AnonyMouse

Bye Bye, Typepad!

My new state of affairs has left me with more free time and aside from blogging like mad, I have had more time to nerdle. I've had my own hosting service for some time but was always too lazy to bother with installing WordPress on and serving my own blog.

Well time have changed and I am growing up.

Alongside my fellow bloggers, Jennie Smash, Angelina, and Urban I have decided to become a grown-up blogger and get my own URL. That means that despite having forked over the cash for the year, I hav moved my blog to a new location. You can now find me at:

Legend of Drunken Mouse [dot] com

I am still working out all of the bugs but it is looking pretty kick ass already, though I am sure I will change the design later. I was able to easily move all my posts over, so nothing has been lost, though I do have to figure out a subsitute for all those nifty TypeLists I had on this site.

Anyway, people update your blogrolls and I promise this is the last move. I have had this hosting service for over 5 years so I have no intention of moving my blog again after this.

Starve a Cold...

While some of my friends do not believe me, through repeated testing, I am of the opinion that when one has a cold the best thing for it is beer. I had a nasty sore throat over the weekend that was averted by going out on a rainy Saturday night and boozing it up.

Mind you the process involved an upset stomach and the sore throat turned into a stuffed nose and cough, but the end results were my feeling hale and hearty by Monday.

Spring Has Most Definitely Not Sprung

After having "the best goddamn lasagna ever" and a lot of wine at Wonder Girl's place, she invited us all to enjoy her lovely rooftop view of PS. For me this is generally an inviting proposition, but upon stepping onto the old tarmac my enthusiasm was halted by the reality that it was balls-ass cold out there.

Elevation of course accentuated this fact and I was forced to immediately depart.

Sorry Wonder Girl, kick-ass meal, but the roof thing is for spring.

We're Number One

PS: This is a drunken post. Shush

Fuck. I have no idea what I was going to type about...

Well, that is all fucked now isn't it?

Uhm... (annoy Jennie SMASH!) uhm... well shit.

Fuck it. Next time.

It's only Monday. Oh wait.

Google, "Drunken Mouse."

I am the first site on the list.

How cool is that?

Soon I will be so famous you'll have to cal me Drunken "Bitches" Mouse.

No disrespect.

Destined to Be Grumpy?

I came to the conclusion that being given a weird first name like Drunken pretty much set me up for a curmudgeon's life.

When you spend your formative years watching Romper Room without Ms. Mary ever once calling your name you start thinking something is wrong.

By the time you reach your teens you've been thoroughly soured by the consistent absence of your name on a license plate at the fair.

Once you're an adult, you've basically pickled the cynicism and are ready to take on the world with sardonic wit and hostile levity.

Seriously, Ms Mary Ann, fuck you and your Magic Mirror.

Friendster Mystery! Scooby Doo Where Are You?

There is this girl on my friend list and I do not know who she is...

You'd think that with a name like Drunken Mouse I would be better at remembering normal names, but guess what?

I am not.

I always forget names unless I see a person daily and even then there are no guarantees.

This girl has been on my list since August 2005 and even messaged me to let me know she finally joined. I am guessing that prior to that date I knew who she was, but now... not so much.

She keeps popping up in the Friend Tracker because she updates her profile about every two seconds and I've often meant to write and say, "Hi... Who the fuck are you again?"

Previous experiences with this situation has learned me that this is considered rude, so I am left with something akin to fake smiling at a party and avoiding any conversation that would require the person's name.

It doesn't help that this woman is very hot (She has a BF now, but not when she messaged me. Now I am single. Life = cruel) and has hot friends, but we also have no friends in common, so I can't ask anyone who she is.

What is proper etiquette for someone with the memory of a goldfish?

Free Communist Smokes

I have been experiencing a lot of strange things lately because of my red star communist cap. Some people are inqusitive or just understand the fashion/irony of it. Mostly, I tell folk that is represents my dedication to  Heinekenism.

The people that weird me out are the ones that seem fearful, like it's the 40's and I am part of some group out to destroy capitalism. Uhm, dood... join the present. Capitalism won.

Chill.

No, really.

Then there are people like the kindly Asian bodega owner who gave me a friendly nod and didn't charge me for the cigarettes I bought for Chica. What the fuck is that about? I mean I took them free smokes but did that just happen? I guess some people just *heart* the commies and let's be honest. It looked good on paper, it just doesn't work in real life.

Sorry to burst your bubble Castro and China.

Resolutions

I think I hosted a successful NYE party. Though extremely drunk I imagine everyone had a great time, but I do feel like I didn't get to spend enough time with any one person because I was running about playing host.

They are kinda corny, but here are my resoluntions for the new year:

1. Be more aggressive
2. Start running again
3. Become fluent in Japanese
4. Add $3000+ to my savings account

The Most Accurate Description of Americans Ever

I had never seen Easy Rider before last night and was more than intrigued by this conversation between Dennis Hopper and Jack Nicohlsom's characters:

 

George Hanson: You know, this used to be a helluva good country. I can't understand what's gone wrong with it.

Billy: Man, everybody got chicken, that's what happened. Hey, we can't even get into like, a second-rate hotel, I mean, a second-rate motel, you dig? They think we're gonna cut their throat or somethin'. They're scared, man.

George Hanson: They're not scared of you. They're scared of what you represent to 'em.

Billy: Hey, man. All we represent to them, man, is somebody who needs a haircut.

George Hanson: Oh, no. What you represent to them is freedom.

Billy: What the hell is wrong with freedom? That's what it's all about.

George Hanson: Oh, yeah, that's right. That's what's it's all about, all right. But talkin' about it and bein' it, that's two different things. I mean, it's real hard to be free when you are bought and sold in the marketplace. Of course, don't ever tell anybody that they're not free, 'cause then they're gonna get real busy killin' and maimin' to prove to you that they are. Oh, yeah, they're gonna talk to you, and talk to you, and talk to you about individual freedom. But they see a free individual, it's gonna scare 'em.

Billy: Well, it don't make 'em runnin' scared.

George Hanson: No, it makes 'em dangerous.

-- Excerpt from the film Easy Rider

That is pretty much sums up Americans then and today. I won't give away the story for those what ain't seen it yet, but it should have been called Rednecks Suck.

Okay. I Need to Chill.

Wuuuuuuuugh.

This was one hell of a week. I managed to party every night since Wednesday and still wake up every morning fit as a fiddle. Apparently, that one night was a fluke and I am now, Super Drunken Mouse Level 3.

I am actually too tired to even blog the details but a good time was had by all and I plan to take it easy this week and save it up for Drunken Mouse and T-Bone's New Year's Bash.

Let's hope no one pukes.