I have been feeling kind of weird lately, kinda feeling like my life is a ball of twine that I dropped a few months ago and I've been trying to roll it all back into something comprehensible since then. But enough about me, let's talk about ManBabies.

When things are a bit screwy it's nice to know that someone out there has invented the ManBaby, like a LolCatz picture only for the seriously fucked up (and bored at work). The idea? Take a picture of a man holding or interacting with a baby and switch the heads around. That's right, fearsome and funny like you wouldn't believe.

Also and pleasantly, these images give me the feeling that even if I haven't opened an official looking envelope in about 5 months, and even though I keep saying I have work to do and then going to the gym for about 2.5 hours to sing gay dance songs under my breath and pretend jumping to the bass-beat = mastery of life's challenges. Despite my own ineptitude, there are people out there Photoshopping men's heads onto babies bodies! SO in fact I am doing okay.

Anyways, check it out...

These are my favorites:

When all else fails, stare at some ManBabies.

I was just searching the McGill classifieds for a used flat-screen monitor when I came across this post:

NEW APPLE IPHONE AND IPOD TOUCH, NEW BLACKBERRY, NEW VERSACE PURSE
Posted Friday, May 2, 2008
My brothers gave me an apple iphone, apple ipod touch, a blackberry and a versace purse along w some other stuff, but i already have an iphone, don't need the blackberry and i have too many versace purses already!......they are all brand new in their box/wraps.....want to sell them.....make me an offer......

Don't you hate when that happens?? The other day my brothers gave me a portable DVD player, a pair of D&G sunglasses and a wallet full of credit cards. But I already have those! So I am selling them to the public at rock-bottom prices. Thanks Bros' next time just get me a Chapters gift certificate okay?

I was just leaving a comment about Steven's insanely accurate new rating system:

Yeah I know - move over stars here comes Steven and his taffy apple.

I have been reading this book called the "Fireside Book of Dog Stories" (more on that in a separate post later) that was compiled in 1942 or 52, it must have been 52 no-one was compiling fireside books during the war.

Anyways, two or three of the stories in that book are by James Thurber and E.B White.

Anglophone young'uns will recognize the second author. He wrote Charlotte's Web, Stuart Little and the Trumpet of the Swan, among other classic stories. Thurber is known for his cartooning and humour writing in the New Yorker.

I have such a profound admiration for these two writers. They are witty and critical, and what's surprising to a reader of contemporary satire, they are not profoundly negative.

So today, as a reward for buying a piece of clothing that causes me to sing Otto Titsling under my breath involuntarily, I treated myself to some books at the Westmount Library book sale. At the book sale, (and this is why book sales are fun, because you find the weirdest stuff) I found a little book called "Is Sex Necessary" written by none other then my two men of the hour J Thurber and E.B White, in 1929 no less.

To the boys in my life. #1/ Get over it. #2/ Consider this a shot across the bow. If you see my eyes get glassy while I stare at you closely, and if I'm like rubbing my belly and it seems I am doing mental arithmetic, you should either head for the hills, or pour a bucket of cold water on me stat.

I write this as much for your sake as mine ;)

So I was discussing the romantic single life with Tanya today, and I told her about this theory, I am not sure if I have mentioned it on the blog yet. It's technically not my theory, Kristy R. who is a friend of Lauren's thought it up and told it to us at some event one time and I loved it.

So the theory is that when you meet a potential date, there are two major players in the decision as to whether the potential is a worthy one or not. The first player is the head and the second is the vagina, or the vageen, as some younger folk like to call it.