We'd make a great couple

What the heck?

My weeners!

I have to say, I was overwhelmed with self-validating smugness with the quality of definitions I received for my goofy word contest. What an intelligent, interesting and witty group of people read my blog! Listen...you can hear the soft pat-pat of the giant hand patting my back right now. I truly am a magnet for humor, intelligence and excellence. As I say, excellence pervades.

So...with no further ado, here are the winners!!!

Pendulous: WWii Guy!! You win because, as Melissa’s definition proved, a certain 28-day biological factor can turn women into "being evil and conniving on a grand scale." And yes, I’ve actually been told I have an "aura of evil" when Aunt Flo visits. By the mudder. Hmph.

Bulbous: DCvR!! "Beauty concealed" is not only succinct, but it touches me personally. I often think I have some bulbous beauty at least partly concealed. And so does a certain elderly lady who attended one of Chantze’s little league games.

Refrain: Amenaza Uno!! "Refrain" is often "the antithesis of my actions," as well. While it is a near-perfect rendering of the true definition, it was done with style and grace. Kudos, my main man. (I give myself runner-up for this term, since Shortensweet used my infamous Balderdash definition for refrain. I love myself.)

Titan: I really struggled with the weener for this word. Among top picks were Melissa’s for "Favorite nickname men use to identify 'the little guy,'" the Dad’s "When your belt gets too loose" and Shortensweets "the word found on a board that washed up on shore a few decades ago." And who could forget DCvR's endearing nod to a favorite childhood pet - "gone but never forgotten." Even worse, I would have to choose between my best friend, one of the few loyal posters to my blog, my brother or my sister. Therefore, I’ve decided...it’s a draw! You are ALL weeners!

And finally, I am honoring The Mudder for being the brave soul who got the whole thing off the ground with her quite funny definitions. Her definition of "pendulous" set the stage for the humor that followed. I don't think I will ever think of the female milk glands again without "pendulous" running through the ol' noggin.

For a good laugh, click the link to my Daily List. I’ve posted all the definitions (and the authors!) there.

A bientot mes copines,
Moi

P.S. True to my word, each winner is given the heady privilege of writing an article to be posted on my blog. You can direct your rightfully-given posts to my email address: LJWpsci1228@hotmail.com. Love you all, you weeners!

Oh, the drama!

Goodbye, Cincinatti, I shall visit you in my dreams. Literally. Due to unforseen viciousness on the part of my not-so-newly-divorced-yet-quite-vengeful ex-husband, I will NOT in fact be making my ever-so-longed-for trek to Cinci. I shall instead be forced to stay here and continue to overwhelm you with the conundrums that issue forth of my often-quizzical little head. Hm. I like the strung-together adjective descriptors. Just learned how to do that in my journalism class. One day you shall read these things in the New Yorker. Or not. Perhaps they will not appreciate my strung-together descriptors as much as my fans here in the good part of the world.

I have WONDERFUL news! I have determined the weeners in my goofy word contest! Unfortunately, I do not have the information quite at hand. You see, a funny thing happened to the secret envelope containing the names of the winning entries. It all began when…

A tsunami erupted on my voicemail after a pleasant two hours thinking ‘I absolutely ADORE her!’ Fifteen rapid-fire verbal exchanges revealed a most horribly disturbing error on the part of a gifted sensualist. Discovering the egregious mishap brought dissonance and confusion where once harmony was reported to have reigned. Eight rapid-fire verbal exchanges then revealed a lack of character, a preemptory rush to judgement, and continued waffling. And I quietly pumped a tank full of gas before packing a box of kitchen gadgetry. And that, you see, is why I do not have the weener’s names at hand. However…you can look here tomorrow to see if You have been crowned the Weener of them All.

Much love,
-L.

Cinci, ho!

Ok, I can't spell it. But it's official: I am heading to the land of the place where people can spell "cincinati." I admittedly cannot, but it does not dim the halo of intelligentsia hovering about my incongruous head. Genius is as genius does.

So, Saturday marks the day of my impending cross-state drive to embark on what will hopefully be a fiscally rewarding venture. Adventure. Melissa promises that if I bring my blender, she'll put it to good use. Me like-y!

Which brings me to a point of consternation. I must give up the closely-guarded secret of who has been chosen weeener of my goofy word contest. However, before I can render up a winner, I must give WWII Guy a chance to join the fun. But he must hurry! Time is (gratuitously) running out.

Ever and anon,
-L.

Te-Diem

Picture the antithesis of Carpe Diem.Or picture me spending a day pretending it's not today (yesterday, actually), but rather another day a month ago, or a year ago. Yeah, more like another day a year ago. Back before I had homework and deadlines and any place in particular to go or to be at a certain time. Picture me spending a day trying not to think all the thinks best left unmet lolling about my unsightly head. That was Saturday for me. I spent part of the day dissecting The House of Flying Daggers for no good reason, and then later, I investigated The Liberator. My recommendation is not to investigate The Liberator if you are A.) single or B.) celibate. Just let it be.

But my waste-of-a-day yesterday has me thinking about the nature of procrastination. What is the purpose of procrastination; where does it come from, and why do we indulge in such a self-sabotaging behavior? I think it boils down to avoidance. We avoid what we don't like, what we don't want to face. Right now I have some BIG things I'd rather not face, rather not find time for in my life. I'd prefer that life would stand still and I could exist in that hypersleep state like in the Aliens movies. Just wake me up when the mean-and-nasties are gone. A bientot, ma copine.

But no! Life does not allow us to channel surf the boring ads of life; it does not allow us to TiVo the moments we were too busy to notice; it does not allow us to scene select the good stuff and leave the gore alone. No, we are forced to experience it all, every damn moment of our lives.

I, for one, cast my vote for procrastination-avoidance. I mean, if life doesn't give us the option of picking and choosing our moments, the least it should let us do is postpone them a little. Especially those gory ones. Garsh.

Credit Where it is Due

You may have noticed the picture of the incredibly chic looking woman with the sunglasses and rockin' cool pimp hat on my blog. C'est moi. My dear brother, Daddy boy, is the responsible party for the graceful presence of my mug on this blog (and any blog I subsequently post to). He did an awfully great job, didn't he? Of course, the aesthetic excellence merely exudes from my features….he just made it happen. Still…thanks are in order. So I comply.

Also, I have big news….our own friend DCvR has a blog. I have yet to check it out (since, as those of you who know me know I am TERRIBLY busy right now), but I hear it is full of fabulous photography by our friend! Please check it out. DCvR, if you would, please post the http in the comments so my readers can easily access it.

Finally, I may be making a cross-Michigan trek to Cincinnati for the summer, as my employment options here are few and far between. However, I will be residing in the home of the blog maven herself, Melly, which may mean more frequent postings for my fans. But, then again…it may mean the same intermittent application of fingers-to-keys as you have been privy to heretofore. But, maybe by just being near her, some of her passion, caring and intensity may rub off on me, resulting in blog posts that actually mean something to the great, big world out there. But…then on the other hand, how would that further the cause of narcissism? Perhaps it would be better if she just let the chaos on my blog continue. Sorry, Melly. I guess I'm hopelessly mired in my own self-indulgent fantasies here.

Speaking of self-indulgent fantasies, have you checked out the Bro's four word definitions? The Mad Cinci Duo made wit-worthy entries, as well. They are worth the read, so check my comments on previous blogs. Keep looking here – I'll be announcing the winner soon. Well, pretty soon. Sometime.

Love always,
My excellence

Dear Readers

I have had only two submissions in my goofy word definition contest, a feeble display of loyalty, I must say. Now, unless I have more entries, I have the difficulty of choosing my mother as winner, in which case I could be accused of favoritism, or disappointing the mother by choosing the definitions of the unknown poster to my blog known only as DCvR. Not a good position for your gifted writer to be in.

Perhaps the problem is a lack of motivation. After all, my own mother scoffed at the idea of me writing her a poem. So, I am going to up the ante. Due to the low morale evidenced by the lack of response and disparaging comments regarding my former offer of a prize (and by my own mother, no less), I am declaring a new prize for the winner!

The new winner of my goofy definition contest can PUBLISH to my BLOG!

Yes, they too can be a published writer on the world's only blog dedicated to spreading the joy of narcissism! Do not underestimate the unique niche occupied by this blog in today's belly-button inspecting, over-analyzed society. No where else will you be encouraged to brag, feel so damn good about yourself you could do cartwheels, give everyone else a piece of your superior mind and tell everyone else how to improve their sorrowful little lives all in one witty and devious little post!

So, don't delay, dear readers. I am going to pull the plug on this bane-of-a-contest quite soon. So, get busy!

Love,

your (somewhat) dedicated writer