Easy-peasy! Lemon Squeezy! If you have a PSP, or know some poor addicted sap that does, you should… NAY, you MUST go to Photojunkie’s blog and comment on the post to win PSP games! Free! Make a post about it and get double the entries. These sound like fun-o-rama games.

Also, P-junk will come to your house and demo the Wii game system for exchange of a few photos of you hurting yourself or your friends. I’m tempted but the amount of time it took just to hook up the PVR was tremendous. It created a near-divorce pall over the apartment that lasted for hours.

Is it greedy of me to keep entering even after winning a game already?

Oh nice! Busdriver’s manky kitty Pooter gets on Chris’ blog yet Sharkboy and I spent hours dressing George Hamilton in hopes he’ll appear on the show. Or at least on the blog! Nothing!

Well I’m more miffed than a pageant mom who just realized that her daughter just… doesn’t… measure… up.

Seems that The Bloggies are now accepting nominations (ahem).

I’m off to nominate a couple sites.

Hell of a day out there, considering it’s almost 5 days into January. But I always remember that the first week of January can be mild. I remember with odd vividness, closing the door to a small rental van full of my belongings and getting sopping wet from melting ice off the roof of the Old Jail Hostel in Ottawa. I had quit my managing job of that 160+ year old hotel for travellers and was moving back to Toronto at the start of a new year and a new life bla bla bla. How very Mary Tyler Moore!

Today Sharkboy and I are walking through the park to work:

“Beauty day!” I offer.

“Yup.” Pause. “You’re not going to go all Al Gore on me, are you?”

“Nah. But this whole warm thing makes me think of Joan Crawford.” I say, staring at a semi-fat squirrel trying to decide weather or not to remove Hidden Nut #223 for consumption.

“How so?”

“I see the earth as Joan Crawford these days. She’s all sweetness and light but one day she’s going to burst into our rooms and start hitting us with stuff.”

I’m gone to Montreal to see the In-Laws and get some prezzies. We here at Deadrobot Heavy Industries wish you all a happy and healthy holiday, whatever you celebrate!

Amy! Good Gorrilla! Kiss! Amy Kiss!

Oh lord, who sat me near the ape?

Hush Shelly, please get along. It’s Xmas!

She smells like straw and ape pee.

Amy! Hit! Amy eat shell! Amy break!

Bring it, Neanderthal!

Ah me. The time for people to come together. Shelly, put down that fruit cake…

I am excited and twitch-happy like Deborah Harry on the floor of a men’s room stall at CBGB’s. I WON A GAME!! I love surprises like that when you come home from a long trip.

Ta very much, Rannie!!!

I know you all read from my blogroll faithfully…

What? You don’t click away from my blog? You just keep hitting Ctrl-R until your fingers cramp? Bless your hearts!

Anyhoo, you should go read this particular post over at A to B. It made me laugh out loud in my cubicle.

How…

How in god’s name do people…

I’m…

I can’t speak right now. The last image is the worst. Worksafe.

In my self centred wanderings the last two weeks I forgot to sign up a couple blogs here:

The 2006 Canadian Blog Awards

I would have put Hairy Fish Nuts, Acid Reflux and Dainty Bastard in a couple categories, for sure.

And screw you, my faithful readers, for not nominating me.

Just kidding. I was nominated once a while back for some such masturbatory site thing but as usual, lost out to Big Fat Hairy Living.

One of the biggest mistakes a blogger can do is to apologize for not making entries. It’s as bad as “posting the cat” (guilty!) which I don’t want to do. I’d rather post quality than quantity.

I make no apology.

I’m frigging busy.

I have my wedding in 3 days and freelance work that has to be done before my honeymoon/cruise.

But I will give you this nugget of Deadrobotism: Last night at 4am, the cat woke us both with a crying jag so bad (George Hamilton was out of food) we had to watch some TV to get back to sleep.

The Tonight Show was showing a repeat from their Halloween show. Marylin Manson was singing vocally eviscerating a version of “Halloween” from A Nightmare Before Christmas. Talk about jumping the eye-liner encrusted goth shark. If he’s reduced to being wheeled out, seasonally, like some tired Charles Shultz crap cartoon, for lack of new material, I don’t feel so bad for not posting.

Marylin almost made up for his sell out when, at the end of his set, he gave Leno a big black lipsticky smudge of a kiss behind his ear.