Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Xalion's Myth

I'm kind of grouchy today. I should probably have gone and done something relaxing (like nap) instead of writing this but, well, it's too late now.

Xalion is my Danish friend & is sometimes also referred to as Samurai X (I had a dream that he and I were samurai warriers who could fly) and The Viking (self-explan.) He told me about a Danish myth that if you drink 100 bottles of vodka you are granted a wish, much in the Japanese, 1000-crane tradition but with less fiddly origami and more vomiting. I guess the idea is that you wish for a new liver? I'm pretty sure he made this up but I like it anyway.

Originally spelt Japanese 'Pajanese' and am now obsessed with the Pajanese culture. I bet their primary mode of transport is the motorized armchair. Andrea brought up her desire for a motorized armchair yesterday and I seized upon it with the eagerness of a small child. How much would a motorized La-Z-Boy (dumbest spelling ever) rock? Obviously it would have a recliner, but it would also have a little canopy, and a beer fridge, and a blankie for those cold nights coming home from I don't know, dates and stuff. I would be quite happy trundling along in a motorized armchair. I know someone will already have made one, but still.

In other news, Zach has posited that Swine Flu is the beginning of the end. The undead, flesh-eating end. Full story here - http://sleep500.com/item/367 - I don't have any of my bookmarks on this computer so I don't have easy access to hyperlinking thingy and I refuse to do it the hard way. Call him paranoid (or insane) but I think he could be onto something. Get yourself a plan, people. Holing up in your house is not a good idea; neither is covering yourself in bits of rotting flesh in an attempt to fit in with the zombies. Zach says oil rig; I say boat. Either way, when the invasion comes I'ma be at the harbour. Yo Zach I have a question about this: are zombies in any way organised? Because if they have some kinda quasi-military system then we're all fucked. I should do some research. Obviously I lack direction. I should go and get a degree or something. (BZom.)

In other other news, (or, if you prefer, 'news') everyone in my family (except me) is wearing a turtleneck today. Why do people even make these hideous articles of clothing? Why? Who wants to have a neck like a turtle? Kate came in and said, "Are you telling the Internet about my skivvy?" Yes, yes I am. Even though they doubtless will not care. If having a warm neck is that important to you, buy a damn scarf. Sorry to any turtleneckers in today's audience but hey, you should stop necking with turtles that is bestiality and is illegal. Also your sweater is weird.

Because I am apparently a five-year-old, one of Brooke's comments has led me to revive the ancient art of adding 'in my pants' to the end of song titles. I limited myself to five, but it turned into ten.

Anything Goes (in my pants)
I Drove All Night (in my pants)
Hungry Like The Wolf (in my pants)
Leather and Tattoos (in my pants)
Love Changes Everything (in my pants)
Tequila (in my pants)

My Happy Ending (in my pants)
No Ordinary Thing (in my pants)
Pretty Fly (on my pants?)
Think of Me (in my pants)


I feel like I should be able to follow that up with some insanely witty and learned historical/political joke, but all I can think of is 'Where did Napoleon keep his armies? Up his sleevies!' I am failing at life a bit today. Bring on the zombies.

I have a date this weekend. Anyone want to lend me their motorized armchair? Or tell me what I should wear?

No, not the jumpsuit.

15 comments:

NRT said...

Hm, Pixies songs produce some interesting results.

Where is My Mind? (in my pants)
Caribou (in my pants)
Bone Machine (in my pants)
Wave of Mutilation (in my pants)
Monkey Gone to Heaven (in my pants)
Allison (in my pants)
Here Comes Your Man (in my pants)
...

So, skivvies promote bestiality and look weird (agree) but scarves are faggy? Neckwarming options are limited.
...

I would tell you what to wear if I had any clue about such things. Am not Trinny/Susannah though. I think you'll look good in almost anything. Because you're goodlookin'.

Go learn some dang Spanish.

Andrea Eames said...

So Not Really Trevor has gone Anonymous? OH THE INTRIGUE. THE CUNNING.

Am relieved to find out that he is neither Trinny nor Susannah, though, because I have to admit those were my first two guesses.

Also:

She'll be coming round the mountain (in my pants)

WV: Demetra. Female superhero whose super-power is making people go mad and forget where they put their reading glasses.

IT IS ALLY said...

NRT - SNEAKY DISGUISE MISTER.

Neck warming is easy, grow a full neck beard! No wait please don't. Not all scarves are faggy, is a tricky judgment call. I will assist by making helpful comments.

Nice work with the Pixies songs.


Andrea - I think you maybe just implied alzheimer's is a superpower. lucky you said it on my blog, not yours :D

Andrea Eames said...

Who says it isn't? Could be the reason Alzheimers exists. YOU DON'T KNOW DO YOU.

Maybe you should consult friend who wrote story about inaccurate Alzheimers symptoms, he'll know.

Gary said...

My vote is for Stirrup pants. They leave an impression.

Also Monkey Gone to Heaven (in my pants) is the best thing Ive heard in the last 3 hours.

IT IS ALLY said...

I used to LOVE stirrup pants. Nice pun, if that was intentional, which I so hope it was. I had two identical pairs of royal blue stirrup pants with gold stripe.

Andrea - think you are right and that Alzheimer's is caused by superhero.

Have no idea which friend you are talking about, am sure story was magnificent, like that story I left over there earlier, would you like a winegum?

Andrea Eames said...

I can't understand a word you're saying because suddenly I am a parrot.

Xalion said...

The "myth" is true. . I drank 100 bottles of vodka, and wished for a liver failure ^^

Johnny Cash - Leave That Junk Alone (in my pants)

ratiz (word verification)
A mighty hip rat wizard, with +5 alcohol resistance ^^

IT IS ALLY said...

X - I also liked 'I Heard That Lonesome Whistle Blow (in my pants)'

Johnny Cash has some pretty good contributions. Saying Ring of Fire would be a little obvious, wouldn't it?

how'd it turn out with the liver failure? 'cause if you didn't actually get that wish I'm not about to drink 100 bottles of vodka for nothing. Ha ha ha. Yes I totally am.

IT IS ALLY said...

Just had lunch with Kate, who wished to contribute the following:

Shine a Light (in my pants)
You'll Never Have a Friend Like Me (in your pants)

and the entire Robbie Williams back catalogue.

Strong (in my pants)
Better Man (in my pants)
Come Undone (in my pants)
She's The One (in my pants)
Jesus In A Campervan (in my pants)
Feel (in my pants)

and my personal favourite,
Let Me Entertain You (in my pants)

I swear, the man must write his songs in his pants.

NRT said...

I have restaurant suggestions in my pants. (Literally – on post-it notes in my pocket).

IT IS ALLY said...

You are mad. I am going on a date with a madman!

Yay yay where are we going?

Because comment thread is totally not an inappropriate forum for this discussion.

Anonymous said...

I thought Justin Timberlake was the best 'in my pants' subject, but apparently Robbie truly is the master of all.

@ NRT: LOL @ the Caribou. That sounds painful!

I personally am a fan of the skivvy. Scarves are awesome, but there's always that band of skin that's left bare between where your shirt ends and the scarf starts at the back of your neck. *shivers*

(btw I answered your launch the chicken question in that comment thread on my blog :-P)

Kaileigh said...

Not a fan of turtlenecks either... though they could be useful for hiding my double chin? :P Or would that make the problem worse?

And I hate La-Z-Boy's spelling. That's driven me nuts for years. It should at least be Lay-Z-Boy if anything....

sleep500 said...

Yo, zombies can't organise themselves but they generally gravitate toward living flesh because that is what they eat even though they can't really digest or anything.

Zombies can't turn a door-knob but when there are three hundred of them outside, doors won't really matter any more.