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Sometimes I don't wanna do this.
No, the clown isn't mad; I am. Boiling mad over, of course, something I can't control. I do not think of myself as being a generally angry person. The things that make me mad are like people in "power" rationalizing stupid decisions to get their own way, other opinions that should have value being marginalized and regular people fronting like they are special and expecting the universe the universe to walk high, wide and handsome around them, and when people give in to the self appointed "special" people. I never park in the fire lane to run in Wal Mart. I put my cart in the cart retrun. I do not cheat in the express line. I count my stuff BEFORE I get in line. Why? I am REGULAR - not special. There is nothing I need inWalmart SO badly that I would block the fire lane. This is the bit about Barney wrecking our country. Remember that song he sang - "special, special, everybody's special" That's a lie - most of us are regular. If everybody was special, special would be the new regular.
Here's to the regular, plain and ordinary. Thank God for ordinary.
This is a catch-up day of sorts. I haven't missed a day of making apaper doll yet, but I haven't posted anything new since Tuesday. The posting thing is hard for me. Sometimes I hate doing it late at night, when I should go to bed so I won't be so draggy in the mornings and sometimes I just feel like it's a waste of time because I don't really have anything smart or funny to write and I hate to post because I am a terrible typist. I took typing - yes it was called typing - not keyboarding - when I was in high school - when I was a junior, I think. The teacher was called Mr. Bultman. Lester Bultman. He was about 60, I suppose, and wore a bolo tie and had a big gray pompadour hair do. I had too many pals inthe class and I didn't pay attention very well and I just COULD NOT make my fingers do all that stuff from the "home row", so I am doomed to be a hunt and peck typist forever looking at my fingers.
My biscuit is still burnt over Santino losing Project Runway, but I have since read that if you take the prize $$, Project Runway retains the rights and gets the $$ from a percentage of YOUR NAME! Jay McCarroll turned down the prize to stay independent. And I know Santino isn't for sale, so it's probably good that he didn't win.
I think Barney, the purple dinosaur, ruined our country. That, my friend, is a tease. More on this fascinating theory later.
peace, love and paper,
Debbi
This is the fifth Santino paper doll I have made since the finale. Am I obsessed? "Obsession" is such an ugly word ( and such a stinky perfume) that I tend to shy away from it. I would rather think of myself as "intensely interested". I mean, I dig the guy's work and I think he shudda won. It's like when my team gets beat and it's clearly due to poor officiating.
Daniel V. - Those purses were hideous. You did not need to worry about Santino stealing your design. You wish. In your dreams. You would have been lucky if Santino had thrown them under the bus.