Find a better pazyryk. Get back in contact with some old nomads. Take damekaris drawing. Cut down on my bookcrossing. Give some caer lutris to charity. Keep my shamanism clean.
I'm down with all that! Except I want to increase, not cut down, my bookcrossing. It's hard to keep my shamanism clean, though, because it always shrinks in the wash.
This blog of regrettable real estate listing photos is causing me to laugh so hard it hurts (literally... I have a sore throat... but I can't stop looking...)
The current list of what you may and may not carry on an airplane is more entertaining to read than I would have guessed. One is currently forbidden to carry on cattle prods, sabers, crowbars, throwing stars, gel shoe inserts, or snowglobes (and you can't even CHECK your hand grenade... what is the world coming to?). But you CAN have... spray cheese!
It is Whiskers' opinion that no resident humans should leave the house. Ever. Groceries should be delivered. Really, getting out of bed is largely unnecessary as well. Whoso breaketh this directive shall receive a merciless tongue-lashing. Whiskers has spoken.
You know, my estimation of Paris Hilton has just gone up quite a bit. This is her response to McCain's ad saying Obama is "just a celebrity, like Paris Hilton".
Now this is my idea of a music video. "I know, let's get a bunch of random baby animals and hang out on a sunny California hillside!" SO much better than the usual sneering black-clad rockers lamely lip-synching.