I can has grape now pls?

Tweaker and the Brick went on their first full on playtime excursion today. For those of you who don't know much about them, let me in brief impress upon you what a momumentous occurance this was. when I got them, they had never been outside of the cage, and had never been handled outside of experimentation in class. They had several very bad quirks, such as absolutely refusing to leave the cage voluntarily, obsessing over water, and refusing to eat treats. Because of this, it was impossible to ever interact with them.

I've been trying though. Recently, I've gotten them to enter and leave the cage voluntarily, and since they've learned what treats are positive reinforcement has gotten a lot easier.I decided it was probably time for them to have an official rats play time, so spent about 45 minutes rat proofing my room. This involves removing bad things that they would like to chew on, such as electrical wires or some of my more precious books. I also sealed off of the places under my desk that lead to the back of my computer.

Here are the results of playtime. The toilet paper tube contains red grapes, which they had just been introduced to earlier that day.


"Yo, bro, check out over here!"


"I wuv oo!"


Unfortunately, I didn't think about the trash can when I rat-proofed the room.


And then they found the grapes. Note how the tube moves across the bed-- they kept trying to steal it from each other.


Note where the grape is... (This is The Brick.)


I love his little ratty arms. (Still The Brick.)


"Victolly!"


Here is Tweaker with a sympathy grape.

I am so mean.

Me: *walks into office, sniffs*
Me: "You went for a smoke."
91: "Yes, I did."
Me: "You smell like my grandpa."
91: "Does he smoke cigars?"
Me: "No."
Me: "That should worry you."

*pause*

Dispatcher: *Bursts into hysterical laughter*

Ah, priorities

Today I was so thrilled about having freshly aired bike tires to cruise to work on that I forgot to put on a bra.

Sometimes the human race astounds me

It's very warm and sunny outside today. Because of this, as I am leaving from locking up the Science Center, the light has ample opportunity to strike my blue and orange hair and give my head a radioactive aura. I highly doubt, however, that it was bright enough to actually prevent you, sir, from seeing the uniform. Or the belt. Or the radio.

Seriously. So why did you ask "Do you work for Security?"

1) No.

2) No, I'm actually a professional dominatrix, and the professor I work for has just gone home for the day.

3) No, today is National Look Like a Security-Person Day! Want a cool plastic radio?

4) I did until right this moment.

5) Hold on, let me radio base and ask my boss.

6) Well, thank you for causing me an existential crisis. Allow me to go ponder the meaning of my life beneath that shady tree.

7) I may look like I work with the man, but I'm really a member of a secret rebel alliance whose sole purpose is to bring insecurity and havoc to this very parking lot.

8) *bursts into tears*

9) No, I just like wearing heavy black cotton pants in June.

10) Nope. Not enough penis.

*sighs*

And you, Mr. Construction Worker. Sleazing past me with a push-dolly, grinning, and saying "Hurr, I stole this" was not funny. Me grinning back, bouncing, and saying "OMIGOD, CONGRATULATIONS!!" sure was, tho.

Jackass.

This was long overdue.

I have been holding off making a Sims post here because I know so few of you play. However, I believe the recent hijinks are weird enough to keep you all entertained-- and quite possibly wondering why I play the game at all.

I don't know how many of you remember my attempts to make a WrenSim last summer. I did end up making one, and put her into play. I haven't played her much, however, because in all honesty I find it slightly creepy to watch myself live. Go figure. But, I do see her around a lot, as she is friends with many of my Sims, and also has taken an unusual liking to a local park. Par for the course, right? Well, I certainly hope not!

Because I never play her, I have no idea why this happened, but I can say with absolute certainty that the WrenSim has gone insane. As in, collapsed on the floor of a store, giggling madly and rocking back and forth insane. As in, little men in white coats coming to take her away insane. That's right. I watched myself go crazy. (Needless to say, I will be remaking the WrenSim.)

Then again, there may be something in the water of this neighborhood. For example, I give to you the hijinks that ensued between the Hikari and the Thane families. The Hikari family had a couple of children that I wanted to become teenagers, so I left the game running while I was packing the house up. I leave them alone for about 30 minutes, and come back to find that the Hikari wife has started an affair with the Thane husband. Alright, fine. Until I realize that they're having sex in a car outside of a bowling alley. Not so fine.

It gets better. The Hikari wife becomes pregnant with the Thane husband's child. I happen to like the Hikari husband, so I don't want her random adultery to come to light. Unfortunately, the Hikari family is quite Japanese, while the Thane family is quite Anglo-Saxon. It's not going to be that easy to hide a half-Japanese child.

Luckily, the Hikari husband is an idiot. The dark-haired, pale-skinned, green-eyed, freckled child is born, and he loves him. Never catches on. Everyone else knows, but oh no. "Daddy" is oblivious. Meanwhile, mommy keeps having nightmares about getting caught.

Now that I think about it, it may just be the Thane family that's insane. Most of the hijinks I have to pass on deal with them in one way or another. Take their eldest legitimate daughter for example. She refuses to do her homework, does horribly in school, and becomes a quite maladjusted adult. (There was nothing I could do about it, I swear!) I decided she should marry the town founder, who is both old and rich. After all, she seems slated for the role of trophy wife. Unfortunately, she decides to leave him at the altar, which sends him into the fiery depths of fury. He keeps asking me to see her ghost, so I finally oblige and have her starve to death in the second story of their house (we are not discussing that). The day after she dies, he marries his maid.

...

There is nothing I can say to add to that story. It is both funny enough and horrible enough on its own. Buh.

Flash forward to tonight. The Thane wife gets caught cheating on the Thane husband in their own bedroom. He kicks her on the street, and she promptly moves in with another man whom she works with (my doing). The Hikari wife decides to take this chance to take her half-Japanese son and move in with the Thane husband (also my doing).

Oddly enough, I think everyone is happy now. Except the youngest legitimate Thane daughter, who has no nose. I'm not kidding. And I'm definitely not letting her breed with any other Sims. She clearly has some sort of flesh-eating disease that she will pass on to the next generation if I'm not careful.

more Wren Prevention

I finally managed to cut down on my soda intake. When I moved into this apartment, I had an epiphany -- if there is no soda in the house, there is none for me to drink. Shocking, I know, but it has been very effective. I've gone as many as four days without having soda this way. In fact, I've given myself two withdrawal migraines.

I've also figured out how to keep myself from obsessively eating bagels when I buy them. You see, bagels freeze rather well, so I buy eight of them, freeze four of them, and am forced to wait for the others to thaw out before I can use them. So far, it has worked rather well.

The same thing goes for cookie dough. If I have it in the house, I will live off of it. But, if it is frozen into 4 1-serving portions, I will eat it slowly.

I'm getting rather good at this.

Dear Lawnmowers:

DO NOT WANT.

No love,
some of us work nights!

post flood!

Today I made the mistake of doing laundry while on the phone with Matt J. It would not have been a mistake had Comic House Matt not also been there. I was having a perfectly normal conversation about how Matt J. needed a haircut because he looked like he had a dead ferret on his scalp when I reached into the washer to grab some wet clothing. Without paying much attention, I took a pile of laundry the six steps to the dryer and started loading it. All of a sudden, I hear Matt L. began to giggle hysterically from his bedroom. I look to my right.

There is a long string of elastic stretching from the washing machine to my hands, and hanging from it in the middle like a confused bungee jumper is a bright pink set of briefs. I also start giggling hysterically.

Wren: "Oh, wow, I think the washing machine just ate a pair of my panties! There is elastic all over the place, and my panties are hanging in the air."
Phone: "..."
Matt L: *laughs hysterically*
Wren: *starts pulling on the elastic coming from the washer*
Elastic: *keeps coming from washer*
phone: "..."
Wren: *starts walking toward Matt L.'s door, bringing long string of elastic with*
Elastic: *stretches from washer to door, all the way down the hall.*
Wren: "And people wonder why I found underwear in my computer fans."
Matt L: *still laughs hysterically*

Cue two minutes of me pulling at elastic in a vain attempt to get all of this under control. Throughout this entire debacle, Matt J has been utterly silent on the phone. The two of us in the apartment, however, cannot stop laughing.

I finally get all of the elastic out of the washer, give the panties up as a lost cause, toss them in the trash, and attempt to salvage my conversation with Matt J.

Wren: "I'm okay, I'm okay."
Phone: "I really don't think you're okay."
Wren:*bursts into hysterical laughter and collapses on the washing machine*
Phone: "See?"

One hour later.

Matt L: "oh, there's a pair of panties in the trash."
Matt L: *pause*
Matt L: *throws garlic on top of them and walks away*

I thought about the oddest things while getting my MRI

For some reason, being stuck in a narrow plastic tube while the aural equivalent of a bunch of troglodytes with clubs and rocks bashed about my ears and spine made me think of Hawaii. Because of this, today I accidentally pinpointed the exact day I discovered I was a nicer person that my mother. (Before the snide remarks start, remember that the operative words here are than my mother.)

We were driving to our house, and my mother spotted one of our neighbors mowing the lawn. In gym shorts, a Hawaiian shirt, a medical facemask, and enormous dirt biker goggles. My mother starts laughing hysterically, grins at me and says "someone needs to tell that man about fashion sense." I pause, look at him, and say "mom, I think he just has allergies." She goes quiet, looks at him, and then stares at me. "... that never would've crossed my mind."

She was definitely right about that one.

This is shaping up to be the best summer I've had in a long time.

Periodically over the years we have lived together, the members of Comic House have come up with shirts we felt we simply must create. My all-time favorite was the "Mr. Peen and the Vay-Jay-Jays" band shirt (which I still have every intention of designing), but at Matt's birthday dinner we came up with one that ... well, it may be the best thing ever.

THE HOMOSEXUAL AGENDA: Keeping children Play-doh free since 1983!

Yes, I will explain. We discovered at a table of two gay men, a bisexual male and female, and two straight females that there was a direct correlation between the amount of Play-doh eaten as a child and the consumer's resultant sexuality. People with no exposure to Play-doh, or those who never ate it, were gay. Those who ate it once or twice were bi. And those who thought it was a bedtime snack were straight.

Intrigued, we all asked our circles of friends how much Play-doh they had eaten as children, and the vast majority of the answers have followed this trend.

I, for one, find this to be amazingly awesome.

Ironically, you were exactly right.

"Want to come over?"
"Yes, but I'm grumpy. I'll just say something to piss you off and then we'll both be unhappy."

You're grumpy? I've had electricity shot through half my muscles, needles stabbed into me while I flexed, metal rasps run over the bottoms of my feet. I have been poked, prodded, stretched, and intentionally caused pain for the sake of diagnosis. I have spent most of the day scared and stressed out. And you don't want to come over and keep me company while I pass out because you are grumpy?


How nice.

Well, at least I'll know.

I have an appointment with a neurologist tomorrow at 1 to discuss my arm issues and possibly get an EMG. For those of you who don't know what that test implies, look it up. And then send me spirit vibes.

At least we're getting closer to figuring out what the hell is wrong with me.

I am going to feel squicky for the rest of the night

Q. What's worse than finding a spider the size of a quarter on the wall by your bed when you get home from work?
A: Finding the remains of the moth it had just consumed all over your sheets.

The apartment is lovely

And I am almost completely done unpacking.

Come visit us!