birthday wish-listing

Because the birthday is only TWO months away. Freaking out convo will be saved for another day. Um, yeah. SO, first item on the list - Life-size cardboard standup of the walking talking sex bomb otherwise known as Karl Urban as Dr. Leonard "Bones" McCoy, GQMF:

wherein i roar back into the blogosphere with a post about vulcan sex

"Apparently I'm like the only person on the planet who didn't immediately start thinking of Vulcans having lots of sex and babies with that whole rebuilding their race thing in the Spock and Spock scene at the end of Star Trek!!! We were leaving the movie and C was all "I'd totally like to rebuild the Vulcan race with him!" "Yup and double yup - lots of sex & babies for Spock Prime" "I was all "Doh! I am so dense!" "You're just not as dirty as the rest of us." "Not that I want to launch into a defense of my having a dirty mind, but I generally consider myself pretty quick with the...dirty-mindedness." *sigh* "True. Maybe you just believed that Vulcans would be less...base?" "I don't know. I think maybe I'm just dense." "Not at all. Something about it just didn't add up to mad-cap sex for you." "Exactly. They're Vulcans!" "Zey gots tuh gets duh babeez somehow." "But Spock Prime is so OLD! Like 160 years old or something, so how could "rebuilding our race" equate to lots of sex for him?" "I think the name says it all. 160 is his prime." "That is so WRONG." "He came into his sexual confidence very late in life - hey, in human years, he's probably still younger than Larry King!" "Eeewww! You just compared Spock to Larry King! Star Trek FOUL." "Just pointing out that age is relative and may not be relevant. He's still a Vulcan hottie and those genes have got places to go." "In petri dishes somewhere in a vulcan lab, no doubt!" "Nope - vulcans like it the old fashioned way. Do you really think that Sarek was with a human for her mind?" "Oh the ROFLing wrongness of this whole conversation."

sun worshiper

Jack turns to the east-southeast view of the mountains from my bedroom window every morning now, watching the sun come up. As if that daily happening is suddenly more interesting than following me around as I grudgingly get ready for another day at work.

oh the fun of randomly firing synapses

Opening scene in last night's extended dream weirdness: Big boss comes up to my desk at work, handing me a piece of paper, and says: "Now don't go marrying anyone - I need my reports." Later: I'm teaching U.S. History to a bunch of young kids - 3rd grade maybe - and I decide to skip the first half of the book and start with the Civil War because "I think they'll find that more interesting."