Happy Thanksgiving!
A little AIM for y'all.

NapalmMage: it's so great watching cops and seeing someone you know
TheTweekerChick: Tell me you're joking.
NapalmMage: Nope, on the Nashville episode during the opening credits.
TheTweekerChick: It's ok. You know that chick on judge judy who shot her friend in the face? I know her.
NapalmMage: LOL I missed that one. At least the dude that I know wasn't a criminal, the cops were just talking to him.
TheTweekerChick: ROFL. I have no excuse except she bought the beer.
NapalmMage: were you there for the shooting?
TheTweekerChick: Fuck no. But I would've laughed really hard if i was.

I've had more requests for the Paris Hilton Sex Tape.
I may put a link to it on the right later, but I'm a lazy fuck.
So here you go. Sign up for a temporary membership.
Perv.
Paris Hilton Sex Tape

Also, if you don't own the new Lucky Boys Confusion CD, your missing out. Get it.

So, I'm tweeked and ready to update. Finally.
First off, if you don't own your very own copy of "Commitment" the new Lucky Boys Confusion release, you need to click and get it.
It's excellent, and this is coming from me.

As much as working with children is a gigantic pain in my ass, every now and again it has its perks. The other day, I rolled into work, in ripped jeans, old sneakers and a hoodie. The first thing any guy I knew said was "What the FUCK happened to you?" But no, not those kids. I was sitting there in all my nastiness and Brian comes up to me, simply to tell me, and I quote "Damn Clare, your hella fine!"
Now, I can handle a 13 year old thinking I'm hot. I'm mature, I'm good at my job, all that shit. I sat across from him at dinner. About halfway through the meal, I felt something move at the inside of my left ankle. Being taller than all the kids, I pulled my foot back. Then it happened on the right one. I pulled that back too. About halfway up my calf, I realized that a 13 year old was trying to play footsie with me. So I did what any normal self respecting staff would've done.
I waited till he got to my knee and stabbed him in the toe with a fork.
Which sparked this conversation (And I am not making this up)
Brian: What, you don't like it when a 13 year old plays footsie with you?
Me: NO!
Brian: It's not THAT much of an age difference. Will you go out with me?
Me: No!
Brian: Why not?
Me: I am WAY too old for you, and I'll lose my job.
Brian: They'll never know.
Me: Yes they will. The answer is no.
Brian: Your still hella fine.

It's part of the fun of working with children. Not only are they great for your ego, they seriously think that being "hella fine" should pay your bills.
If I was this popular with 13 year old boys when I was 13, I wouldn't be nearly this bitter.

It's a short post tonight. I've got the flu. Ugh.
So, I just thought I'd share this with you all.
I am not making this up.
My Plan For Peace
I may have a new hobby.

Write me loving emails about how I must get better NOW.
Or IM me at TheTweekerChick or TweekerChickQC both at AOL.

I'm feeling loved today.
Someone emailed me 10 random questions.
So I'm going to answer 8 of them. Just to be a dickhead.
Then I'm going to go to bed.
1. What is your favorite playground equipment?
Gotta be the teeter totter. I would wait until I was at the bottom and the person in the air wasn't paying attention, then I'd get up and run like hell. It worked for a few solid months, too.
2. What is under your bed?
A stuffed Koala my Mom made me, a sock, 2 packages of mouse poison (die, Mr. Whiskers, die!), and a Swedish soccer team.
3. Can you twist your tongue upside down?
No. The barbell prevents that. If for some odd reason the barbell is gone, normally someone else's tongue prevents that sort of silliness.
4. Name an annoying song.
Me Against The Music, or whatever the fuck the new Britney Spears song is. She should stick to kissing Madonna. At least then we don't have to listen to her.
5. Are you superstitious? About what? Good/bad beliefs?
To a point. If there's a way around it, I won't walk under a ladder or anything. But I refuse to wear the same pair of underwear (inside out or not) for 17 weeks in a row so that some sports team will win.
6. What's your favorite bad-breath food?
Anything with onions or garlic. The authorities made me stop killing weak and stupid people and eating their brains.
7. Which do you prefer?
Sneakers or Boots? Sneakers for lounging, boots for my ass kicking damn she's hotter than I thought look.
With socks or without?With
Shorts or Pants?Pants. Although I have yet to say no to a hot skater guy in shorts.
Paperclips or Staples?Staples. Paperclips are purely paraphernalia to me now.
Over or under?Under.
Country or Hip Hop?Hip Hop. "NapalmMage: I've come up with a plan that will solve many problems here in the united states. I just need to figure out how I can get country music to sterilize its listeners. "
Pop or Rap?Rap
Peppermint or Cinnamon?Peppermint. My first time drinking I drank an entire bottle of Hot Damn cinnamon schnapps. The smell of any kind of cinnamon gum or flavoring besides the real deal makes me want to ralph.
Chapstick or Carmex? Chapstick. Carmex reminds me too much of Vicks Vapor Rub.
8. Will you sleep with me? If you were the last person on earth and the future of the world depended solely on us scrumping, I still wouldn't do it.

Here we go. Again.
TheTweekerChick: ugh. come rub my achy legs.
NapalmMage: wish I could
NapalmMage: I wouldn't even try to put it in your butt. at least not for a few weeks...

Its official. My friends are hilarious.
TweekerChickQC: If you had one question to ask anyone in the whole world, who would it be and what would you ask
NapalmMage: Living or dead? Or just living?
TweekerChickQC: living
NapalmMage: Hmmm...gimme a few minutes.
NapalmMage: Like...all the BIG questions are un-answerable. And I'd hate to waste a good question on someone and then find out they don't know the answer.
TweekerChickQC: know what mine is?
NapalmMage: What's that?
TweekerChickQC: id ask Monica Lewensky why the FUCK you'd keep a cumstained dress.
TweekerChickQC: that still baffles me
NapalmMage: Same reason guys keep girls dirty panties. It's a trophy
NapalmMage: I guess I could ask Jimmy Carter about the truth behind UFO's
TweekerChickQC: Panties are small
TweekerChickQC: a DRESS.
NapalmMage: bigger trophies are always better.
TweekerChickQC: Man. So you mean to tell me that if you had a pair of trophy undies that would fit you and your 4 closest friends, that it would be better?
NapalmMage: If they were Margaret Thatcher's panties.
NapalmMage: Or the fucking queen...that would be a showstopper.
TweekerChickQC: ROFL. Your going to hell
NapalmMage: A cum-stained nun's habit would be the ultimate prize though.
NapalmMage: cause you gotta be one helluva guy to talk a nun into getting freaky

Reason #521 I shouldn't have told Graig that I jabbed a 13 year old with a fork:
GMEuph310: I will stab you with my fork...
GMEuph310: and by fork...I mean dick

Check out The Time Killer on my list of links over there.
He gets a cookie, a dollar, and maybe a parade for making me laugh out loud.
I'll bet HE has his underwear on the right side out.

I found the coolest blog ever.
Even cooler when I looked to the left and found that he had linked to me.
Neato mosquito.
I wonder how many hits I need a day to be a phenomenon. I've got a whopping 20!
Anyway, check it out.
The Time Killer

AIM again.
I should marry this guy.
I couldn't have said this better myself.

NapalmMage: Hairy Potter and the chamber of secrets....a fucking 3 hour long kids movie? That's cruel.
TweekerChickQC: i hate harry potter.
NapalmMage: But I look forward to the kid that plays him growing up to be a severely fucked up individual.

I'm a fully functioning adult.
Today I paid a shitload of bills, went to all of my classes, and now I am hunting down various legal and illegal drugs for another long work day.
My car has had an oil change, and my apartment is clean.
Laundry is done tomorrow.
All is on the up and up.
I was feeling all great and wonderful about myself and my ability to function independently in such a world.
Until I realized that I had been wearing my underwear inside out all day.
So much for progress.

Again, with the AIM.

Watch how one innocent comment about George Clinton (NapalmMage: But it's not really my fault. Who in their right minds could resist the full funkitude of his holy funkness?) spins directly back into my heterolifemate having no morals.
HLM: hahahah oh I love him.
HLM: anyone who can at least pretend to appreciate the godfather of funk himself is cool in my book.
TheTweekerChick: LOL he DOES appreciate him he's just a dick.
HLM: haha I like dicks.

I am upset. Chris wrote in his blog that going out in Chicago will cost you some serious bank.
I agree.
Sadly, I was not with him.
Good for him, bad for me.
Anyway, one of my favorite blogs was updated. Check it out here.
It saddens me horribly that my male friends feel the need to watch porn.
Without me.
That's my issue. I've had many an excellent discussion with a dirty movie playing in the background.
I'm also pretty sure that makes me the perfect female. Now if only I could find a way to kidnap Chris and steal him away for myself. But that's ok. Until then I'm sure he will be busily updating his blog. HINT HINT HINT.

Heh. I'm a poser. I'm a loser.
This is me ripping off Gorillamask.
And guess what?
I'm gonna keep doing it.
Sorry dood. Atleast I gave you the credit for it.
You still rule.
This is why I'm not a Science/Biology/PreMed Major
HLM[9:18 AM]: i take back everything i said last time i was sick about not having felt this bad in a long time
TheTweekerChick [9:19 AM]: I know hon. I wish there was something i could do.
HLM[9:19 AM]: study for sociology for me?
HLM[9:19 AM]: learn how to do epistasis problems?
TheTweekerChick [9:19 AM]: Took the class. aced it. Ill take the final for you
TheTweekerChick [9:19 AM]: Um. what?
HLM[9:19 AM]: yeah. exactly.
HLM[9:19 AM]: heh.
TheTweekerChick [9:19 AM]: I thoguht epistasis was a foot disease
HLM[9:20 AM]: a form of genetic heritability where one trait recessively masks another.
TheTweekerChick [9:20 AM]: I liked it better when I thought it was a foot disease.

You can now IM me on AIM or AOL at TweekerChickQC or TheTweekerChick.
A few rules.
1) Don't piss me off. You instant messaged ME.
2) Do not instant message me, and when I don't answer right away, proceed to IM me with "Hello? Clare? You there? Hello" Every 8.3 seconds for a solid 4 minutes.
3) This is not an invitation to tell me how you'd like to bend me over.
4) This is not an invitation to tell me that I have a nice rack.
5) I do screen, and if you start acting like an asshole, you will be blocked for as long as it takes me to load my gun.

IM away, my friends!!

P.S. The video of the rich Hilton bitch is not hosted on my site. It is simply linked. If lawyers or representatives from the Hilton family want it removed, it will be taken down immediately. Otherwise, blow me.

I'm a pervert. A curious pervert, but a pervert nonetheless. I seemed to get my grubby paws on a link to the Paris Hilton Sex Tape on the condition that I watch it with a certain Blogmaster and compare notes.
And watch I did, ready to be left hornier than a 14 year old boy with Cinemax and a tube sock.
Those are 3 minutes of my life I'll never get back. For the 45 seconds of actual fucking there was in the video, there was 2 minutes 15 seconds of Paris Hilton frolicking around, making sure the angle of the camera was right for her.
She wasn't having sex with him. She was having sex with the camera. He spent most of the video spanking the monkey, because she was busy doing things like answering her cellphone (no, I am not making that up.)
I may never have sex again. She's ruined it for bitches everywhere.
Not only has she soiled the otherwise wonderful name of porn, she's a pretty fuckin bad lay from what I can tell. Poor guy needs someone who will shut the cell phone off, or atleast turn it to vibrate and do something useful with it.
The more I looked at it, the more I was sure that this was the sequel to the Blair Witch Project, and they indeed found her. Who knew the Blair Witch was Paris Hilton?

So. I was going to write a badass fucking blog about sex, drugs, rock and roll and why I'm some higher power's practical joke.
But Chris hasn't updated in OVER A MONTH.
So The TweekerChick is taking a break till he does.
Hrmpf.

Tonight I was dragged to a concert. A country music concert. It was a mullet convention. The seats were packed with smelly, mullet clad hicks with jeans that were bleached and tight around the ankles, with big hair and no teeth. There were beer bellies and cowboy boots. There was foot stomping and screaming and yeehawing.
And then the band came on.
And no joke.
They were good. They were really good. They were excellent.
No shit what so ever, Sawyer Brown was one of the best shows I've ever seen. The lead singer is the Ed Kowalczyk of the country music world. He made us laugh, and danced like no white guy I've seen before. The next time I see those hip movements, I want my legs to be wrapped around them.
That was before I heard him sing. I would have his country music singing babies. He had this smooth, low voice that made me want to jump onstage and hump his leg.
Not one person in that entire band was untalented. I am impressed.
I may switch to the dark side, after all.

I'm an independent female making it on my own in the world today. I destroy obstacles that get in my way. I'm a fighter. According to some people I'm one step away from being a hairy leg hemp wearing tree hugging lesbian. If it wasn't for the fact that I refuse to "Take back the night!", wear birkenstocks and be a sister, I'd be well on my way.
I'm all for women's rights. Don't get me wrong. All I ask for is that I get a fair chance to do what it is I want to do.
But that will never happen.
I will never get a fair chance.
Because I have boobs.
Riding along on my chest are two lumps of fat with the power to make men squirm, whimper, and give me whatever the fuck I want. Things aren't going my way? Wear a v-neck shirt. Can't get backstage at a concert where they won't even let police officers backstage? Make the bouncer think he's gonna get a peek at Spanky and BoomBoom (or Thelma and Louise, or Godzilla and Mothra, whatever you call them).
Now, sometimes the boobage doesn't always work. I've got a rack I can rest my chin on, and still life isn't all fun and games. There is only one thing to do when the Wonderbra fails.
Break out the water works.
I'm an intelligent, strong, modern female who has no qualms about crying to get what I want.
Childish? Probably. Effective? You bet your ass.
I screwed the pooch on a major test (Which would've severely dropped my 3.80 GPA). Wearing a white very low cut v-neck shirt from Banana Republic, I had a small powwow with my professor on the pretense of "seeing what I could do to improve my grade". By the end of the conversation, I was bawling, tears were streaming down my cheeks and beginning to form a little pool into my cleavage that rivaled the size of the one at the YMCA, and I was making short...little se..ntances...between...s...sobs...
The poor man didn't know what to do. He rubbed his forehead. Then his bald head. Offered me a Kleenex, and proceeded to tack on an extra 10% if I would "Just stop crying, Clare!"
Now, stop right there. Before you shoot me an email about how I'm setting back the women's movement, I'm not. I'm simply using a tool at my disposal to my advantage. It's not my fault the people I deal with are naive enough to deal with that sort of nonsense. If I was my professor, I would've slapped the shit out of me. It's their fault for letting me play on those emotions and hormones.
It's what Doctor Macanich calls "mental and verbal judo".

I'm strong. I'm a fighter. I cry to get my way, and I'm proud of it.

I was just surfing though Gorillamask and I realized that my blog was listed. Neato mosquito.
Seeing as that is the most recognition this thing is ever going to get, I'm going to sit right here and enjoy my 15 minutes of fame.
Naked.
Cause I can.

I think I may be sick. Seriously. I was checking my email (link to the left, for those of you that are inept), and one of my loyal readers provided me with a link to 101 Reasons To Have Kids.Although I'd love to debate all 101 of them here, I don't have the time, or the stomach, to do so. Thus, you are getting 10, as randomly picked by my dear friend Kim, who is the only person who would be tolerant enough to pick ten random numbers between 1-101 without telling me to fuck off.
Now we have, in no particular order, The TweekerChicks take on 10 of 101 reasons to have kids.
#56 I just love being a mother. I love being pregnant. I love giving birth and I love breastfeeding.
Already, so much wrong with that statement. Why someone would enjoy being fat and crabby all the time is beyond me. Anyone who tells me that pregnant women aren't crabby are lying because they fear for their lives. Anyway, who likes breastfeeding? If you have to have a kid just to get someone to suck on your tit, you've got some issues.
#35 Because babies are the most irresistible things on earth.
I may need to double check my references, but I'm pretty sure the most irresistible thing on earth is heroin. If it's not, I'll be willing to bet it's more fun.
#8 I love to behold the handiwork of the Lord as a new little miracle comes forth.
Aww. It's confused. The only thing that's a miracle is the fact that no one has killed you.
#86 I would hate to stand before God on Judgment Day and have to answer why I rejected the children He had ordained for our family. Nice. Using that same logic, it's just as likely that you have to stand before God on Judgment Day and have to answer why you have 194819582 children when it was God's (and everyone else's) will that you had none.
#21 Children brighten up the home.
So do good lighting fixtures. You only have to pay for those once, and the rest of us don't have to hear them.
#64 Children are the most precious gift of marriage.
Contrary to popular belief, children are not the most precious gift of marriage. The most precious gift of marriage is the knowledge that you can refuse to shave your legs, gain 400 lbs, wear nothing but sweatpants, and still have the right to be pissed off when they fuck someone else.
#18 Another baby in the family makes my other children so happy.
I'm sure it does. It gives you less time to hover over them and gush about them while your tits gush breastmilk all over your kitchen and your literature about breastfeeding during the teenage years.
#55 I have a passionate love for babies.
There are people like you all over the world. Case in point: NAMBLA.
#5 It's an honor for the Lord to use my womb again.
Had I said that, one of you woulda called me a slut. If you have nothing better to do than be someone's cumrag, that's fine, but a lot of people have bigger goals in life than to squeeze something the size of a watermelon out of an opening the size of a lemon. If you want to be a mindless baby factory, more power to you.
#72 I want to rear strong soldiers for the Lord.
You'd best pray they are strong, because if they come thumping their Bibles towards me or mine, they will get shot. Anyway, if this Lord is so wonderful, why can't he rear his own soldiers? Are you doubting his abilities? Heathen. Blasphemer. You're going to burn.