Let Get Flicked

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What is a Fuzzball?

  • One question I hear more than any other is What's a Fuzzball??" Allow me to explain:

    A Fuzzball is a 30-year-old fallen debutante who lives in Houston, TX with a bossy dog and an even bossier parrot who she SWEARS is the reincarnation of Napoleon Bonaparte.

    A Fuzzball prefers animals to most people, because people can really suck sometimes.

    A Fuzzball loves music, ALL music ALL of the time. If she's not listening to it, then she's singing it.

    A Fuzzball has a mad love for all things British, especially their actors.

    A Fuzzball is blissfully happy in a bookstore, preferably one with good music playing in the background. If you look under a Fuzzball's bed you'll usually find an entire library of books that she has dropped there after falling asleep reading.

    Fuzzballs are usually incurable romantics, ridiculously optimistic, and bent on making the world a happier place.

    Your typical Fuzzball will probably have a completely bizarre sense of humor. Just go with it, it will take you to funny places.

    You should also be aware that Fuzzballs are giant nerds. Seriously. Science fiction, computers, the whole shebang.

    Fuzzballs are also budding photographers. They love looking at the world through a lens and finding new ways to be creative.

    Oh...and you can also look for a Fuzzball in one of the best movies ever made. ;)

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congratulations, mailbox--it's no wonder you get any work done.
now, i'd like to thank the academy for this award, even though i know no one is listening, and everyone is just waiting for the orchestra to interrupt me, and while half of you are dissecting my outfit, the other half are yelling about how awkward the lady is who stands behind and leads the winners offstage, cause it never fails, they ALWAYS start walking off the wrong way, thus ensuing the "whoaaaa whoops there almost exited stage left instead of stage right i am such a goofball!" situation, which usually ends in the actor/actress/sound editing nerd/peter jackson's facial hair waving their awards in a seemingly gracious manner like "thanks...again!" but inside they're really waving it like "eat shit fools it wouldn't make a difference if i left the stage on the back of a 3rd grader's banana seat 5 speed i've got a damn oscar and you ain't got JACK see you at the post show suckaaaaaas"


congratulations, mailbox--it's no wonder you get any work done.

I believe you mean "it IS a wonder that I get any work done." And I don't. So there. Thhhhpppbbbbbbtttt


perhaps i WAS saying it is no wonder you get any work done, because i believe you are SO organized, you have time to keep your blog updated AND pull a daily erin brockovich on your workplace. perhaps THAT IS WHAT I WAS SAYING AND YOU WERE JUST ASSUMING I WAS BEING SARCASTIC AND NOW DON'T YOU FEEL BAD ABOUT THAT?

a horrified sister


Dude, it's impossible for me to pull an Erin Brockovich, since she was working against The Man, and I am working for The Man, (very successfully, I might add). *knock wood*


Happy BLOGIVERSARY to you!
Happy BLOGIVERSARY to you!

I typed BLOGIVERSARY four times (actually five) without error--pretty impressive huh? It's been a great first year--here's to many more. love you more.


I AM impressed, especially considering it is a COMPLETELY made-up word! You are the bestest friend ever, you Sea Mammy, you. :)


Ah Shux! I guess somebody has to put up with you.

I guess I am just like a kamikaze. Take a few shots of sake and just head in head first.

Brockovich? You mean you walk around the office with way to much cleavage? If so, then I guess I do really, really like you.


Happy blogiversary! I think this officially marks the first time I've been the object of anyone's e-crush. ;)


I think this officially marks the first time I've been the object of anyone's e-crush.

You and me both. Obviously she hasn't seen my club foot. Or lazy eye. Or rap sheet.

Congrats, nice lady. Here's to many blogiversaries to come.

Not Casey

Wow. A year already. Man. Just, seriously. Just man, man.


Oh man.

Who are you again?


You mean you walk around the office with way to much cleavage?

Cecile, don't say a word...NOT A WORD. >:D

I think this officially marks the first time I've been the object of anyone's e-crush.

You guys are too modest.

Man oh man oh man. Man.


Hmmm, and I somehow would have thought Clive's old lady would easily outpace my visitation rate. Wil Wheaton trashes my paltry 300-400 a day.

BTW, I added you to my ever-expanding roll of Texas Blogs.

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