Saturday, December 30, 2006

Obligatory Look Back at 2006 (or an excuse not to write anything original today)

Here at the Thousand Anxiety Wood, we saw several memorable blog moments in 2006. Here are some odd phrases that seemed to make sense at the time:
  • Go Angry Filberts!
  • I'm taking partial responsibility in successfully fulfilling my job as Dead Weight.
  • I only wear shoes that rule. In case you were wondering.
  • This is where I always baaa quietly to myself.
  • I'm sure it has seen things that I would rather not ever see without a cleansing frontal lobotomy…
  • Those shoes are mine, betch.
  • Kind of like forced interpretive dance, with only one of us knowing the steps.
  • The Bloody Stump
  • Dammit, and damn their fascist rules.
  • Almighty Father, please stop making jerks. Amen.
  • I walked away slowly, so as not to look too delicious...
  • Sub-elite level cyclist.
  • It’s garbage day, Frozen Pizza Boy.
  • I’m a slow reader. But jolly. Okay, I’m not jolly.
  • Drew to Dean, whose head is wrapped in a wet scarf: Is that cool?
  • Dean: If by "cool," you mean, "awesome."
  • Oscar Pereiro trying to answer journalists' questions in English: ("I...[unintelligible]...go faster...[unintelligible garble]...zen I hear...Floyd garble garble...[long pause]...[unintelligible] yallow jersey...sank you").
  • My son is a vicious pirate.
  • Hear me now and believe me later. George Hincapie will win the Tour.
  • I have been training for the weekend by wearing an underwire bra for two days in a row.
  • "I am about to fall asleep in the most hostile way."
  • I apologize for continuing to publish posts that I feel compelled to apologize for.
  • My friends, I give you the Visayan Warty Pig. Gaze not too long, lest ye lose all hope of matching such beauty with thine own humble visage.
  • I love children. I believe that children are the future. I just don’t like the way they act, sound, or smell.
  • "Each pig, dressed in a numbered bib, was carried squealing into the arena for each event."
  • Phrase of the week: dysfunctional douche-nozzles
  • Viva los oysters el nudo!
  • No, don't call me pathetic. How about "rather troubled but dealing with it quite bravely"?
  • “The wettest month since (whatever)!” “Flooding in (everywhere with a river)!)”
  • But if you played me one of those 60’s happy-sunshine songs right now, I would seriously slug you.
  • My oven has a button that says "Stop Time." I haven't tried it yet.
  • That said, walking into American Apparel is – well, it’s a cross between Term Project Day at Home Ec class and a look at the first clothing shop to open after a Mad Max-like apocalypse where the only thing left is one sterno-powered sewing machine and a truck full of jersey fabric, hijacked after being mistaken for a load of hooch.
  • It’s not quite jersey weather in the Great Northwest. It’s tarp weather.
  • The rest of the day, I walked around like somebody trying not to wake a panther sleeping on her head (a panther that has a tendency to be cross when wakened).
  • This is Janice “Storm Saxon” McTracy, signing off and heading for the tub.”

1 comment:

Drew said...

A shifters are dysfunctional douche-nozzles. 4 hours on a cooking fire...seriously??