shanmonster | What is This Thing Called Life?

My life is fucked up. I say this as a neutral statement, and not as a negative one. For instance, last night I dreamed I was humouring chubby mentally handicapped mermaids. I shit you not. They gamboled about in a large swimming pool, giving me "martinis" (pool water in martini glasses), which I pretended to drink. One of these Downs Syndrome-afflicted merfolk had breasts growing from the top of her head. I woke up baffled and amused.

My day job is pretty weird, too. My first task of the week was to dress in an oversized pink flamingo suit and stand around on the sidewalk, waving at passers-by. The whole time, I kept thinking how I could be doing something actually useful. Now, I am almost never bored. But when I'm trapped in a situation where I am not given the chance to occupy myself, I do get rather antsy. Standing on the side of the street in the progressively cold weather was one of those scenarios. I practiced singing for a while (yes, a singing pink flamingo). I attempted some kung fu forms (even more laughable, and I gave up on that very quickly because the suit impeded me too much). I attempted a few dance drills. Eventually, I found myself waving at passers by while making very rude hand and arm gestures, obfuscated, of course, by my flappy, flappy wings. I was pretty unhappy with the whole scenario, but I'm glad I brought schadenfreude to the masses.

My night job is amusing. On Wednesday, I showed a bunch of senior citizens the best way to shake their boobies around. Heh....

For the past few days, I've been boiling leather and riveting armour together, all so I can alternate between freezing my arse off and broiling in my own sweat while pretending to be an elf warrior. How fucked up is that?

I'm still flaking bits of fake blood off my leather pants from last weekend's gig.

Last night, when it became apparent a certain technique just didn't work on me, I was told by my Sifu I have "interesting elbows." I take this as a compliment. Of course, other techniques work just fine on me. And yes, I do have those annoying pressure points low down in my biceps, where things crunch unsettlingly.

Two nights ago I DJed a retro night while dressed up in full-on ATS dance garb.

Today I do yoga and Pilates, eat sushi, teach a dance class, and attend a gamer meeting where we discuss the logistics of LARP and perhaps make more boffer weapons. Tomorrow, I go to Toronto to attend a dance workshop with California dance artist Heather Shoopman, and then I return back home to Kitchener to attend a pirate-themed stag and doe party for a couple of people I don't really know.

In another week, I attend a psychobilly show with an old friend. We'll be dressed in the sort of costumes which would give my mother heart palpitations.

I found out I'm going to have a nephew. The scans show he has a large dingus and only one kidney. His name is Ralph. When

raine_storm asked if he should be cut or uncut, I said uncut, bu with a Prince Albert.

My life is fucked up, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Link time.

Elephants sense 'danger' clothes: "St Andrews University researchers found that elephants could recognise the degree of danger posed by different groups of individuals." I have a similar reaction to frat boys.

Artist Chains Up Dog Until It Dies. Is This Art? Or Animal Abuse?: This irks me, but who's to say art doesn't preclude abuse?

Robot Cannon Kills 9, Wounds 14: "A female artillery officer risked her life... in a desperate bid to save members of her battery from the gun." Sci-fi becomes fact (thanks,

tdj).

Silhouette of late Pope seen by some in Polish fire photo: Like Jesus on a tortilla (thanks,

snowy_kathryn).