overeducated and underemployed

one-thirty-one-oh-five

Mondays.

happy birthday, mr. vice president

Let your light so shine before men. And right behind your giant, menacing noggin.

one-twenty-eight-oh-five

It's your last chance Mr. Cheney. Are you going to leave this crazy bitch for me, or what?

one-twenty-seven-oh-five

Behold! My 2005 Inaugural Celebration souvenir snow globe.

one-twenty-six-oh-five

His people told him that this camera angle would make him look powerful and manly, but Dick had his doubts.

one-twenty-five-oh-five

Are you bored and listless? Do you have trouble sleeping? Do you feel like you're on a sinking ship, that is going down despite your good looks and charm? Ask your doctor about Paxil, today.

one-twenty-four-oh-five

Cheney can rub his head, but can he pat his tummy? And can he do them both at the same time?

a cheney a day while megan's away!

Welcome to my last day of work as a single woman.  Sadly, my last day of  work also constitutes my last full day of blogging for the next two weeks (Horrors. I know.). But fear not my sweets! Your need for Vice Presidential posing will be requited, even in my absence. I am hereby pledging to you a Cheney a day, while I am away. Starting now.

Here, George and Laura Bush look on in delight as Vice President Dick Cheney demonstrates precisely how he plans to urinate on your civil liberties.

[ed note: to clarify, these will be work days. also, please feel free to add captions of your own! cheney is for everyone, truly.]

lesbian foreshadowing

Truly, the greatest of all literary devices...Here, let me put this blanket over you Marissa...oh, wait, what? You're bi-curious? Oops! I seemed to have brushed against your arm. Whatever will we do about that? Honestly, the only thing gayer than Coop last night was the directorial choice to have her first meeting with Ryan momentarily flicker on the windshield of his car. Ah, the vague projection of last season's memories....so very touching.

Meanwhile, was anyone else disappointed that Lindsay wasn't flailing around in the sea? And no, I'm not saying that because I want her character to go the way of the lawn-boy; I just think the drama there is better. Ryan saves Lindsay, and then yells at Marissa. Even better, Ryan cradles a barely-alive Lindsay in his arms and uses her limp, soaked limbs to gesticulate wildly at Marissa, while yelling. Genius!

How am I not writing for this show?

*Update!* Bonus pictoral commentary on the ridiculous Mischa/Lindsay lunch scene courtesy of k-na:

seeing stars with chino chang!

Today's Edition: Groggy Gilmore

Early yesterday morning the office was abuzz about the possibility that Adam Sandler was in the building. Of course, being the sleuth that I am, I immediately took to the task of tracking down our favorite SNL alum. After a thorough search, and no sign of Sandler, I had given up and retreated back to my office. As I walked to the elevator, suddenly, there he was! In all his glory, there was Wheelchair Bound Adam Sandler. He was so obviously anesthesized (the slurred speech and unnecessary giggling clued me in). I have to say, I was more entertained by 2 minutes in the elevator with WBAS than I've been by the last 3 years of lucid Sandler movies.

It's been a slow month for star gazing, but don't fret. Tonight I am off to Park City, UT for some wining, dining, and Sundancing. I'm sure to come back with a story or two, provided that I'm not kidnapped and "forced" into Mormancy and a life of polygamy, baby making, and goat farming.