Anacronyms & Abbreviations in Rabbitese

Granted, it's no secret that my brain does not quite work like that of everyone else.  But sometimes I even have to sit back at my own whackadooery and say "WTF?"  Mom blogged recently pondering the psychic abilities of her DHL delivery dude and it got me wondering what DHL stands for.  (No, I still don't know.  I got distracted and forgot to look it up.)  Anacronyms and abbreviations and I are old friends.  I get lost for hours making up words to go with said letters.  License plates?  Forget it.  I'm done.  If you are over there torturing me by making me ride in a car and yapping ninety-to-nothing and get no response - I am probably creating PSU 937 into Please Shut Up for the 937th time!!!  (And drive, damn it.)

Anyway - rambling - DHL.  It began as driver/delivery related.  That didn't work.  I am pretty sure Driving Hookers Left is NOT what that stands for.  That was about the extent of driving references...

Then we had Donking Hot Latinos...  Probably not.

Dumb Horny Lesbians?  Dick Hard Lately???

And then, out of the blue I shouted - literally - DON'T HURT LEON!!!  

No, I don't know who the fuck Leon is, either.  But, apparently, The Universe thinks it is pretty important seeing as I am blurting it out at the top of my lungs to absolutely no one.  It's a good thing I don't have a cat - it would be hanging from the ceiling with a nervous disorder by now (or trying to kill me in my sleep, they do that you know).

So...  What do YOU think DHL stands for (in Rabbitese, of course)?  No looking it up.  I no longer really give two shakes of turdy drawers what it actually means.  What can you come up with?

And just for gits and shiggles, how many of you actually know what URL stands for???

[UPDATE:  rotacoL ecruoseR mrofinU :LRU | )sserpxE ediwdlroW LHD fo srednuof( nnyL dna molblliH ,yeslaD :LHD ]

Are you there, Gawd?

It's me!  Margaret!

Hello?  That bitch hung up on me!!!

Check out the new video for "Telephone" here!

Yeah... It's like that.

And an inspirational ditty after the jump for your listening
(but not your chilren's) pleasure!

Don't make me get the flying monkeys!!!

Good grief what a week or two it's been.  I have totally neglected my blog - neglected commenting on y'all even more so.  (Sorry!)  Lately I don't know which what is up, down, or under - and I keep checking the sky to some if some caterwauling heiffer and her mangey ass dog are fixin' to floop down on my head and steal my shoes...

Between the damned constant migraines, insomnia, Kik's PMS, this damned weather, my claustrophobia from being stuck in this motel, chronic insomnia, crackhead tweakers living nextdoor, nightmare nitpicky clients, gimme gimmes with their hands out - all on top of my usual neurotic madness - it's a wonder I have not climbed up on top of the building and started flinging poo at the passing train...  Splat! Splat! Mother fucker!  People really don't know how lucky they truly are.  Of late, I could chunk a turd hard enough to send your left nut flyin'. Trust.

But all in all, it's progress.  The influx of work - not matter how frustrating it may be - is coin in the purse and one step closer to moving this summer.  Just have to keep it all in perspective and remember it is for the greater good and soon I will be out of this gawd forsaken infected twat of a state and can bid adieu to the whole graphics world once and for all.  It's all steppin' on babies and doin' the fukkit dance to get to the life I will soon be living.  Nothing in this world is free (unless I am designing your blog, apparently) and this is just me earning my keep for the world that is about to open up.

And no I am not medicated.  Ha ha ha!  I am really just trying to keep the positive energy flowing and moving forward - and since my Give a Damn has, in fact, busted, hopefully it won't be too hard a row to hoe.  It's much easier with a goal and something to look forward to.  When one can say only "X" more months or "X" more jobs, et cetera.

I've got jobs lined up and somewhat organized now, so perhaps I will be able to maintain my presence here a little better.  I miss hearing what all is up with all of y'all.  I have dozens of unfinished drafts to post, so perhaps I will go back and revisit some of those and try to breathe a little life into this sad little blog again.

I hope all is well in your worlds.  Stop in and leave a comment or two.  

Would love to hear from ya!

Why in mad tranny hell....

...did Cher

steal Teresa's weave?

Dark Lady will fuck you up, Half Breed!!!

"Prostitution WHORE!!!"

Is it just me, or...

...is there something inherently wrong with this graphic?

I guess when you gotta go, you gotta go...  But I really hope that is his other foot in the background.

Bless Their Hearts (Or - Dumb Ass Yankees!!!)

The New York Post.  What the fuck is "Goeux"?

Couldn't someone have verified that before it went to print?

I mean it's not like 

GEAUX SAINTS!!! 

isn't everywhere these days...  

Lawdy Miz Clawdy & Gawd luv'em.  They tried.
What a bunch of YANKers.

I have a theme song.

Thank you Superbowl 44!   This is the Poxy Boggards as featured in the Docker's commercial.  In light of the week I had, I thought it fitting (or not so?), all things considered and such.

Relatedly, maybe someone should buy me some of these to avoid the no pants situation - and just because I am cute and have no shame in begging!  Check out all the cool styles.  Who knew???

"Girl, I just shit my pants!"

[Language (obviously) NSFW]

I don't know what it is about us NYC Queens and our obsession with bodily functions...  It's fuckin' funny though.  And HUGE props for the nod to Leigh Bowery in the video.  Love me some Sherry Vine!

"I'm a Radiant Asshole and I'm Happy!"

This is in honour of the ever amazing Lady J at Pen to Pages.  She, like I, had a bit of a rough day yesterday with the every elusive little bitch called Happiness and is a Spoken Word fan like myself - so I thought I would post this for any who may need a little pick me up.  The artist in the video is the fucking fabulous poet and author, Maggie Estep.  She put out a few albums back in the '90s - No More Mister Nice Girl ("I'm not a normal girl.  I'm an angry, sweaty girl.  So BITE ME!") and Love is a Dog from Hell ("I'm an emotional idiot, so get away from me - I mean, come here.") - but her magic is really in the words.  She is also one hell of an author.  If you don't know Maggie - seek her out.  I know if you are a fan of this blog, you will fall in love (with her).  The video is only a minute and a half long.  Take the time.  Trust.

Okay. One more.  As charming as y'all seem to think I am, THIS is what it's REALLY like living with me.  Nail.  Head.  Bingo!

Hello, Bellvue? Yes... Um... There's a crazy man in the Post Office. Can you send the van?

Let me preface this post by saying that I am NOT crazy.  Well...  I am not mentally deficient.  Well...  I function to the best of my abilities in the greater scheme of things.  Marching.  Beating.  Own drum.  Such and so...

Suffice it to say that I spend about 90% of my time with absolutely no human contact.  So I live in my own world, with my own self-made entertainment.  There is not, however, a volume control on said amusement.  Nor is there a whole lot of awareness about the world around me.  It would not be entirely uncommon to see the rabbit in full regalia - complete with cane - break out into an awkward Macarena in the middle of the produce department whilst perusing kumquats because "Calle Ocho" came on the overspeakers.  It happens.  Usually much to the chagrin of whomever is shopping with me.  I tend to cause people to move away from me on the bus because I am sitting there singing (to myself and doing the dance) "Sitting on the Toilet."  Now Flush!!!  I really don't think about it.  It's going on in my world, and I am oblivious to the real world around me.  It's like Inappropriate Disney Tourette Syndrome with a Soundtrack or something.  Sometimes you just gotta dance and sing.

The neighbors are no longer unaccustomed to hearing wailing renditions/parodies of things such as "Forever Flung" (to the tune of "Forever Young" with FEELING):

Made my day...

Been havin' a crappy day today.  Was feeling poorly over the weekend - just generally stressed out - and in the aftermath of being ill...

And my friend's four year old daughter, Lil Bit calls me (this is not unusual - I get several calls a week).  The conversation today went something like this:

Lil Bit:  BUNNY!!!

Me:  Hey darlin' what are you —

Lil Bit:  We saw the stinky truck!!!

Me:  The stinky truck???  You mean the trash truck?

[pause]

Lil Bit:  No.....

[I think I confused her.]

Me:  Well what did the stinky truck look like?

Lil Bit:  Truck.  It said "you smell."

Me:  [completely lost at this point but going with it]  "You smell" huh?  Where did you see the stinky truck?

[I'm wondering where on EARTH this is going.]

Lil Bit:  Yeah. [clunk] Mooooommmmm —

[LB is apparently done with me.  Lil Mama gets on the phone.]

Lil Mama:  Did you get all that?

Me:  I got it but I don't get it.  What the hell's a stinky truck?

Lil Mama:  "U.S. Mail."  She's been hangin' around you too much.

Totally made my day.  Gotta love it.  (And trust me, "precocious" doesn't even begin to cover it!)

Show me your privates!!!

It’s Delurker Day!

Which means if that's you lurking over there on this blog — Yes, you!  I see you over there in the corner!  Get your hands out of your britches! — take a minute to leave a comment and say 'Hi!' or "Phrwap!" or whatever every else tickles your dangley bits.  (And as always, all my regular Rabbiteers are always more than welcome to run a mouth or two while you're here!!!)

Show it and Shake it!

Rabbity Must Read: Stir-Fry Awesomeness

You have got to check this one out.  I have read it three times today and I am still cracking the hell up.  It's brilliant!

Just because I happened to be on F*%k Ridge with *name deleted due to embarrassment* in the backseat of his Tuna Barge it doesn’t necessarily mean that I was doing anything. We could have been discussing *chemistry*. That was no reason for you and your Aqua Net Brigade to terrorize me. If you terrorized everyone he discussed *chemistry* with, you were very busy Bleacher Creatures.

 Stir-Fry Awesomeness

"What I Meant to Say"

My Blessing for You in the New Decade

No matter how badly last year treated you, just walk tall with your head high. 

This is a brand new year!

 

I bring nothing to the table lately...

...but this commercial cracks me up!

Irate Wife: You son of a biscuit-eating bulldog!
Husband: What the French, Toast?
Irate Wife: Did you think I wouldn't find out about your little doo-doo head cootie queen?
Mistress: Who are you calling a cootie queen? You lint-licker!
Irate Wife: Pickle you, Kumquat!
Husband: You're overreacting.
Irate Wife: No, Bill...  Overreacting was when I put your convertible into a wood chipper, Stinky McStinkface!
Mistress: You Hoboken.

Gets me every time I see it.  Almost as good as the Bing commercial with the pregnant gall singing Oklahoma!  I think I just woke up the roommate with my laughing!

Do I Offend?

I've got Followers stumbling away like Courtney Love lookin' for a fix...

Come back!  I'll even dance for ya!

May I admire you again today?

Product Warning: The Fires of HELL - In Yo' Face

Unless you are a masochist and enjoy interminable torture, stay the hell away from Walmart's "Equate Extra Moisturizing Nasal Spray."  Trust.  The ONLY reason the shit is moisturizing is because you WILL be sitting there with the water hose firmly lodged in your nose to put out the lake of fire that has since left the bowels of Hell and taking up lodging  

IN YOUR FACE!!!

I have been arguing with a sinus infection for months now.  And it's winning.  I don't know where this stuff came from - it was in the medicine cabinet - I think I recall Kiki bringing it home here a while back.  I thought, however, it was one of those SALINE things.  You know Salt.  Not liquid fucking fire in a plastic bottle.

There's eyeliner on my knee and blood on my elbow. I am funky. (And no, my name is not Prince...)

It seems like the proverbial, universal funk has taken over the planet lately.  Is there another damned retrograde going on?  It's workin' my tits if it is and it needs to get its ass spinning back the right way before I climb up onto the roof of this crack hotel and start flingin' dingleberries at all the junkies and hookers.

I don't know what pterodactyl has crawled up my twat lately, but I am just not havin' it.  "It" being ANYTHING.  At. All.  I have 117 and half blogs bumbling about in my head but don't feel like writing any of them.  The one on Christmas day alone is a doozy.  I read all of y'all's posts, but haven't the gumption to comment (sorry).  I barely want to cook - much less eat.  I don't want to talk to anyone.  Have had my web messenger hooey thing set to invisible and I just sit there snarling at it as people come and go - hoping to hell they don't decide to message me even though they can't see me.  T.V. annoys me (not that that's a big stretch).  Hell breathing lately annoys me - mine or that of anyone else.  I am one funky, cranky bitch.

Have you...

...danced today?  You should.

Stop what you are doing.  

Put that down!!!

Chill out.  And listen...

Hear it?  That's your music callin'!

Now get up...

And shake it!  Shake it!

 Shake that fluffy butt!

Your chair says Thank You!