step amongst the stairs: Breast cancer awareness starts with lying on facebook

The word of today was "bonny", which I thought was neat since it was relevant to a conversation that Jolene and I had when drunk; about the poem Monday's Child (apparently also commonly referred to as Friday's Child).

Monday's child is fair of face
Tuesday's child is full of grace,
Wednesday's child is full of woe,
Thursday's child has far to go,
Friday's child is loving and giving,
Saturday's child works hard for a living,
But the child who is born on the Sabbath Day,
Is bonny and blithe and good and gay.

Just so happens I was born on Sunday (aka Sabbath Day). I like the word blithe better than the word bonny. The word of the day should have been blithe!

On facebook, my mom sent me some chain game that allegedly promotes breast cancer awareness. It said not to tell men, as apparently they are not allowed to be aware of breast cancer. Being the rebel that I am, I did so anyway. Which was a good thing, as a friend pointed out to me that men can also get breast cancer.

For some reason, this forcibly reminded me of Meatloaf's role from Fight Club. Where he had "bitch tits".

The other day Jolene made a remark about always seeing herself smashing Christmas decorations, with a hammer I think it was. Turns out that thoughts like this resemble yawning in their tendency to infect others. I now can't stop thinking about smashing Christmas lights.

I made my mom watch The Walking Dead with us over the past week or so. I loved it the first time, I got addicted to it the second. The new episode doesn't come back on until February 12th or something like that.

I'm kind of addicted to zombies as a whole these days. It's like all I ever think about. I blame Chad and his obsession with Aliens. I'm not sure why the two are related, particularly since Chad fully believes that aliens are real and I definitely don't believe in zombies.

I want to get another tattoo. Or a piercing. Or both. I'm wary that it's a reaction to having turned 29, but it could also just be that it's a part of myself that I've neglected for the past several years. I was considering a teapot tattoo, possibly one that says Je suis une maudit théière (which means something similar to "I'm a fucking teapot").

I really don't like Superman, at all. Of all the superheroes in the world, he's the lamest. The only thing I DO like about Superman is the quote from Kill Bill.

An essential characteristic of the superhero mythology is, there's the superhero, and there's the alter ego. Batman is actually Bruce Wayne, Spider-Man is actually Peter Parker. When he wakes up in the morning, he's Peter Parker. He has to put on a costume to become Spider-Man. And it is in that characteristic that Superman stands alone. Superman did not become Superman, Superman was born Superman. When Superman wakes up in the morning, he's Superman. His alter ego is Clark Kent. His outfit with the big red "S", that's the blanket he was wrapped in as a baby when the Kents found him. Those are his clothes. What Kent wears, the glasses, the business suit, that's the costume. That's the costume Superman wears to blend in with us. Clark Kent is how Superman views us. And what are the characteristics of Clark Kent? He's weak, he's unsure of himself... he's a coward. Clark Kent is Superman's critique on the whole human race.