bright light city

So let's recap.

Boss: gone.

Male-type-person-who-might-have-been-boyfriend-material: gone.

Me: stuck here.

So let's focus on the positive. I'm still here and I'm still painting like a fiend. Speaking of which: back home my best friend and I used to organize this thing called Art Crawl! where all the people in our building, a renovated warehouse full of illegal subletters who were all artists, would come together and show off. And sometimes we'd have themes and everybody would hang their art and the ones who perform would perform and Lacey - she's my roommate, she's a confrontational spoken-word performance artists - would do her thing and Noser would play Stump the Band and it was overall awesome.

Are there any other artistic types around here who'd be interested in something like this?

WHOA! There's some SERIOUSLY WRONG here!! MISSING body parts and have an EXTRA one! WTF is going on?! WTF!!!!!!!!

EDIT: And it wobbles! WOBBLES!!! How the hell do you guys WALK AROUND WITH A WOBBLEY PARRT?!

Wendy Watson

I see we've been set up on this blind date. I'm Benjamin Linus. Would you like to speak before, or...? I suppose maybe that defeats the purpose of a blind date, doesn't it?

Right then, let's get this started. I mean, who'd have thought it would have taken getting shocked by my toaster to start this off? I tell you, what was locked in that mans brain? He might be brilliant, but he was missing so much; just a little bit of human, now me. Oh I could teach him so much, all of you actually. Best temp in Chiswick? Me.

Anyway, started, getting this. Now.

Since Crash mentioned it...

Anyone up for a friendly boxing tournament?

Leave your name. I'll make a roster.

Okay, so, Pop Quiz.

You wake up back on Earth again and quickly come to the conclusion that someone's frelling with your head again.

Is it:

A, Scarrans
B, Scorpy on yet another power-trip (sorry, Harv)
C, Monster-of-the-week
D, Jack and his buddies
E, Yet another sign of impending mental collapse
F, Who gives a dren?

Quick quick quick!

Also, where the frell am I and why does it look like Vegas out there and I have a frelling tattoo now?

My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padawan learner to Qui-Gon Jinn.

Whoever is responsible for this should know that the Jedi Council do not pay out ransoms for those of us who are kidnapped, and so this will not be beneficial to you in any way. There will be no monetary gain as a result of your actions.

I need whiskey. Or Everclear. Or a Silkwood shower in bleach.

( Filtered to Jim )

( Filtered to the Middleman )

Hey I hope 2010 is starting off great for everyone.

So on Wednesday there's an Open Mic night, acoustic centered I think, at King Tut's Pub on Charleston. I planned to be sign up to sing and play the guitar, and I remembered there are a few musically inclined people here. Anyway if anyone wants to come sign up too and make a night of it, or maybe just come to cheer on a fellow Zenner victim, feel free.

( filtered to the Sanctuary members )

( filtered to Kate Freelander )

Gambling capital of the world, right?

I wonder if I can find a game of shiboomi anywhere.

I have somehow misplaced the guinea pig. Should anyone still remaining in the Zenner building find it, I would appreciate you bringing the small creature back to my rooms.

Normally when I'm kidnapped, I have an idea of why I've been kidnapped. Unless, of course, I haven't been kidnapped. It could be an involuntary jump forward in time, or---hey, maybe I have amnesia of the past year. I could be dreaming.

My dreams usually have fruit in them. I have an entire orange grove at home; I hope Ted thought to take care of it while I was on my time-traveling amnesia adventures.

Anyone know where I can get some fresh fruit? Not the canned stuff, real, fresh fruit. Maybe mangos---or a papaya. Papaya sounds great right about now.

Sooooooo I found an art supply shop and went a little crazy with this unlimited credit card. And I think I just came off a weeklong painting bender. At least a week, anyway. I missed the holidays, didn't I? Not that they would have been the same without Lacey's flaming Solstice punch and my mom's buñuelos. So it's probably better that I spent the whole time in a haze of canvas and mixed media.

Moral of the story: find somewhere to paint with better ventilation. Hoo.

I always thought if I woke up in Vegas I'd be lying on top of a pile of chips and nuzzled up to an equally hungover paramour. The tattooed and disoriented part seems about par for the course, though.

But I don't remember winning at roulette and I don't remember getting sucked through a portal again, so this is just hella weird.