Put your music player on shuffle. Press forward for each question. Use the song title as the answer to the question. Post on your blog. Comment back if you post it on your site. No comment regarding whatever songs that might come up. Stolen from LOTS of bloggers.

Will I get far in life?
Time – Sarah McLachlan

How do my friends see me?
Sunrise – Simply Red

Where will I get married?
Come Fly With Me – Frank Sinatra

What is my best friend’s theme song?
Never Felt This Way – Alicia Keys

What is the story of my life?
Organ Donor – DJ Shadow

What was high school like?
Jesus is Just Alright with Me – Doobie Brothers

How can I get ahead in life?
Rock and Roll McDonalds – Wesley Willis

What is the best thing about me?
Hard to Explain – The Strokes

How is today going to be?
Blue – Joni Mitchell

What is in store for this weekend?
End of the Day - Beck

What song describes my parents?
I’m an Old Cowhand – Sons of the Pioneers, Roy Rogers

My grandparents?
We Rule the School – Belle and Sebastian

How is my life going?
Born to Kill – The Damned

What song will they play at my funeral?
Downtime – The Gandharvas

How does the world see me?
The Pocket Knife – PJ Harvey

Will I have a happy life?
Shadow Boxer – Fiona Apple

What do my friends really think of me?
Blue Moon – Nat King Cole

Do people secretly lust after me?
Ain’t No Sunshine When She’s Gone – Bill Withers

How can I make myself happy?
I Want to Break Free - Queen

What should I do with my life?
Times They Are a Changing – Bob Dylan

Will I ever have children?
Shut Up – Black Eyed Peas

What is some good advice?
If I Fall You’re Going Down With Me – Dixie Chicks

What is my signature dancing song?
Bottle of Smoke – Pogues

What do I think my current theme song is?
On the Way Home – Buffalo Springfield

What does everyone else think my current theme song is?
It Won’t Hurt – Dwight Yoakam

What type of men/women do you like?
Ocean Man - Ween

I’m still on the Island. Three Jerks have been voted off from the last two tasks. Jeckles is not fucking around. Two people did not do last weeks task and those two people are GONE, combine that with one person voted off after task one and it almost gives you the illusion I can do math. The new task is as follows.

Dress yourself up in 40 different articles of clothing. Take a picture of yourself, you should be visible at least from knees to chin, and post it on your blog. Include a list of the 40 articles of clothing. Yes, socks count. Yes, underwear counts. No, don’t put up a normal looking picture and claim that you have on 36 pairs of underwear.
Someone is going to say, “I can’t do that… I don’t have enough clothes…” Or some other shit. Fine. You have an alternative. If you don’t want to make a fool of yourself by dressing up in 40 different articles of clothing then you may:
Dress up in your birthday suit, naked, nude, un-fucking-dressed… Take a picture of yourself, you should be visible at least from knees to chin, and post it on your blog. Post it by Tuesday at Midnight EST.

This photo represents an illusion of Rilah and me hanging out in the sand by the water with the wild things without clothes on.

I’m not going to say that we have an alliance, that would just be silly, maybe even stupid, but we do hang out together on the Island.

To talk trash and VOTE OTHER PLAYERS off the Island click here, voting starts on Wednesday.

Today I find myself at a level of hyper activeness that I’m sure makes mothers all over the world want to kill their children. I am presently very happy that I don’t live at home.

For the first time since my surgery my asshole is feeling legitimately better. Like it used to before attack of the rhoids began. I’m confident I am very close to again having a normal asshole.

I saw the surgeon last Thursday and got off the Tylenol 3’s and got something that won’t plug me up because Tylenol 3 is really more like candy when you think about it and who needs a plugged up ass after ass surgery- NOT me.

Yesterday while we were getting all excited and emotional [ok, I was getting emotional] that the world is now looking at OUR city as the host of the next winter Olympics ABC was like just wait till all the people coming here find out you can smoke pot.

I wonder how many scandals there will be with athletes whose drug tests are affected just from breathing the BC air?

I’ve always been an AVID, AVID supporter of legalize it NOW and tax the FUCK out of it. Would I pay for a pack of joints what a cigarette smoker pays, what it costs for a case of beer? FUCK YA.
Speaking of marijuana, last week I hobbled with what looked like carrots up my ass over to a favourite specialty store of mine and bought a new wallet. Said wallet fell apart and I was totally pissed off and returned it. I’ll still buy stuff there; it was one shitty wallet, you’ll be happy to know I’m not going to ban them. When I first bought the wallet the corner of my eye caught a clock for sale set to stay at 4:20. I BURST out laughing and was like DOES YOUR BOSS KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS? The dude was like totally I totally told her, whilst dude ringing up my wallet is getting all uncomfortable and like so obviously doesn’t smoke the ganja. I couldn’t handle it, talk about balls. Only in Vancouver, seriously.

Back to my ass. Thanks to my blogging pre surgery, having ABC update you and then blogging after with GRANDIOSE descriptions and stories from the bath tub I was given the honour of Shitty Blog of the Month for February. I’m proud to be shitty!!
[if you are a shitty blog member who has not updated your link please do so or Jeckles is going to kick your ass out of the club YOU HEAR ME]

ABC is back from working in Kelowna for the weekend. SWEEEET.

When he originally left he said he wasn’t going to shave. Fine with me, I haven’t shaved my legs since sometime in January. Plus, I happen to LOVE his Wolverine look.

Normally in very different ways and under very different circumstances Adam and I can be extremely defiant. Every now and again we end up on the same idiosyncratic page of defiance. We rebel against something so stupid we only end up hurting ourselves.

The last time we did a ‘drug store’ shop together we came upon the newest edition to razors, the five blade with a sixth blade on the back for those hard to reach places. I instantly launched into murder jokes how this would be like the best thing EVER to slit throats with. All the while throwing in shit like WHO THE FUCK NEEDS A FIVE BLADE RAZOR you could seriously accidentally kill yourself with that shit.

We happened to have NEEDED razors and we buy the same ones, they are normally pink. WHY buy men’s and ladies razors when they do the same fucking thing, it isn’t like we share the actual RAZOR. That would be gross.

I know that neither of us was conscious of it at the time but we both obviously went into major rebel against the system mode and ended up with two blade razors.

I can hardly shave my fucking armpits with these things and with regular hair growth on my legs I had to go back over like a 100 times. I knew I was going in for surgery anyway so I just stopped shaving my legs. I also find shaving my legs in the winter at all pretty over-rated.

This morning while I was in one of my recovery ’sit baths’ Adam began lathering up to shave off his some of his Wolverine hotness. I was watching and could not stop laughing. I said I know man they are totally crap, as I’m watching him slowly and gently trying to find a way to get the hair off his face.

Shaving my armpits takes three crosses THREE CROSSES, which is so bad for my skin and so 1991. We took it too far, we should have just gone with the three blade, now we just look like bleeding idiots.

We have decided that we will only buy razors with a minimum of three blades but still agree that the five blade is taking it too far and pushing shaving to heights that should only be attempted by your clone if you are lucky enough to have one.

im not doing good right now at all.
at all. mentally, emotionally, physically. i can sit here and type stuff im just too depressed and it just all sounds like shit right now and my tear ducts will not stop flowing over and i can’t seem to stop them which is not like me. depression hardly ever hits me with uncontrollable crying.

i’ll bounce back, i guess i always do.

i’ll go back to leaving witty comments on your blogs and feeling sorry for myself now.

So now I come to you from my donut pillow atop my CPU chair dealing with the fact that I’m going to have to face it I’m addicted to blogging. I was blogging standing up so I could read your comments on ABC’s special appearance post*. As well as the ones I didn’t get to respond to on ‘The Rhoids’ post because I left to be cut a new asshole. I typed comments also in the standing position on some of your blogs because until late yesterday my ass did not go near the CPU chair. Honestly though whether I should or should not enter ‘addicted to blogging anonymous’ {ABA}, likely treated with a one step program of throwing your CPU out the window, is still up for debate.

Ass-Surgery which is quickly becoming my favourite ‘word’ of 2006 was fan-fucking-tastic.

See this ‘I love you’ pillow? Adam bought it for me to sit on coming home because everyone had a different opinion on the donut pillow, some nurses said GOOD some nurses said BAD. I barfed on it twice in Adam’s boss’s truck [we got the barf out].
I feel like the biggest asshole ever for barfing in the truck because I inspected the bag first for holes and I did not see any. I figure the acid from my barf ate through the bag.

I won’t lie to you people. This is the nastiest shit ever. Far, far worse than landing on my head with no helmet off a motor scooter breaking my collar bone, and the subsequent surgery combined x 10 million and 6. And I do, as MANY will attest and sign notarized documents were I to ask it of them, have a high pain tolerance. I would not put it above or below any of them though to also check a yes in the ‘whines a lot’ box. [in the 90’s they DID NOT have helmets to rent with the scooters in the Cook Islands]

Some of the Ass-Surgery high-lights are, but don’t be fooled, are not limited to:

Simply having ass-surgery at all; what a fun story to tell from the start of ‘The Rhoids’ to being just weeks away from being able to add the ending.

The stench of the surgery site drainage and the fact that I have to wear night time absorbency pads 24/7 [with wings] as to not ‘ruin’ my panties and clothes; this goes with the 4 to 6 baths a day. People, I have not worn ‘a pad’ let alone worn it 24/7 since the 10th grade, I remember very clearly the switch from pads to tampons and it was for a reason. I had up until today considered myself extremely lucky because I was not experiencing ANY butt chaffing but alas “Happy Valentines Day” to me, I officially have butt chaffing.

There was enough freezing that I made it home in relatively good shape except that upon arrival I barfed a third time [into the toilet]. I got no sleep the first night at all. NONE. The freezing came out and my sphincter would not stop going through random but enthusiastic spasms sending me yelling out in pain. Not crying though I didn’t cry once. Big girls don’t cry. The sphincter spasms lasted for days, I don’t think I even have to tell you how incredibly AWESOME that was.

My first bowel movement took over an hour. I chugged glass after glass of water to take my mind off the fact it was happening fresh out of bed at 7 something in the morning with absolutely no pain killers in the system. Everyone knows that I Corinna Liscumb have a mild tendency to exaggerate but this is different and I would never do that in regards to something like this, Adam sat on a stool [haha I said stool] the whole time and basically held my hand. Although I would give anything to see my facial expressions there was no fucking way I was busting out the camera even for something as memorable as that was. In case anyone is DYING to know my second pooh was much shorter but just as painful and involved yelling and the word ‘fuck’ at times.

THE REAL DEAL:

I woke up in super sexy and I mean SUPER Sexy white mesh gauze stuffed panties that I AM keeping as a souvenir.

Adam and Gus both have been the bestest of the best. Adam is a fantastic male nurse and it very conveniently turned out that he doesn’t have to leave for work until tomorrow. Thank you baby Jesus seriously on Monday I was no where near ready to be alone by tomorrow morning considering it is late evening here as I’m writing this, I still won’t like the having to leave bit, but having him here Monday and today was better than great.

For Valentines Day which I view as a total commercial piece of shit holiday that we don’t celebrate other than in the random ways we celebrate everything we celebrate; Adam in this true spirit got me a Hump Back Whale I’ve named Magnum and a Whale Shark that I’ve named Blue Dot., both of which I have Scanned for YOU to keep with the tradition of scanning our insane gifts to each other.

These two creatures of the water are a gift from the heart of my true love to be played with during my 4 to 6 daily baths that I will now have to administer to myself.

* [An ABC special appearance] will now show before all his posts so you know it is him, I realized I never mentioned he may guest post.

This must be the place. Ass marks the spot…

Dont look at me like that!

Lots of people need to have things removed from their ass.

It must be done! If it isnt, ….

..it may turn into something much worse…

… .. . ..and my ass may ’splode!!!

Oh, how stubborn is my ass.

Butt i must…please dont think me vein…for want to be void of the roids.

I’ve noticed that a lot of writers talk about bums, their poop, their dogs and cats poop, constipation and other bum related problems like explosive diarrhea on their blogs.

I don’t have a problem with this. In fact, when I entered the blogging world I remember thinking, if nothing else, I WILL fit in with [some of] The Bloggers because I’ve got stuff wrong with my ASS. I’m always talking about butts and how that baby got back and how I got back but I haven’t been able to wear thongs and yes this is a cry me a river post OR you can bust out your full size imaginary– I’ll also accept MINI imaginary violins.

The truth is that tomorrow [Thursday, February 9th] I’m going in for ASS surgery for The Rhoids. They are always referred to as The Rhoids and NEVER by the H word. Use of the H word can be grounds for me to end a friendship. I’ll accept ass jokes, ass cracks but the H word, NO.

The first time it happened I was nineteen and it was really bad and they threatened to surgically remove them then and they didn’t and now at twenty-eight I’m like some threat ASSHOLES like FUCK you– why didn’t you just nip and tuck me then? As IF they didn’t know with The Rhoids that bad at that young of an age that I wouldn’t be a regular sufferer. BAH.

I’m scared like a little fucking baby. More scared than when I had my collar bone surgery. That was scary to me. And on Monday ABC is going away to work and I’ll be alone and lonely, with Gus of course, just like old times but lonely and in pain and if you’ve ever wanted to buy me a present off my wish list please do so at your leisure [soon] because I’m having ASS SURGERY. Although, I guess, the BEST gift of all will be NEVER having The Rhoids ever ever again and I’ll be able to wear thongs whenever I want but there are none of those on my wish list. Darn it.