variations on a bad habit

Hello, dear readers. You may be wondering why it has taken me so long to post here. The thing is, not much has happened between my last post and now, so it’s not like I’ve been putting this off. Nope! But this is a nice segue into  the subject of today’s post: those despicable people who put off doing things that they’re supposed to do. The scum of the earth! We appear in many forms:

the procrastineater

The procrastineater empties her dresser to smoothe out the wrinkles in her clothes. Not with an iron, though. That’s too much of a commitment. The procrastineater uses speedy Japanese folding techniques, then packs up her clothes very economically so that her drawers can finally close.

the procrastineater, II

The procrastineater, II eats when he thinks he’s bored because he thinks he has nothing to do. But really the procrastineater is trying to trick us all — and worse, himself! — by appearing to be busy with his mouth full of popcorn EVEN THOUGH THERE IS NO MOVIE PLAYING.

the procrastiknitter

The procrastiknitter sits at her computer before a blank Word document. But make no mistake! She’s never merely sitting. She’s procrastiknitting, while admiring beautiful knit objects on ravelry.

Here are some of her more recent procrastiknit objects:

garish blue coat
a garish blue coat
an ugly green sweater, complete with giant pockets and elbow patches
an ugly green sweater, complete with giant pockets and elbow patches

So she might miss some deadlines, but only by a few hours. At least we know that she and her friends will be warm this winter.

the procraftinator

The procraftinator insists that making arts and crafts is a Basic Human Right. The procraftinator believes that non-procraftinators are soulless capitalist automatons whose values are askew because they have no idea how to “let loose,” “have fun,” and “be creative.” The procraftinator’s living room is filled with an astonishing collexion of procraftinated artefacts. The stench of wet paint crossed with molding papier-mâché paste tinges the air.

See: your weird neighbour who needs a shower. Also: this guy.

the procrastinasty

procrastinasty hello kitty
Can you spot the nasty face? Isn’t she too young to be procrastinasty?

The procrastinasty treat their friends horribly not because they’re naturally inclined to hurt the ones they love, but because they’re stressed out about all of the things they’re supposed to be doing but aren’t because they are PROCRASTINASTY.

the procrastinettor

middle click/control click
middle click/control click syndrome

The procrastinettor is a self-diagnosed chronic middle-clicker (or control+clicker). He has a million Wikipedia articles open in his browser. Does he read them all? It is a mystery. At least he appears to have good intentions of self-enlightenment.

the procrastinaked

The procrastinaked has nothing to wear because the laundry never got did.

So, dear reader, what are you ?? ? ? ???

sorry sorry to the winner of the first ever caption contest

Dear readers, I am sorry for leaving you in suspense for so long. Here is an apology I wrote twenty years ago,  whose sorrys still ring true today:

i added water
I really am very sorry.

I am sorry for taking so long to announce the winners of my first ever caption contest. Thank you to everybody who submitted captions. I liked them all! But these were my favourites, the ones that made me laughed the most (in no order at all):

i added water
I hear it tickles more than anything – “will”
i added water
this is not the bathing suit i pictured myself dying in – Lyndall
i added water
In typical noob fashion, Brent had filled the pool not with “water” but “cthulu” – Evan
i added water
“An Introduction to the Works of Sigmund Freud” – S.D.
i added water
Plank (>) Plonck (V ) Planktom (*) – Lawrence (my Dad)

Actually, the last caption didn’t make me laugh because I didn’t really get it at first.

Anyway, how will you enjoy the end of August?

Me, I will enjoy it with fantastic Neo Citran dreams. Bye!!!!

first ever caption contest

Hullo team,

Because I want my blog to be as interactive as possible, I am starting a… CAPTION CONTEST!!!!!!!! Yes! A caption contest! But this caption contest has a new and exciting twist!! Each image will be dedicated to a very special ~*friend*~!! That’s right! My caption contest will be full of inside jokes!!

OK, so this first post is dedicated to Tania! Here is the picture!!!:

i added water
Who will win the first ever caption contest ??? ?

You probably know the drill off the top of your head. Post your caption in the comments, and I will pick my favourite one in a week, when I upload my next picture!!!! Have a happy week guys! Especially you, Tania!!!!

saying goodbye to Flunckel

In light of some terrible thing that has befallen me, I have decided to dedicate a part of my website to my Former Left Knee Ligament, henceforth named: my FLUNCKEL.

RIP, Flunckel. I loved you though I didn’t know it. And now that you are gone, I no longer feel whole. You are gone, and you have left a flunckel-shaped hole in my knee.

Seriously, though. Today I met with the surgeon, “Dr. Ted.” First his “fellow,” “Dr. April,” told me that some of his hockey buddies still play hockey with no ACLs, because Dr. April loves to play his hockey three times a week. Then he called me a frisbee-playing “weekend warrior,” which I think is a terrible misnomer, because first of all, I can’t play Ultimate at ALL right now. Second, I would refer to myself as a weekend wimp, given that my weekends have consistently consisted of watching cartoons while eating chocolatey cereal in my underwear. Like a wimp. Then Dr. April said that I should probably get surgery. Then both of the doctors made a big deal of the laxity of my knee’s pivot.

Now for some good news. Hooray for muscle atrophy!!!! I can now easily slip my atrophied left leg into half of a pair of skinny jeans!

Pictures to come!

things i’ve knit

The other day I felt a very strange longing. And when I saw a cool dude wearing a toque to match his tight skinny pants and cool bicycle in this blazing hot 40 degree weather, I remembered that I haven’t knit anything since March (!!!!). So here is a post dedicated to some things I knit over the last year or so, under the desk at the back of the classroom when the teacher wasn’t looking.

a blue headband

a pair of green wristwarmers

a red blanket

I’M SORRY, BUT I REALLY HAVE TO INTERRUPT THIS POST FOR A SEC TO GET SOMETHING OFF MY CHEST. I know on Facebook I said, “if you comment on my blog i will give you something cool.” We all know that this was really just a cheap marketing ploy to get you clicking. But guess what??? It worked! I got 100 hits over three days!!!! And out of the 100 visits, 8 fantastic people left comments (Allie, Safia, Jessica, Kenny, Evan, Chiara, Ryan, Justin). That’s 8 percent. Now I can’t remember anything from that statistics course I faked my way through in second year, but I’m pretty sure 8 percent out of 100 is pretty ghastly.

(Don’t worry!!! This post is still about things I’ve knit!!!)

a grey hat

a stripy pink and turquoise hat

OH!! Here’s a thought. My suspicion is that I am Facebook friends with too many people that I’m not truly friends with. i.e. we don’t hang out in real life. So maybe you guys don’t feel like it is OK to comment on my ~intimate~ blog even though it was OK for you to click on my ~intimate~ link and show up in my Google Analytics.  Who are you, o visitors from Willowdale, Kimhae, Malaga, Singapore, Oxford, Cambridge, El Paso, Kassel, and Brisbane (oh wait, I do know the answer to the last one, o sender of that strange anonymous email)?

Let me please assure the other 92% of you that I will not think you weird/socially wrong/awkward/creepy if you leave a comment on here, even though I don’t really know you and you don’t really know me despite the fact that I have shown up in your Facebook feed. In fact, if you leave a comment, I will think you are really cool.

As for the Holy Eight (Allie, Safia, Jessica, Kenny, Evan, Chiara, Ryan, Justin), I am actually going to think up something cool to give you in thanks for your Internet-courage!!! So brace yourselves!!!

OK, now, onto the rest of my post (for real):

a bloated yellow bear

an emaciated pale pink bear

a crying fuschia bear

I was going to try to knit socks, but after making a baby trial sock (which wasn’t too terrible), I remembered that I hate wearing socks so I shouldn’t assume that anybody else likes to wear them, either.

DEAR READERS: What was the last thing you made?

from underneath the kitchen sink

From underneath the kitchen sink
there reeks a really awful stink
of offal skins and garbage juice
and other foodstuff with no use…

The fume’s so foul we end our meal;
our noodles, cold, have no appeal.

We hold our breath and clear the spread
although our guts have not been fed.
We wipe the counter, wet our hands,
and scrub the crusty pots and pans…

But oh, that smell is much too vile —
our senses aren’t so versatile!

We hunker down, crouch to the floor
and peer behind the cupboard door.
But what is this? What’s this we see?

My Uncle Jim peers back at me!

His hands are full of bones and meat,
of turkey wings and chicken feet.
His face, once handsome, now is marred
with grease and crud and sludge and lard.

We grab him by the collar — quick!
He struggles with a punch and kick!

Bring vinegar to clean the slime!
Abrasive sponge to scrub the grime!

Then Uncle Jim begins scream:
GIRLS, PUT ME BACK! I’M ON YOUR TEAM!

“What’s that?” we say; we are perplexed.
We let him free; he says this next:

Imagine rodents tucked beneath
the kitchen sink: their tiny teeth
do tear upon the bits of flesh,
left over from your dinner, fresh.

They sleep inside the kitchen drawer,
and scatter crumbs upon the floor,
leave trails of refuse in their wake,
NO THANKS FOR ALL THE FOOD THEY TAKE.

Would you prefer those mice to me?

Your Uncle Jim, who quietly
has seen that no food goes to waste,
so thankful for the glorious taste
of all the food you deem unfit,
discreetly in a napkin spit…

But don’t you know? All food’s divine!
To Uncle Jim, all food is fine!

So tell me kids, what do you think?
To dwell beneath the kitchen sink:
which one is better? Mice or me?

We chew on this thought carefully…

and so….

Back underneath the kitchen sink
goes Uncle Jim, who gives a wink.

His parting words are soft but frank:

AUNT FLO’S INSIDE THE TOILET TANK.

written in 2010