My puppets have arrived! In a big tangled mess in a shopping bag, where no doubt they've been for at least 20 years since IGA supermarket closed forever ago. Not a complete set however, Pirate is missing his head, and dog is missing his legs, and entire cat is missing. I have sent Dad on a mission to find them...I have this wild notion of restoring them, because, you know, I don't have enough weird shit in my house already. Sod it, if I'm never getting any wey-hey-hey ever again, I'm not gonna worry about the stuff in my house creeping people the fuck out anymore.

Show is good to go, save one print I'm still waiting on...

So Elizabeth Berkley of Saved By the Bell and Showgirls fame is doing a reality show. It's on Bravo so no doubt it will be masquerading as a legitimate search for real talent...*whatever*... If *I* ruled the world, the contestants would be vying for a spot in some high fallutin "gentleman's club", and upon elimination, they would receive a slap in the face from Berkley, who would then declare them "a whore, not a dancer" and deliver them a short sharp push down a metal staircase.