abba dabba def: noun, slang; something small and insignificant
You are currently browsing the monthly archive for February 2009.
as much as i hate to do it, the spam has become uncontrollable. 874 spams in a 3 week period. HAM i hate annoyances… to you and me both (not you bijou, you’ll grow out of your annoying-ness, i hope).
leave me comments at anima (at) zabbadabba dot com
here’s a cute little science fiction story…
how it ends (<play me)
Daddy?
Umm, Sugar?
Can I steer for a bit?
No, baby, not until you’re 8, when you’re a mite bigger.
Oh-kay…
What can I do Daddy? I’m bored. We’ve been flying around for ages….
Why don’t you go play with Jeff in the hold?
Jeffy’s doing school work, he don’t want to play
Doesn’t, sugar…
Well, since we’re out here in the toulies… Would you like to blast something? Come over here, then…aim the laser cannon… like so… see if you can hit that blue and green planet…
That one?
Yep, keep it in the cross hairs, then push the button…
this theme (o the horror) was my doing… prompts always sound like a good idea when i submit at midnight…
(harumph another TOO BIG file)
What is wrong with people?
Can’t they take a hint? There are No Trespassing signs… A girl scout hung in effigy….
Satyr lawn ornaments dancing around a pentagram torched in the grass…
What’s it take to be left in peace?
Oh the horror, they are traipsing up my drive, thru the allée made of impaled real estate agents and vacuum cleaner salesmen. They’ve passed my menacing hellhound…
Who are they? A pox on these doorknockers I say!
Yes…?
Ma’mm, we’ve come to nominate your gingerbread house to the historical society…
Oh… Well then, my dearies, won’t you please come in?
you walk all over me, she cried
(as seen in a sidewalk in tuluca, mx)
east coast ski bums will tell you about sugarloaf, in maine.
(play me>) oliveloaf
I can’t believe I trusted my brother (a butcher) when he invited me to “THE LOAF”…
I shoulda been paying attention, but I was already schussing through the alpine glades of the ski resort Sugarloaf in my mind.
I bought goggles, researched skis to demo… Hell, I even worked out at the gym…
Imagine my surprise as we buzzed past the exit…
Whoa Dave! – ya missed it!
Huh? Wha…? Sugarloaf??
Nah man, we’re headed to OLIVE LOAF… Best hamn deli convention on the east coast!
Oh well.
What I missed in moguls, I made up for with pastrami on rye….
have you ever felt this way?
the nightmare (<play me)
I wake from the nightmare in a clammy sweat.
It’s always the same… I have been traveling and I NEED to reach the terminal.
It’s usually a seedy third world country, but sometimes not.
Strangely, once inside, I find myself utterly alone: the other travelers have vanished.
The intercom is sputtering foreign gibberish.
I peer fruitlessly at each door I pass.
Finally, I spot it – that universal icon of relief…
Entering the tiled room, I see hundreds of 50s style stalls, turquoise blue, extending as far as the eye can see. Every indicator knob is in the red –
“OCCUPADO”
you can tell i grew up in the south. southerners always want to show you the green pus, or the mangled limb, or the iphone video of their wife giving birth…
these are my hands after about 5 days in the wonderful mexican sun. i noticed the first effects after 30 hours… and it progressed rapidly on my left hand. after 3 days, my right hand started to show symptoms too. puffiness. small clear blisters that don’t pop. an itching sensation that won’t quit.
BEWARE THE EVIL SUN, children of the northern climes!
actually, if i had been sensible, and worn a tyvek painters suit and dishwashing gauntlets, i could have avoid all the agony. i MUST be a masochist.
if this happens to you, don’t waste your money on hydrocortisone cremes. well, maybe they will work for you… they didn’t for me. as soon as i left the beach, my hands started to get better, but it took a week for the swelling to go down.
if i was going going to hava a body modification, i would want to have the removable arm. you know, for cuddling comfortably… no more “umph, ’scuse me, i hafta change position…my arms asleep.”
Serena, I’m taking off the bandages now… are you ready? Blink once for yes, twice for no…
OK
The Vox in a Box is your 47th procedure… You are arguably the most perfect person alive –
You’ve had all the classics – the tummy, tush, tata trifecta; a complete body lipo; collagen lip injections…..
I must say, of your rarer augmentations, the removable arm quick release and orbital gyros for improved eye rolling are some of my finest work….
Gently now…. Let’s hear how the Vox works. Now you’ll sing like Yma Sumac…
Damn Chinese instructions….
Well then dear, ready for #48?
here’s another chesnut. the topic this week was “oil”, which i interpreted as olive oyl, of course
family matters (<play me)
Hiya Castor, I can’t talk, I’m getting ready for a date….
No, it’s not Hamgravy
No, not Brutus …
Not the sheik…. No, it’s not the movie producer… Eww not him – he was too greasy…
This guy’s soooo handsome, He’s a sailor! How I love a man in uniform…
I AM NOT A SLUT! That’s a terrible thing to say about your sister…
Yes, yes….I will tell Cylinda… yea, you still love her…. You really need to get over
her, big brother… how ’bout I set you up with one of my girlfriends?
YOU WOULD NOT GET A DISEASE!! You’re awful!!
this is the sort of stuff one does when you work for 2 weeks straight. you will do just about anthing to see something green growing when all you have seen for the past 10 days is white. white sky. white ground, and at dinner, they serve white rice. again.
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