definitely not sushi-grade.

ever since i was little, there has almost always been some kind of pet in my house. whether it was a big, dumb, loveable mutt, a schitzo cat that is constantly trying to escape, a silly spitz who likes to terrorize the laundry pile, or the most boring turtle on the planet..there was always something to play with when i wasn't too busy making my siblings' lives a living hell (what are older sisters FOR after all?).

now that i'm at school with nothing to comfort me but my computer and cat-dog (yeah..i need a boyfriend..REAL bad) i tend to get rather bored. then it hit me (cue lightbulb over my head): i'll get a fish! enter fluffy guy mattera..a cool little fish with an enormous head. SURE he was slimy to the touch and had the potential to develop somewhat of an odor..at least it was something to amuse me from time to time. the key word here is was..because the damn thing DIED like 3 hours after i got it. he was all belly up in his little jar this morning..and come to think of it..he looked extra dead..like he was rubbing it in my face that i was a horrible mother or something (on a side note: i am now discouraged from spawning offspring..until forever). he should have just eaten his food like a big boy and maybe..just maybe the little bugger would still be a-flippin' and a-floppin'..still not knowing what the hell was going on. OH the good ol' day! that's the first and last time i trust wal-mart to sell me a quality product. rip fluffy guy..we barely knew yee..

as if that unfortunate loss wasn't enough (give me 3 to 5 days to recover..or 3 to 5 beers to dull the pain..whichever you prefer)..uconn parking services finally outfoxed me (don't worry..i didn't think it could be done either..gold star for them). in the middle of sociology today i screamed out (and by screamed i clearly mean loudly whispered in a voice that would have made felicity, noel, AND ben proud) "ahhhhh SHIT!"..remembering that i had forgotten to move my car from the lot near my building..the lot restricted for professors, RAs, and of course any and all visiting dignitaries..not me though..NEVER ME! *cue violins and one lone tear on my left cheek* them uconn officers..they're VULTURES i tell you! the time on that ticket was 6:16..A.M! i was still doin some serious sleepies (quality dream by the way..i got some action..and if you know of my current drought at all you can be CERTAIN that it was indeed a dream..grr). all this time i thought the po po was all about coffee and donuts..but they are really just out for blood..and a little cash too i guess. oh i'll get you fake police..and your little computerized ticket writer too..whahahahaha!

for some reason i thought that last comment would read in a maniacally threatening way. i was wrong. i sounded like the big dork that i am. oh..the humanity..

one final note before i go on my merry way: just because i did a top 10 (ok..top 7) list about jeff houle DOES NOT MEAN that i can do one for everyone who asks! you hearin' me, ese? and THAT regis..is my *final* answer..

..in need of a hug,
lex

*final is so permanent. how about you give me $6.87, a bag of gummi bears, and a lap dance by a midget dressed as a unicorn and we have ourselves a deal? i'm sure we can work something out..i'm flexible (in business negotiations of course..but let your imagination go for a second..ok stop)..

letterman gots nuthin' on me.

good evening all..and welcome to another episode of masterpiece theater..umm..errrr..what? come now..you know i would never subject you..my cherished readers..to such rubbish..but while we're on the subject..why oh WHY do the english insist on spelling words like "theater" and "center" with an -re instead of an -er..and don't even get me STARTED on that -our crap. say it with me QE2: fav-OR-ite..col-OR. you can do it ol' gal! for serious though..just because the language is named after that little country of theirs doesn't mean they can forgo any and all simple rules of spelling and grammar..but i digress. i guess it's like that whole tootsie pop licking deal: the world may never know. but if by chance it asks..those limey bastards can kiss me arse..o fo sho.

moving right along into our regularly scheduled idiocy..i have a friend named jeff houle (pronounced hoooooooooooool..be sure to enunciate each individual O). after spending an OBSCENE amount of time confined in the civic with him this weekend..i can say with 97.64 percent accuracy that he is quite possibly one of the best people i have ever met, talked to, or inappropriately felt up on in my entire life. there are so many things about the wonder that is jeff that i've come to know and love..and god dammit..these are things that you too should have the opportunity to experience as well. ladies, gentlemen and 3-toed sloths worldwide, i bestow upon you with great flourish: 10 THINGS (or however many i can think of) THAT I HEART ABOUT JEFF HOULE.

#1. THE SMILE: i swear to the buddy christ that this boy could be wearing a burlap sack, striped legwarmers, and a paisley-print neckerchief and he would still look like about 7585863475864357464 bucks because of his pearly, pearly whites. even after a heinous accident involving alcohol, a telephone, and a slipperoo off his place of slumber..he's STILL recommended by 4 out of 5 dentists and unanimously approved by the american dental association.

#2. HE'S A TOOL: jeff is not a tool in the derogatory sense (see prick, asshole, et al)..but he did fix a shelf for me once..with a hammer. so technically he is a tool afficionado..a toolman if you will..a regular tim taylor minus the bearded, flannel wearing sidekick. did you know that he built his own shed? well he did..with lots of tools..some even battery operated. better snatch him up fast ladies..he's the catch of the day!

#3. CONSTANT DENIAL OF HIS WHITENESS: regardless of what he may tell you, jeff houle is pretty damn white. but do you think that he lets a little thing like enthnicity doesn't get him down? HELLLLLLLLLLS no! he wears his pants so low that everyone knows what color undies he's sportin' that day (i think they were gray boxer briefs today..), his favorite movie is "baby boy," and he describes any song or band that doesn't mention slapping bitches or bustin' caps as "cracker music." and if we ever get married he suggested that our wedding song be "we right here" by dmx. yeah..i'm not playin'.

#4. S.B's: s.b's are both snuggle buddies and sweater buddies. although we have never officially tested these waters, jeff and i have agreed on several occasions that we would be good snuggle buddies (just sleeping..get your mind out of the gutter!) because we don't hog the entire bed, snore, or steal blankets like some people do. we also don't have bed-wetting tendencies..anymore. sweater buddies was created one night when we both wore similar sweaters to a party one night. of COURSE he looked better in his than i did in mine..grrrRRRRR way to show me up dude! i must, i must, i must increase my bust..

#5. HIS "ROYAL" ALTER-EGO: here's the scenario..it's a friday night and you have plans with a group of your friends..and one of these friends is jeff. the estimated time of departure for the evening's festivities is 8pm..but because of jeff's obsessive primping and grooming routine, you don't get out the door until roughly 1:45am. these beautification methods of epic proportions have earned jeff the title of "princess jeff" and are known far and wide by many of his royal subjects. tiara rentals available by appointment only.

#6. METAPHORICAL REFERENCES INVOLVING CHEESE: while cheese may be just a common deli topping to most people..jeff wields this lactose-infused wonder product in other astonishing ways. case in point: my sarcasm. i was once told that my weapon of choice loses its edge as the hours go by. jeff begs to differ, insisting that my wit is "sharp like the finest cheddar at any hour." if anyone else can come up with a simile of equal caliber i'd sure like to hear it..

#7. PSYCHIC TENDENCIES: when i informed mr. houle that i was going to make a top 10 list about him..he said there was no way that i would be able to come up with the intended number of items on my list. he was right. excuse me while i bow down.

..renting princess jeff's tiara for the weekend,
lex