Archives New! Everything Else

2004-04-01 - 3:39 p.m.


April Fool's Non-Diarylander Entry

From Pound:

My doctor says they're probably "fatty tumors" and that they're usually harmless. I sure as hell hope so. But what a nice phrase, FATTY TUMOR. I like the compound creepiness of it. Kind of like NAZI PUSTULE or APOCALYPSE WART or just plain SHIT FUCK DEATH! In my leg.

From Dooce:

I am dilated to a "1 plus some" (the actual medical term he used) and 70% effaced. For those who aren't familiar with what this means, let's just say that there's this thing that has to open up to the size of a LARGE BAGEL before the baby can move down the birth canal. We're talking about a steroid-injected bagel full of carbohydrates, the ones that count for two full meals worth of calories. A big, big bagel. And when the thing gets to be the size of a big, big bagel I will most likely be in the middle of calling several nurses "low-class motherfucking hacks, you bitches!"...Which reminds me, I'm hungry.

From Miss Doxie:

"Her placenta falls...to the floor" should not be a lyric ever, ever sung by an eighteen-year old boy. And I certainly should not be singing about falling placentas. Maybe nobody should ever be singing about falling placentas. That sort of thing will scar you! (Confidential to Live fans: I’m totally kidding. I love Live. Please do not email me.)(Confidential to everyone else: I am not kidding. Placenta? In a pop song? Who wrote that?)

From Dooce:

During conversation feedings I have to pull her off the breast several times, look her in the eye and say There is no talking in baseball, Leta. She’ll sober up immediately and get this look on her face that says Me? Talking? You must have mistaken me for that OTHER baby. And then she dives head first back into the breast and picks up where she left off at the bottom of page four where she and the breast were discussing the Democratic National Convention.

From M. Giant:

I felt a little sad for the patio furniture man. In the United States, he'd be trailed by a mob of excited children. Also, he would have a truck full of ice cream instead of a truck full of patio furniture. When people say America is the greatest country on earth, this is what they mean.

From Gwen:

My hair is still growing. It was short like Halle Berry's, then short like... um... Charlize Theron's when hers was short, and now I'm going through all the phases of Janet on Three's Company, like I already told y'all. The only thing I wanted to add to that is that I am now the illegitimate child of Dorothy Hamill and Shaun Cassidy.

From Ultramicroscopic:

when you are 19 you're cool every breathing moment, intentionally or not. at 19 you could wear... oh, say, a plastic mesh truckers hat from 1972 and a pair of jeans cut so poorly your ass crack is visible and it looks cool. at 19 you could say something like "fo shizzle my bizzle" and it sounds cool. at 37, you are only allocated 3 days of cool per year, and you are not told which days they are. might have been yesterday, might be tomorrow. you just don't know.

From Jenfu:

“I was killing time in Good Vibrations, and I see one called The Silver Bullet. And I had to buy something called The Silver Bullet, you know?" "Because what if he turns into a werewolf halfway through?" "Well, right. A girl's gotta be prepared.”

From Hashai:

If I were Jesus, I would have turned water into not only wine, but also Diet Coke. Seriously. I always seem to be holding a bottle of water when what I really want is a Diet Coke, for God's sake.

From Sour Bob:

We've really become an open-minded, accepting society when even a fat bastard like Dr. Phil can have his own diet program.

From MoPie:

I spent last night crashed out on my bed, watching Saturday Night Live, trying to come to terms with the fact that I found Clay Aiken attractive. Not even just attractive -- sexy. He was singing that creepy, horrible song and I was thinking, "Mmm, Clay Aiken." I don't even know myself anymore.

From Darn Tootin:

(The cockroach) managed, probably by holding onto some bit of pipe inside the toilet, to actually resists the flush and swim back out after the water was gone. The second flush seemed to do the trick, although I might have flushed two or three times after that, just to be sure. Come to think of it, I might have checked inside the toilet every time I sat down for a few days after that. I don't really recall.

From Tremble:

These kids always provided the kind of amazing, implausible stories that fueled an entire generation’s sexual paranoia. The Girl Who Only Made Love Once, With A Man She Met On A Cross-Continental Flight. The Boy Who Slipped In Some AIDS On The Soccer Field, As He Was Scoring The Winning Goal. The Coed Who Accidentally Drank A Glass Of AIDS At Her First College Keg Party. The Boy Who Cried AIDS And Then Was Bitten By A Wolf...WITH AIDS.