Yippee!

Things here at the Tan abode are super YAY! Amongst other things, we had new curtains installed today. The new curtains come with a great story that tells you more about my mother than about me.

During one of my lunch breaks at work (duration: 1 hr), my mother calls. “Are you free?,” she asks.

“Yes! Lunch?”

“Yeah I want to bring you see curtains.”

“SEE CURTAINS!?!? ON MY LUNCH BREAK?!?!”

But that woman succeeds at such things. So that 1 hour, she drags me down to look at curtains because she “wants my professional opinion” as she concedes that I “have a very good eye for such things”.

So I go d0wn, pick out a couple of fabrics. When I get home, she has decided not to use one of my choices. The next day, she brings me down to the curtain shop and looks at more fabrics, once again consulting me because she wants my “professional opinion”. So I (painstakingly) pick out a few more and we lay it all out.

None of what is hanging on those windows are chosen by me.

Thanks Mom.

But, you know, it looks fine! I’m not complaining (anymore).

My brother is back! YAY YAY YAY YAY! Who loves my brother? You’re right! I do! Because my brother is super duper awesome. He bought me my universe and he’s in a really, really great place in life right now, which makes me incredibly happy for him. Sometimes I feel sad that people have this impression of him as this vain, playboy type, which I am guilty of propagating. But he’s really great. He’s one of the most genuine people around. Straight-talking and despite his apparent superficiality, he has a lot of good in him. Bet you guys didn’t know he writes poetry! Like, really well. A man (okay, boy) who writes poetry and excels at sports? None but Dawn’s brother!

(Oooh, he just got home!! HA. Gonna go grill him on certain things, hehe.)

And my sister and I finally got over our stupid argument. Seriously. Dumbest argument ever. And we didn’t talk for days. And we live in the same room. So. Was not fun.

BUT NOW ALL IS GOOD!!!

We are the Fabulous Five again. Yahoo!

So this guy owns a house on a remote Irish island with a small population. The house disappears when he’s overseas. When he investigates, he (and the police from the mainland) hit a “wall of silence.” 170 people in a space less than 3 square miles, and nobody heard or saw anything. The entire island is made up of artisans, living “off the grid,” under the shadow of the ruined bell tower of a sixth-century monastery. All that’s missing is Eddie Woodward with a corncob up his ass, watching a slow-motion, soft-focus orgy.

I’m serious as twat cancer, you guys. Their tourism information says that they are literally “one of the last places in Ireland that holds onto, rather than simply paying lip service to, traditional Irish culture.” They speak their own dialect and they have a fucking king of the island. There’s a ferry service. That’s it. And if one of the islanders sabotages your pontoon plane, you’re completely and utterly fucked. If a stone structure can be burned and demolished with no justice, there’s about a 247.9% chance that nobody will even report your ass missing.

I think I speak for all of us when I say that it’s a testament to humanity that a place like this exists. And that I want to be the king. Imagine it… a whole tribe of isolated heathens, keeping the community afloat with arts and crafts, desecrating Christian monuments and sacrificing outlanders to improve the Fimo clay bead harvest. Me and Diane Cilento sitting on the floor post-anal, laughing and singing: “Fair maid, says he, your kettle’s cracked. The cause is plainly told. There hath so many nails been drove, mine own could not take hold!” It’s so beautiful, I’m leaking from both ends.

Of course, I could manufacture a similar environment with a little indoctrination and a big-ass wall, but I love the authenticity of the always-been-like-this heresy. And as much as I despise children, I would enjoy watching my minions shit out the next generation of cryptic, increasingly malevolent and intelligent inhabitants of my private Eden. (No anesthesia, of course, because I feed from the suffering of women.) Especially when they get to be about eight or nine and I have the “responsibility” of organizing their first gangbangs. Nothing like the pitter-patter of spooge dripping from cunts that can’t even vote yet.

Now, I know what you’ll say. “You can’t do that to children! I’m bringing the whole police force to put an end to your debauchery! Wait… What the fuck is this? Some kind of statue? Fuck! Let me go! You don’t want to do this! Some part of you is still human! You know that your raffia crop has nothing to do with appeasing the ancient god of dried floral arrangements! Dear Jesus, save me! Arrraggghhhh!”

Or something like that. You know.

LOL I noticed that I didn’t visit or post for the last few decades…ya so Keep The Blog alive! 2E2 Rocks
-Diane

Rihanna finally breaks her silence with the February incident with Chris Brown. She’s goes on about how she didn’t hit Chris, she never heard his apology song and that his apology video online looked like he was reading from a telepromter. I’m still not convinced and some of the things that were being said in this interview is definitely going to backfire on Rihanna. There’s so much more to what shes only saying.

Did anyone peep when Rihanna said how her and Chris were EQUALLY as dangerous. And then Diane Sawyer asks “Equally? What do you mean? Do you mean you were abusive to Chris? When How?  But you see what happens- the next thing you hear is “Fast forward to February 7, 2009″!! They doing Chris Breezy dirty!

“Any girl who is going through domestic violence: Don’t react off of love. F love. To come out of the situation and look at it third-person and for what it really is, you then make your decision. Because love is so blinding.” – Rihanna

I’m ready to see this interview and what superstar rihanna has to say . She goes in depth about what actually happened the night of the abuse. I’m curious as to what her outlook is now, & her status with Chris. Whats your input ?

It airs tomorrow night on 20/20 at 9pm.