The RNC has a couple ads out listing positive words that start with “RE” (like REjuvenate and REfresh) ending with the word “REpublican”. I think the ads are supposed to encourage me to link Republicans with positive things, but for for every positive “RE” word listed on the poster, I can think of at least four negatives ones. I suppose the ad is quite relevant though, considering “re” usually implies having to do something over again because it wasn’t done correctly the first time.

But still, Talula Does The Hula From Hawaii? Eurgh.

I was perusing the line-up for Creamfields, since we’ll actually be in in England this Summer. It went something like this:
Erick Morillo- cool, cool…2mandydjs -nice….Oooo! Pendulum!….Fatboy Slim, of course, of course….Yacht… YACHT?! as in YACHT?
Boo. Down with Yacht.

This is the third Moses related post I’ve posted in the past 2 days. It’s more because he’s a willing camera victim than the fact that I may/may not be something of a cat lady in her early stages.

I just thought I’d share this to document Moses sleeping like a human being: under the covers with his head on a pillow. I’m sure that this will gross a lot of people out, but it’s really not that bad to wake up with a little fur ball tucked around your neck.

He also squints a lot when he wakes up.

My parents got us these lovely, giant mugs from this shop by the Centre Georges Pompidou. I can’t bring myself to drink soup from mugs (drinking soup repulses me for some reason) so we fill them with stupid amounts of hot chocolate and drink that instead. A little cream doesn’t hurt.

Growing up, my house was always peppered with international visitors. Cubans, Germans, Russians, Chinese, American. One time when I was out gallavanting with friends, I got a text from Rachel alerting me to new house-guests. All the text said was: “The Russians are coming!” which I thought funny. Andy and I don’t exactly have a house of international guests, but if you count Bardhi (GO KOSOVO!) and our new arrival Nicola (RULE BRITTANIA!) then we’re well on our way.
Anyway, this is Nicola:

Nicola has known me since I was seven years old. She’s one of few people who remembers me as a bespectacled child who wore hair scrunchies, and the only person I’ve ever known to ask for ‘Sprite on the Rocks’ at a McDonalds.

Photo from Zen77990.

Last night I dreamt that I was in some sort of urban looking underground mechanics shop where a wrestler in a steam room was trying to contact me through thick glass. Then I noticed some choreography going on in the gym where girl went to watch video aerobics, which I thought was stupid since video aerobics are for people who do aerobics at home, not in a gym. Then, I was met with a fuchsia lipped Indian girl in a garage, who‘s name began with an R, who said “What if cancer treatments didn’t hurt? Then what?” before running down some perforated steel stairs. You know, the kind that would grate you like a soft cheese if you fell on them? Then I was outside in a rocky lagoon, with some dude (and he was a dude) in board-shorts toting a really expensive camera looking for golden mushrooms (Mario Kart perma-shrooms). Then I extracted a long strand of grass from left eye before watching a film about a religious man who turned into George Washington on a hovercraft attacking some civil war re-enactors. Analyse THAT, Freud.