let the record reflect that the witness made the “drinky drinky” gesture

England’s Department of Health has categorized heavy drinkers into 9 categories.

  • Depressed
  • De-stress
  • Re-Bonding
  • Conformist
  • Community
  • Boredom
  • Macho
  • Hedonistic
  • Border Dependent

I’m confused, where is the “Alcohol is Delicious” (Gourmet Drinker? Foodie Drinker?) category? ‘Cause that’s definately the one I fall into. Sometimes I “fall” into it several times a week. Hey-o!

Seriously, though. I drink Belgian or Japanese beer, bloody marys, and mojitos because they taste great. The accompanying lightheadedness and mild euphoria is just an awesome side effect.


shorter* lady lynn forester de rothschild: “irony is dead.”

I, the aristocrat who married into the insanely wealthy Rothschild banking family (yes, those Rothschilds, the center of every byzantine banking conspiracy theory ever dreamed up), will not be casting my vote for Obama, when I mail it in from my husband Sir Evelyn Robert Adrian de Rothschild’s English country estate of Ascott House, where I go to seperate myelf from the plebes and the nouveaux riche, because I think he’s an elitist.

*”Shorter” concept stolen from Sadly, No!

it’s another poorly-lit video of junebug

Please to ignore the episode of House mumbling away in the background.

Bonus pet-related hilarity:

The ONE place in the house Maggie isn’t supposed to be is on the kitchen table. So naturally, we find her on it every time we turn around. There are 2 possible explanations for this:

  1. Sheer bloody-minded stubborness. “You don’t want me on the kitchen table? I’ll show you! YOU’RE NOT MY MOM, YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!!!”
  2. She likes being picked up, and knows I’ll pick her up if she’s on the table.

I think it started out as #1, but is now #2. I mean, she’s usually already purring by the time I pick her up. Probably if I yelled and poked her like Bonnie does, I wouldn’t find her on the table every 5 minutes. (She’s on it much less often when it isn’t just me at home.)

But I can’t yell at her. Look at her little adorable face! Besides, I don’t eat at that table anyway, what do I really care.