from Mexico. He is an illegal alien employed by the US government. His super powers come from his Mullet, the smell of Tuna, Tequila, Habaneras and Santana.
He is able to swim wide expansive rivers. His Father farms Blue Agave. His mother deals in natural “herbs”. He can produce a green card from corn tortillas and thin air. Super Spic saves the world in his low riding El Camino.
Super Spic can produce toxic farts on demand and consume mass amounts of bean burritos, not necessarily in that order.

Cracker Chick comes from Texas. She is able to ride 8 seconds. She is an indigenous person employed by the local K-Mart. Her Father is a Grand Dragon in the KKK and her mother is a Mormon Scout Master. Her super powers come from her Mullet, the smell of Tuna, super sized Big Macs, Bruce Springstein and the cars parked in her front yard. She can produce an Uzi with sheer will. Cracker Chick saves the world in her jacked up 85’ Chevy S-10.
Cracker Chick can produce toxic belch's on demand and consume mass amounts of “near beer” not necessarily in that order.
They communicate between the “Picante phone and the Coors cam.
Their evil archenemies include John Kerry, George Bush, Michael Jackson, and his Catholic Priest cohorts.
Super Spic and Cracker Chick can smell a Dogmatic Doobie from across the border.
They are both employed by a super secret International agency (ANUS) Allied Neurotically Underestimated Squad.

Feel free to add.
(You all know I am the least prejudiced person on the planet, that is why this is SO fucking funny).