JohannaLonn.com – Weblog

Testes: one, two… three?!

Moving the alarm clock worked. Got up and outta bed at 6:10. Plenty of time to gym, quick shower and get to work on time.

Sweet.

Another random convo with my sister.

C: I hate green melon
I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say it’s not good

J: I hate melon, period. Except watermelon.

C: you don’t like the orange one/
?

J: Nope

C: cantalope…forgot its name for a bit

J: Haven’t met a melon that I like except watermelon.

C: that’s melon racist yo

J: I’m melonist?

C: yup
melonist

J: No..
I am..
MELON LORD!!!!
;]

C: you’re one of those self-hating melons

J: LMAO!

C: ashamed of your meloness

Is it impossible to become a new fan? Even if you used to watch sports and just fell out of it for a while? Unless you’ve been rabidly watching every game since the beginning of time you have no idea how the game works and couldn’t possibly get into it?

After watching a few games of football and baseball this season I’ve found that I actually enjoy it. But when try to get into convo’s with friends about it, I’m met with harsh criticism and just loads of crap! “You don’t know anything about baseball/football!” “You don’t know what you’re talking about, go ask so & so.” Umm.. I think after being raised as an A’s fan (Ooohh namedrop!) and living with football fans for 3 years, I think know a little bit about how each game is played.

Well SF, as much as I’d like to, I am not allowed to be a fan of your teams. I’m sorry.

I’m so glad nerds are more accepting of new people into their folds. I’m off to watch some anime now. I don’t care if you just started watching yesterday, that makes me glad and I’ll be happy to rap with your about it!

J: I want a candy dish fulla Talbart.

C: That’s just sticky. How would you explain it to guests?

J: Sangria?

C: It’s like the candy dish from Hannibal Lecter’s coffee table.

C: Mmm.. sweetbreads..

J: Mmm.. brains.. and entrails!

J: I hope to someday have a decorative dish fulla K’s remains.. whatever form they may be in.

C: Aching to add something to the collection of wooden cats then eh?

J: He’d get mantle space.

J: “Wow J, nice hi def TV! What’s that urn above it?” “The remains of my first husband.. wait, where are you going?”

Not in the “Oh I’m so sad that you’re out of work” way. In the “I’m green with envy because you can stay up late and have fun” way. Don’t get me wrong, I love hangin’ out and throwing back brews with my best buds but I gotta knock it off. I’ve been consistently late to work and I can’t afford to lose my job – 1. Because I really do love my job and 2. Because I’m not able to live quite so comfortably on unemployment.

Plus, I should spend more time at home since I’m paying through the nose for it.

I’m sure that would make my cat very happy! ;]

“You’re so beautiful when you hate the world.”
“I don’t hate you.”
“I don’t hate you too.”

Progression so far…

Stuffed Bell Peppers!

..with some sort of cucumber salad. I haven’t decided on cucumber crab or cucumber tomato.

Pictures and recipe will follow..

When I was a young, impressionable youngin’ I had the good fortune of being dragged into our local Hot Topic (Hellhole) and stumbling across a little comic titled “Johnny The Homicidal Maniac” by the great Jhonen Vasquez, and fell instantly in love. Particularly with the two Styrofoam Pillsbury dough boys that were manifestations of the voices spoke to our beloved protagonist, Nny! At some point, I came across a Pillsbury dough boy cookie jar and was sparked with the idea to paint the cute little cookie jar to resemble one of the twisted dough boys.

Tee hee hee.. muahahahaAHAHAHAHAHA!

The idea always sat in the back of my mind because I knew I couldn’t make just one of them. They are an inseparable pair and must remain as such. Since Bed Bath & Beyond isn’t in the habit of selling vintage dough-boy cookie jars, my little man just sat in my room waiting patiently to release the evil. And wait he did. Silently over many years and through four moves, during which I would be asked the inevitable questions: Why do you have this thing? Why are you keeping it? Why do I have to wrap it up and move it?! And I would always answer: Someday, his mate will come to me and I will have Mr. Fuck and Psychodoughboy!

As luck would have it, about a year ago, I was in one of the numerous antique shops in Martinez when I saw him:

MR. FUCK!

I was ready to pay anything for him! Knowing how maniacal collectors can get and how adored this little guy is as a character, I was sure I’d be shelling out $60, $70, $80 bucks for him! So I cradled him like a baby and brought him up to the counter with tears in my eyes and awaited the news of how much I was going to be out for by beloved Mr. Eff…

$20 bucks.

SQUEE!! I threw the money at the woman and ran out screaming before she could change her mind! (I’m sure that woman is still confused to this day by “The Girl & The Dough Boy Cookie Jar”) I took him home and put him in his rightful place next to what will become Psychodoughboy. They sat on my kitchen table for a while, being silently adored by me every time I entered my kitchen. One day I sat down at my kitchen table with my Directors Cut copy of Johnny The Homicidal Maniac and read it cover to cover with my dough boys and then decided who would be who..

Mr. Eff (Fuck) is the one with the Z? on his chest. He is the one who is always urging Nny to keep killing and painting the wall with blood. (Read the comic, it will make sense.. sort of.) So I decided my newly acquired dough boy in the lust for life “I’m singing to the heavens” pose would be him.

Psychodoughboy is the one with FUCK on his chest and is the much more depressing of the two. He wants poor Nny to kill himself (What fun is that?) so I decided my original dough boy in the plain-jane “I’m hugging my belly cause I’m squishy and it’s cute” pose would be him.

"As you may already know, I tried to kill you. I see how that could be construed as a bad thing, but the part that understands that is not the one running things in my little world."

And once again, they sit for a while. Silently waiting for their master to breath sweet, maniacal life into them while I figure out the best way to go about transforming them. Paint? Sharpie? Do I sand them down? Strip them? How do you go about painting what I’m assuming is porcelain so that it will last long after the earth is reduced to smoldering rubble? These are questions that I brought up to some of my more crafty friends one drunken night at Cam’s. So of course I had to tell them the whole story because and they brought up a good point – What if these dough boys are worth money? How much money would it take for them to be worth more to me than my precious Mr. Eff and PDB? After showing said friends the pictures of Mr. Eff and PDB that notion went out the window. Who cares how much they are worth!? You HAVE to do this! (Consequently, they dough boys are worth around $60 bucks each. Mr. Eff and PDB are worth WAY more to me than that!)

And so the journey begins. Last Sunday, my most talented sister started in on PDB. Unfortunately (record scratching noise) I drunkenly mixed them up, so she started drawing Mr. Eff on PDB!!

FUUUUUUUUUUCK. What do I dooooooo?

She suggested just switching the heads being as that’s as far as she got but of course, they don’t fit.

FUUUUUUUUCK… What do I DOOOOOO!?!

When I had finally accepted the fact that they would be switched it hit me: Nail polish remover! I tried it and it worked like a charm! We’re back in business. So last night I laid down the beginnings of Mr. Eff, and now they are taking over my world! I can think of nothing else until they are completed. I have a pile of scratch paper and two Sharpies at my desk right now and I can’t stop drawing! Soon my two twisted dough boys will rest on either side of my television.

"Nothing quite brings out the zest for life in a person like the thought of their impending death. I see by the looks of you that you understand."