Welcome to my wonderful, terrible, soap opera sit-com world.


Friday, June 29, 2007

 
Shitty Blog Survivor Journal -- Week 3

So this morning we all got up, and Mike was gone. If I didn't know any better (and I don't, really) I would assume that the other survivors ate him the way I suspect they ate Sparky. I'm really glad that I've hoarded up all these coconuts and have figured out the whole cookie thing.

Cookies are yum.

When I was out in the jungle taking my morning walk and gathering coconuts, I wasn't watching where I was going and tripped over a mess of vines stretching across what I thought was the path. I followed the vines for a couple of feet and found a watermelon. Then another. And another. And another, and another, and another.

I'm pretty convinced Jeckles has this island wired with closed-circuit, because it's not long after that we got a bottle message washing up on shore telling us that we had to have a watermelon-carving contest. Sort of like a pumpkin-carving contest. But with watermelons.

I'm not sure how the hell I'm going to carve a watermelon without a knife... I did have my nails done before we got on board the "cruise" (DAMN YOU JECKLES), so I guess that puts me at least ahead of the remaining men. I haven't paid enough attention to which other ladies are manicureholics like me... I suppose I should do that.

I guess I better go find something to make a knife out of. Maybe if Utopia has killed one of her turtles for soup, I can find a chunk of shell. There's got to be SOMETHING.

I could always break this rum bottle Tammy gave me...

Rose typed all this stuff at 2:17 PM | #

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Wednesday, June 27, 2007

 
Shitty Blog Survivor Task Two: Photojournalism
















































































































































Rose typed all this stuff at 8:08 AM | #

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Shitty Blog Survivor Journal -- Week Two

I've been playing with this camera-looking box, and have decided that it does in fact take pictures. It's weird though, the ones that come out, they come out looking kind of ... odd.

It took me a while to get used to using it, I'm sure I got some pictures of my feet or my eyeball, but I tried to use it to take some shots of what life is like around here. I'm going to see if I can organize them into some kind of an album or something, because people won't believe me when I tell them about it.

If I ever get home.

DAMN JECKLES DAMN DAMN.

Rose typed all this stuff at 7:54 AM | #

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Monday, June 25, 2007

 
Shitty Blog Survivor Journal: Week Two

Okay. I've hoarded enough coconuts to feed myself and others for a couple of months. I've rigged a small solar-powered toaster oven and have made coconut cookies. I've scribbled slogans until I was, well, tired of scribbling slogans.

I have watched my fellow islanders all go a little bit insane.

And I think I'm with them.

This weekend while I was out in the forest looking for something fruity to mix Tammy's rum with (she offered some to me while hanging out of a tree) I found a little plastic and metal box with a lens on one side and a little peephole on the other.

I think it might be some kind of camera, although I really have no idea how to work it. I have shaken it and stuff, and it doesn't rattle, so I'm just going to assume in my limited technical capacity that means it ain't broke.

I'm going to see if I can get it to work.

In other news, I woke up on Friday morning and Sparky was gone. I haven't really had the time or inclination to talk to any of the crazies about where he might have gone, but I suspect somebody chopped him up and put him in the soup.

Poor Sparky.

Rose typed all this stuff at 7:17 AM | #

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Monday, June 18, 2007

 
Shitty Blog Survivor Journal

Well, balls. BALLS, BALLS, BALLS, I SAY.

I just overheard Monty saying that Utopia has figured out how to make coconut liqueur, and is sipping it.

Monty's losing her mind a little bit. she's over there scribbling in her journal but she's saying every word out loud as she writes, which is more than a little bit creepy. Also, she thinks I spit in her cookie, so I should find some way to protect myself lest she come over here in the middle of the night and try to give me a little what-for.

While I was standing up ogling Utopia's coconut liqueur sippage, the wind kicked up and blew all of my scribbles and notes (pre pen-dying) of the different slogans, plus other diary entries, out into the ocean where they were promptly carried off. I wasn't going to go out into the shark-infested waters to get them, and anybody who thinks I should have can kiss my butt.

So I guess that original message in a bottle to Jeckles, with my Shitty Blogs Club slogan:

Shitty Blogs Club: Demented and Sad, but Social

... is going to have to cut the mustard. Thank goodness I got one of them in a bottle and out to sea before the FREAK WIND CAME A-BLOWIN'.

I've managed to scrounge up some pineapples, so if you couple that with my coconuts, I am 1/2 way to a pina colada. Now I just need some ice and some rum. Where's Johnny Depp with a hidden stash of pirate rum when you need him?

MMMMMMMMmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Johnny Depp.

MMMMMMmmmmmmmmmmMMMmmmm. Pirate rum.

DAMN YOU JECKLES, DAMN YOU AND YOUR THREE HOUR TOUR!

Rose typed all this stuff at 10:40 AM | #

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Shitty Blog Survivor Journal

Day whatever. Who knows what day it is anyway?

I have hoarded and roasted enough coconuts to feed people for a long time. That was the least of my problems, it seemed, so I set about trying to make booze. That also failed miserably.

The minutes and hours have been running together here on the island, but I've mostly been keeping to myself. It seems like I've just been filled with thoughts of everything but coconuts lately.

This SLOGAN thing keeps being on my mind, and I become more and more concerned that no one has actually seen Jeckles.

I've been napping a lot. A LOT. Is that normal? For being on an island?

Yesterday, my pen ran out of ink as I was scribbling down slogans. This is as far as I got:

Shitty Blogs Club: You know you want to.

Shitty Blogs Club: Don't fool yourself, you belong here.

Shitty Blogs Club: Jeckles can take this piece of paper and st *runs out of ink*

I don't think i'm doing very well in the slogan department.

Rose typed all this stuff at 7:07 AM | #

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Tuesday, June 12, 2007

 
Shitty Blog Survivor Journal


THIS IS A TOTAL RIP OFF.

So my brief hiatus from blogging gets interrupted when I let Jeckles talk me into signing up for a Shitty Blogs Club Cruise and we get stranded on an island. I would ask for my money back if it hadn't been free. I didn't even get a cocktail. NOT EVEN A COCKTAIL.

Now here I am marooned on this godforsaken island with nine other bloggers (who I have a sneaking suspicion would like to off me) and no functioning kitchen, no nice bottle of wine, no caribbean music, not even a blanket on which to lay in the sand and tan my toesies.

Today I spent part of the day hiking around trying to find the makeshift fixins for a shelter. I managed to build myself a crude hut out of palm fronds and twigs and reeds, while also managing to build a spectacularly au-natural solar toaster oven that I put to quick use roasting coconuts. When they're all starving and I'm the lady with the coconuts, THEN who's going to have the upper hand, huh? HUH?

Note to self: please make time to find a source for clear cool water, as dehydration appears to be taking its toll on what was left of my sanity before I signed up for this horseshit!

I found a bottle on the beach today with a note inside it. Apparently, Jeckles set it adrift on the waves as a plea from his remote location... leave it to him to be thinking about promoting the Shitty Blogs Club while we're all stranded on a goddamned island. He's asking for a new slogan for the Shitty Blogs Club.

I quickly pounded some paper out of palm tree pulp, picked a peck of pickled peppers, and put my palm pulp product back in the bottle in the hopes that it would find Jeckles. Scrawled on the paper were the words: Shitty Blogs Club: Demented And Sad, But Social. I made a lot of paper, so if I can find some more bottles I can try to send him some more.

This is a pretty nice little island now that I think about it. It'd be great if I didn't have nine neighbors to share it with. Maybe I'll just stick around and move in on their real estate as they each take a hike.

Note to self: learn how to build a real house out of palm tree fronds and twigs. Also, learn how to make booze.

Rose typed all this stuff at 1:55 PM | #

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My job as a military wife is
to make it as easy as possible
for my beloved husband to do his job.
Where he leads, I will follow.


Name: Rose
Age: 36
Religion: Pagan
Husband: SSgt, USAF
Current Location: Tinker AFB, OK
Job: Self-Employed Transcriptionist
and Domestic Goddess

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me @ consumating



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