Edie Finds a Corpse: Rite of Pure Thought

Today's writer's block reminds me that I FUCKING LOVE PIZZA.

Describe your perfect pizza

But Givegoldtheglory, who has had her creative part of her brain rewired to the logical end, has this to say:

I don't have one. Possible better and non-assuming wording for question, "Do you like pizza? Describe your perfect one."

I just really don't enjoy bread based stuff enough to have a 'perfect pizza'.

IT DOES NOT CONTAIN A PROPER BALANCE OF NUTRIENTS
LOOKUP LIST.FOOD.A--
ERROR LIST NOT FOUND ABORT OR RETRY
Why can't I stop talking about this woman?
So anyway I clicked on today's blog based on the avatar. It looks like we share similar taste in TV and that's slightly disconcerting.
By "same taste in TV" I mean I watch one show currently and she watches it too.

Funny this one should come up when I just set the bread dough out to defrost while I'm at work. I'm having my favorite tonight, which is thick crust with tomato sauce and too much mozzarella cheese (and a little Parmesan) over sweet Italian sausage, mushrooms, and lots of olives.

ARRRR WHY AM I SO FAT?

CBS has announced plans to modernize Sherlock Holmes for American television.

First of all, Fox based a medical drama on Sherlock Holmes; perhaps they've heard of House MD?

Excuse me?
House MD is based on Sherlock Holmes-- got any source for that claim?
That sounds like something I'd claim on a paper I wrote in freshman English just so I'd have something to actually say and my grade is based more on my ability to communicate without grunting or hitting anything than any coherent idea.

Second, Gatiss and Moffat had the idea of bringing the man himself to modern London, and they did it out of love for the character and his stories. And guess what? We get to see it on PBS, so it's a modern Sherlock on American television!

Maybe the people doing it on CBS love Sherlock Holmes.
I know a lot of people love this modern Sherlock Holmes but I know nothing about it.
I'd like to keep it that way, actually.
So she's doing this bullshit thing where every day she posts something she's grateful for and I wish she'd stop.
Here's a post entitled "for once in my life, I said a funny thing at the perfect time" and let's see.
I'm sure it'll be a barrel of laughs regardless--

Director Marla asked Baker!Brock why the heck he constantly carries a towel (not a full-size one; just a little dish towel) when he's in costume.

Because he's a massive twat.

It was past midnight, and we were all a bit loopy and groggy, so he didn't answer at first, and I said, "A towel is the most massively useful thing a person can have!"

Everyone within earshot burst out laughing, the joke spread, and we called Brock "Arthur Dent" for the rest of the night.

...
Guess you had to be there.
Apparently not, because here's a comment:

~dies laughing~ Oh you hoopy frood, you!!! *glomps you*

I guess I just don't know how comedy works.

Last night's rehearsal ran an hour and fifteen minutes over; I got home around midnight, washed some clothes in the bathtub (the laundry room was busy all weekend), and crawled into bed around 00:45. I was tired, but it took me ages to get to sleep. I was up before dawn to shower and be on the road before 07.00. I gave myself an hour to get to Fullerton (bloody unpredictable Orange County traffic).

So with the time telling the way it is and the phrase "bloody unpredictable" you might expect this woman to be British.
Which is why you'll be amazed to learn in an upcoming post she's provably American.

Some guys were unloading a lorry and told me that the fellow who could show me the tree would be there twenty minutes after he'd said he'd be there to meet me, so I had forty minutes to sit around. I was too annoyed to try to catch up on sleep, so I listened to an audio book until my contact showed up.

THE LORRY GUVNA WITH MY CALIFORNIAN ACCENT

I'd dropped my car off at the repair shop for some maintenance last night so it'd be first in the queue this morning, and I could still get to rehearsal on time.

THE QUEUE WITH MY CALIFORNIAN ACCENT.
Look, I like British phrases too but I don't try to slip them in constantly. In fact, I've really only taken "bint" because I am always seeking to increase my stock of names to call people.
When you do this "bloody queue lorry" shit it just really comes off as pretentious.

Verizon can bugger itself with a rotary phone. I'm off to take a nap.

See we have a term for "bugger".
SHOVE IT STRAIGHT UP THEIR ASS.
Little longer but I happen to like it a bit more because it sounds way more violent.
or if you want a shorter version "Verizon can fuck itself with a rotary phone."

It's not been the best week, so there is no Friday list of happiness today ... just a Friday list of looking for stuff that gets me out from under a cloud:

1. It's payday, and I went a little overboard at Amazon this morning. I ordered one of my favorite CDs (Eric Clapton's Pilgrim)

>Favorite Clapton album
>Not Slowhand
HEH GIRLS

Boo-Cat's tumor is malignant. The vet said it's a high-grade cancer: "High-grade cancers spread early, when the primary tumor is still quite small or barely detectable." (Ganked from WebMD.) I shall do some research, see what I'm capable of doing financially and otherwise, and then go from there.

Sounds like it's time to let Boo-Cat go.
He's not like people. He can't rationalize his pain.
Sad fact of life I'm afraid--
We grew up together, Kitten, and yet it was your fate to die well before me.

This is a first. In my mail with the invoices and catalogs was a plain envelope. It was addressed to the library, not anyone in particular, which is why I got it. I opened it and found a two-page advertisement for a masseuse in Newport Beach. She described herself in great detail and gave her rates, plus how much extra a hand job is.

Speaking my language, baby.
I can't believe you can legally mail that shit. Aren't there prostitution laws?
Oh well. Maybe she's illegally mailing it.

*blink, blink*

Wait ... what?

*reads again*

EW.

envelope --> shred bin

*washes hands quickly*

Oh calm down, Jesus.
Christ on a cross.
Ha, ha for once a Livejournal comment doesn't make me wish violence on the writer:

Well? How much extra is a hand job?

I'm guessing surprisingly expensive.

There are theraputic massage therapists and then there are prostitutes. Either can be male or female.

In that industry you have to wonder why the woman adverts herself wearing very little when she's selling "massage" and describing her figure mesasurements isntead of her massage credentials.

A woman blatantly advertising handjobs isn't really a masseuse I'm guessing--
Just a guess.

You can often tell what they really are selling by how they present themselves in adverts and where they work, but not always. It's so bad that honest massage therapists event state, "no sex".

Wow, thanks for that.
YOU CAN REALLY TELL WHAT SOMETHING IS ABOUT BY THE WAY IT'S MARKETED!
IIII KNOW HOW STUFF WORKS!

In asia, its considered part of the massage to get the client off. This is not the case in the US, but now you should better understand what the term "Asian massage" means.

This blog took a weird turn, didn't it? Anyway, the cunt who owns this blog responds:

oh, a hand job is usually 20 to 50 bucks as no one ever pays for sex, they tip. Figure a dollar a minute if the guy holds back..

Is that what the ad said or are you speaking from experience?

So I went into the local independent book shop before my haircut Saturday and ordered two books: The Looking Glass Wars and To Say Nothing of the Dog.

She just wants to qualify that the bookstore is independent because, you know, fuck corporate America, maaaan.

Neither was in stock, but the cashier said they'd call when the books came in Monday. I paid for the books and went to get my hair cut.

Paying for shit in advance
Tell you what. When you have it I'll pay for it.

Monday: I went from home to work to my audition and got home again around ten. No one from the book shop called, and I was so preoccupied that I'd forgot all about the transaction.

Tuesday, Lisa left a voicemail and said, "It looks like you picked up your copy of The Looking Glass Wars, but your copy of To Say Nothing of the Dog is still here. We're sorry to ask you to come in again ...."

Wait ... what? No, I didn't pick up my book. What have you done with my book?!

This is why you don't pay for shit that you aren't currently holding in your hand.

Turns out they sold my book to someone else. I'd decided to hold off on being annoyed until I found out what happened; maybe they just misplaced it, and it would be there when I came in. No such luck: an inexperienced clerk was unloading the books Monday when a man walked in and asked, "Do you a copy of The Looking Glass Wars?" (Not, "I'm here to pick up my copy of The Looking Glass Wars." Big difference.)

GRAND TALES OF MILD INCONVENIENCE.

She knew it had been ordered for a customer, and without making sure, she just assumed that this random dude who walked in off the street and asked for one in a popular series of books was the same person who had ordered and paid for it two days before.

If it's so fucking popular why is this bookstore ordering one copy at a time?

The manager said the clerk who sold the book was terrified she was going to be fired for this.

Fired for selling a book in a store where books are for sale.
OHHHHHH THE TREACHERY.

I said, "Off with her head!" We both laughed, but that clerk damn well better know the difference between Do you have this book and I'm here for the book I ordered after this. Not everyone is as much of a pushover as I am.

You know she probably deals with a few customers a day. She isn't your little pet sales clerk.
This is why you don't pay for shit that isn't in stock. The stock gets misplaced, it dosen't come in on time-- just order it off Amazon, Jesus.

I understand that stuff happens. I remember what it's like to serve and pander to customers. The book will be there for me to pick up tomorrow. I do have to keep reminding myself that this situation is an inconvenience instead of a problem, though.

A problem you created and is entirely your fault, I dare say.
The bookstore's job is to sell books to people. If you pay for shit and offer to pick it up later then you're taking your chances with it not being there at your convenience. You made it easy for them to say no or put you at an inconvenience.