Veni, Vidi, Ventus --
The randomly chaotic and crafty scribblings of a deranged, wannabe artist allowed too many colours in her Crayon box.

Surgeon General's Warning: Some content of "From Pooka's Crayon" may not be suitable for: work, blue-haired little old ladies, the politically-correct, rabid moonbats, uptight mothers, priests, chronic idiots, insurance claims agents, Democrats, children, small furry quadropeds from Alpha Centauri, or your sanity.

Monday, October 29, 2001


Thing 2 and I are watching Cartoon Network, and they show a commercial for the Barbie Nail Studio.

Thing 2: "Mommy, how do you get them off?"

Me: "It's just glue, honey, they come off easily."

Thing 2: "You mean you don't gotta use a knife and cut off your fingers and wipe the blood clean so those will stick?"

Now me, I wanna know where the hell she got THAT idea from ......

Wednesday, October 10, 2001

Wasn't there, didn't do it, you can't prove anything

It's lies, I tell you, all lies. Don't believe DG, he's just making it up!

Oh. Shit. Wait. You mean he didn't say anything?

Uh. Nevermind, carryon.

Apparently ... and this was after I opened my eyes and realized I'd passed out cold onto my laptop and it was cussing at me at binary ... after I went to bed, DG shifted, and it startled the sleeping me.

Apparently ... I snapped upright and screamed, one of those throaty warpath everyonedies screams, and turned on him. "Feral," and I quote.

Apparently I scared the shit out of him.

And then, some minutes later, without ever focusing on him or answering him, I laid back down and went back to sleep.

*I* don't believe this. *I* don't remember shit. I'd honestly believe he was making it up ... if he didn't look so freakin startled while he was asking me about it.

(Jon says I looked like this every time he woke me up, however, his memory must be faulty and therefore he's not an acceptable witness for the prosecution.)

The leg is HURTING him today. Right on schedule.

He tried getting up, didn't last long, so I had to get up and make sure he was fed so we could dump pain pills into him.

Of course, that means I still haven't gotten nearly enough sleep, so we're working ourselves into some serious fucking sleep deprivation now.

I need an assistant.

Wednesday, October 03, 2001

America: Land of the free, Home of the Carnivore

Frozen dinners are designed with the carnivore in mind.

Look at them.

Look at the vegetarian dishes while you're at it. "Mock meatloaf." "Tofu corn dogs." "Meatless Vegetable Burgers."

90% of them have some sort of Meat Substitute.

There are times when the fibro has me in too much pain and too incoherent to "create dinner." If I want to get fed, I'd better hope there's something easy I can nuke.

And there are lots of things that LOOK good out there.

9 times out of 10, I pick what passes for meat in them out. There's a saucy noodle thing with BIG chunks of carrots and peas in it. Lots of noodles, the sauce is pretty good .... but then there's this CHICKEN in it. Urgh. Pause to pick chicken out. It's mindless, so I can get that part right.

Michelinas has a pretty good stroganoff. I gotta pause to pick the meat out.

I finally found a chicken minestrone (Stouffers) that doesn't make me gag. No, I take it back. I ADORE it. Lots of zucchini (proof that God really exists), and BIG chunks of chicken (not mystery meat), so it's even easy to pick out if I can't stomach it at the time.

Mexican dinners usually aren't as bad about it, by the time they've processed the ground beef THATfar (IF that is indeedy what it truly is) and mixed it with all the goop, there's nothing TO pick out.

And have you ever stopped to pay attention about proportions? "Rice and chicken (turkey, whatever)." You get all this goop, lots of meat, and a bare-assed spoonful of rice. Huh?

Meat, tons, check. Sauce, tons, check. Cool, that means we can skimp on the noodles and veggies, Americans LIKE it this way!

I don't make claims to be a vegetarian. It's not a principle thing. I am firmly convinced that we are mostly carnivorous by nature -- at the very least, true ominvores. There are times when I just oooooooze over a really good steak -- and it better still be mooing on the way to my table. Bloody, please. A good vet could still save it.

But meat just doesn't like my system very well. In anything more than mild doses, it reacts badly with my fibro and then I have to spend the next few days dealing with a total gastrological riot. Dairy is pretty bad about it too, so I must do without cheesy goodness and yummies like ice cream and cheesecake and even milk except for sparingly.

America: Land of the free, Home of the Carnivore.