I was invited to a Halloween party tonight. And still, I have no costume. I cancelled out on my friends last Saturday night because I didn't feel like getting a costume and going clubbing. But a party's a bit of a different thing and I wouldn't mind going to a party. So now I need a costume. Simple, easy and cheap, folks... those are the keywords for me right now.

I was invited to a Halloween party tonight. And still, I have no costume. I cancelled out on my friends last Saturday night because I didn't feel like getting a costume and going clubbing. But a party's a bit of a different thing and I wouldn't mind going to a party. So now I need a costume. Simple, easy and cheap, folks... those are the keywords for me right now.

I've been defiled. I feel taken advantage of, and I feel violated.

Mylo has attempted to hump my leg.

I should've noticed the initial signs that he's in heat, having experienced the mood swings and behaviors of a rabbit deep in the throes of the bunny-equivalent of pon farr (the mating cycle that comes every 7 years to Vulcans in which they become very irrational and have to screw or they'll die, for all you non-Trek people out there) when I had my own pet rabbit. But since Mylo's mommy had cautioned me that he has a tendency to follow people around closely so that they'll feed him and he's also a bit of a brat sometimes, I dismissed his antics as attention-seeking behavior. And even though I had my suspicions when he began biting my ankles and going after my pant legs, I still didn't think he was attempting to do what I thought he might.

But then he attempted. He made a full-on attempt. He mounted my leg while I was eating a late snack at the kitchen table and started going to town on me. And I knew -- it wasn't attention-seeking behavior, it was rampant hormones. And while I don't think that Mylo is gay, since male rabbits get so blinded by their hormones that they'll try to mount just about anything living that could allow them to bring themselves to orgasm, I just hope that he gets it out of his system quickly so that I don't have to spend a whole week fending off his rather straightforward (and somewhat painful) advances. Mylo's mommy and I will have a nice chat when she comes back from her honeymoon, at which point I will strongly advise her to find a female for Mylo to screw, otherwise he may start chasing her and her new husband around their house.

When I was back in high school, one of my mom's co-workers mentioned she had a female rabbit she was trying to find a mate for, so we took the female bunny back to our house for a night and threw her in my rabbit's cage. Suffice to say that my bunny was so excited and so overwhelmed by his hormones, he mounted the wrong end. And if you've ever seen a male bunny in action, it's literally like a jackhammer. I felt so sorry for this poor female bunny, getting her head pounded into the bottom of the cage and yet we couldn't do anything to stop my rabbit because every time we went near him, he tried biting us. They screwed all night... just like rabbits. He couldn't get enough of her. In the morning, when it was time to give the female back to her owner, I noticed tufts of her fur all over the cage -- my rabbit had bitten off clumps of her fur during their wild night of sex. To make matters worse, he didn't want to part with her, and every time my mom or I reached into his cage, he'd bite us -- something he hadn't done since the first week we had him when he was terrified of us. We eventually had to lure him out with a very big carrot, then my mom scooped him up and held him while I grabbed the female out of the cage and carried her off.

At this point, I think the only thing I can do is put my head in my hands and say, "Oy vey." And try to keep my limbs out of his reach.

I've been defiled. I feel taken advantage of, and I feel violated.

Mylo has attempted to hump my leg.

I should've noticed the initial signs that he's in heat, having experienced the mood swings and behaviors of a rabbit deep in the throes of the bunny-equivalent of pon farr (the mating cycle that comes every 7 years to Vulcans in which they become very irrational and have to screw or they'll die, for all you non-Trek people out there) when I had my own pet rabbit. But since Mylo's mommy had cautioned me that he has a tendency to follow people around closely so that they'll feed him and he's also a bit of a brat sometimes, I dismissed his antics as attention-seeking behavior. And even though I had my suspicions when he began biting my ankles and going after my pant legs, I still didn't think he was attempting to do what I thought he might.

But then he attempted. He made a full-on attempt. He mounted my leg while I was eating a late snack at the kitchen table and started going to town on me. And I knew -- it wasn't attention-seeking behavior, it was rampant hormones. And while I don't think that Mylo is gay, since male rabbits get so blinded by their hormones that they'll try to mount just about anything living that could allow them to bring themselves to orgasm, I just hope that he gets it out of his system quickly so that I don't have to spend a whole week fending off his rather straightforward (and somewhat painful) advances. Mylo's mommy and I will have a nice chat when she comes back from her honeymoon, at which point I will strongly advise her to find a female for Mylo to screw, otherwise he may start chasing her and her new husband around their house.

When I was back in high school, one of my mom's co-workers mentioned she had a female rabbit she was trying to find a mate for, so we took the female bunny back to our house for a night and threw her in my rabbit's cage. Suffice to say that my bunny was so excited and so overwhelmed by his hormones, he mounted the wrong end. And if you've ever seen a male bunny in action, it's literally like a jackhammer. I felt so sorry for this poor female bunny, getting her head pounded into the bottom of the cage and yet we couldn't do anything to stop my rabbit because every time we went near him, he tried biting us. They screwed all night... just like rabbits. He couldn't get enough of her. In the morning, when it was time to give the female back to her owner, I noticed tufts of her fur all over the cage -- my rabbit had bitten off clumps of her fur during their wild night of sex. To make matters worse, he didn't want to part with her, and every time my mom or I reached into his cage, he'd bite us -- something he hadn't done since the first week we had him when he was terrified of us. We eventually had to lure him out with a very big carrot, then my mom scooped him up and held him while I grabbed the female out of the cage and carried her off.

At this point, I think the only thing I can do is put my head in my hands and say, "Oy vey." And try to keep my limbs out of his reach.

Friends don't let friends phone stupidly. And if you're the elderly woman who's called me literally 6 times in the last 4 minutes, call one of your friends and discuss the issue, don't keep pestering me. Here's roughly how it went down:

1st call, 7:24 PM
Me: upon seeing a strange number on the Caller ID that I didn't recognize Hello?
Her: Hello?
Me: Hello?
Her: Is this CBS Radio?
Me: No, I'm sorry, you have the wrong number.
Her: [click]
Me: Well, that was kind of rude... not even an "oh, I'm sorry."

2nd call, 7:24 PM
Me: Hello?
Her: Hello, is this CBS Radio?
Me: No, you have the wrong number.
Her: [click]
Me: Goddamn it, stupid people suck.

3rd call, 7:25 PM
Me: after seeing the Caller ID come up with the same number Hello, you have the wrong number.
Her: [click]

4th call, 7:26 PM
Me: again, seeing same number on Caller ID Lady, you have the wrong number. Look up the right number and stop calling me!
Her: [click]

5th call, 7:26 PM
Me: really frustrated at this point and wondering why the hell I keep picking up the phone, and realizing that if I don't eventually convince her to stop calling me, she'll probably do it all night Lady, stop calling me!
Her: [click]
Me: [expletive deleted, expletive deleted, expletive deleted]

6th call, 7:26 PM
Me: Goddammit, you have the wrong--
Her: [click]

I guess it was the swearing that got to her. She's probably whipping out the ol' Smith-Corona to type CBS Radio a complaint letter about how one of their operators was extremely rude to her and they should give her a free radio to compensate her for her emotional damages. Either that, or I'm going to be featured on the next Jerky Boys CD.

Friends don't let friends phone stupidly. And if you're the elderly woman who's called me literally 6 times in the last 4 minutes, call one of your friends and discuss the issue, don't keep pestering me. Here's roughly how it went down:

1st call, 7:24 PM
Me: upon seeing a strange number on the Caller ID that I didn't recognize Hello?
Her: Hello?
Me: Hello?
Her: Is this CBS Radio?
Me: No, I'm sorry, you have the wrong number.
Her: [click]
Me: Well, that was kind of rude... not even an "oh, I'm sorry."

2nd call, 7:24 PM
Me: Hello?
Her: Hello, is this CBS Radio?
Me: No, you have the wrong number.
Her: [click]
Me: Goddamn it, stupid people suck.

3rd call, 7:25 PM
Me: after seeing the Caller ID come up with the same number Hello, you have the wrong number.
Her: [click]

4th call, 7:26 PM
Me: again, seeing same number on Caller ID Lady, you have the wrong number. Look up the right number and stop calling me!
Her: [click]

5th call, 7:26 PM
Me: really frustrated at this point and wondering why the hell I keep picking up the phone, and realizing that if I don't eventually convince her to stop calling me, she'll probably do it all night Lady, stop calling me!
Her: [click]
Me: [expletive deleted, expletive deleted, expletive deleted]

6th call, 7:26 PM
Me: Goddammit, you have the wrong--
Her: [click]

I guess it was the swearing that got to her. She's probably whipping out the ol' Smith-Corona to type CBS Radio a complaint letter about how one of their operators was extremely rude to her and they should give her a free radio to compensate her for her emotional damages. Either that, or I'm going to be featured on the next Jerky Boys CD.

I got not one, but two lovely rejection letters in the mail today! At the rate I'm going, I'll soon have enough paper from all these job rejections to build a fort in my parents' backyard, because that's where I'll be living soon if I don't get some income.

Someone. Hire me, please. Before my brain melts out my ears and I completely lose it. Because you know what happens when I lose it. I go running down Comm Ave with a water cannon, laughing maniacally as I hose down pedestrians and college students and people on bikes and bad drivers, screaming obscenities in strange and obscure languages like Yiddish and Klingon. Just you wait.

I got not one, but two lovely rejection letters in the mail today! At the rate I'm going, I'll soon have enough paper from all these job rejections to build a fort in my parents' backyard, because that's where I'll be living soon if I don't get some income.

Someone. Hire me, please. Before my brain melts out my ears and I completely lose it. Because you know what happens when I lose it. I go running down Comm Ave with a water cannon, laughing maniacally as I hose down pedestrians and college students and people on bikes and bad drivers, screaming obscenities in strange and obscure languages like Yiddish and Klingon. Just you wait.

No offense to any Texans who might be reading, but you guys have got some real winners down there. First you sic both the Bush boys on us, and now you've got David Dewhurst creating a political stir.

Seems Mr. Dewhurst wanted to hammer home the message that he's a blue-blooded patriot, which should be reason enough to elect him to the office of lieutenant governor as well as keep people's confidence in him as newly-appointed Head of Homeland Security, so he took a four-page ad in Texas Monthly telling everyone what a great American he is. Apparently, his graphic designer wasn't too convinced of this, as one of the four pages of the spread showed a picture of a man in uniform standing in front of an American flag. Too bad the man was wearing the uniform of the Luftwaffe -- the German Air Force.

No one on Dewhurst's campaign caught it, but the local papers all did. The Dallas Morning News ran a story on it featuring a quote from a campaign aide, who said the graphics designer "has been dealt with appropriately." Can we say "sacked"? Can we say "will never work on a political campaign ad again"? I knew we could...

No offense to any Texans who might be reading, but you guys have got some real winners down there. First you sic both the Bush boys on us, and now you've got David Dewhurst creating a political stir.

Seems Mr. Dewhurst wanted to hammer home the message that he's a blue-blooded patriot, which should be reason enough to elect him to the office of lieutenant governor as well as keep people's confidence in him as newly-appointed Head of Homeland Security, so he took a four-page ad in Texas Monthly telling everyone what a great American he is. Apparently, his graphic designer wasn't too convinced of this, as one of the four pages of the spread showed a picture of a man in uniform standing in front of an American flag. Too bad the man was wearing the uniform of the Luftwaffe -- the German Air Force.

No one on Dewhurst's campaign caught it, but the local papers all did. The Dallas Morning News ran a story on it featuring a quote from a campaign aide, who said the graphics designer "has been dealt with appropriately." Can we say "sacked"? Can we say "will never work on a political campaign ad again"? I knew we could...

As if I weren't baring all for you to find out my innermost secrets anyways... this one is blatantly pilfered from Erin:

Living arrangement?
Sharing a way-too-expensive 2BDR with an Iowa transplant.
What book are you reading now?
Just finished The Hammer of Eden by Ken Follett. It was a loan from a friend. It wasn't very good. But I have this problem that once I start a book or a movie, unless it's really bad, I have to find out how everything works out in the end.
What's on your mousepad?
A picture of me & my dad, taken at a family friend's house at Thanksgiving about 5 or 6 years ago.
Favorite board game?
Stratego. Man, I really miss that game. I still remember my foolproof strategy to win. And no, I'm not sharing it. You never know when I might show up at your place with a Stratego board.
Favorite magazine?
Tossup. I like Maxim for its fun outlook and bugger-all attitude, but I really like Esquire's classy style and their articles are top drawer.
Favorite smells?
A good barbeque restaurant. Fresh clean air on a spring day, most likely after it's rained the night before. Bakeries. New car smell. (And by the way -- new car smell in a can does not smell like new car smell. It smells like marzipan, which is a great smell, but is distinctly different.)
Favorite sound?
A great song. The ocean waves crashing in. The stillness of nighttime in a rural area.
Worst feeling in the world?
Guilt.
First thing you think when you wake up?
Thought processes don't begin until at least 15 minutes after I've gotten out of bed. Next question.
Favorite color?
Blue.
How many rings before you answer the phone?
Enough to bring up the caller ID.
Future child's name?
Something cool. I've always liked the name Quinn, and it can be used for both sexes. We'll see though.
Most important thing in life?
One thing.
Favorite foods?
Just about anything that's really bad for me.
Chocolate or vanilla?
Chocolate.
Do you like to drive fast?
Hell yeah.
Do you sleep with a stuffed animal?
No, Curious George sits on a speaker that's propped up on my dresser. I've had him since I was 1. He's old enough to drink.
Storms: cool or scary?
Cool. Just as long as I'm not caught outside in the downpour.
First car?
1986 Toyota Camry. Maroon. I put 17,000 miles on that car the first year I had her.
If you could meet someone dead or alive...?
Einstein. Or maybe Jesus.
Favorite alcoholic beverage?
Depends on what I'm in the mood for. If it's beer, it's usually Miller Lite. If it's liquor, I'll usually go for the gusto with a Long Island Iced Tea.
What's your zodiac sign?
I'm technically a Sagittarius since Sag ends on December 21 and that's my birthday, but I'm right on the cusp with Capricorn. I fit more of the Sag traits though. I'm definitely fiery.
Do you eat broccoli stems?
I avoid broccoli like the plague. I can't stand it.
If you could have any job you want, what would it be?
Either afternoon drive or nighttime DJ at a really big alternative station. Maybe KROQ in L.A. or The End in Seattle.
If you could dye your hair any color?
I wouldn't want to. I tried it once, and since my hair is so jet black anyways, you couldn't see it at all unless I was standing directly under a light and you were looking down on me.
Ever been in love?
Yes.
Is the glass half empty or hall full?
Depends on what's in it. If it tastes good, it might be all empty after I chug it.
Favorite movie?
Too many to pick from. Next.
Do you type with your fingers on the right keys?
Yup. Good ol' Typing Tutor IV for the Apple II taught me typing.
What's under your bed?
At the moment, a rabbit. Also most of my audio tapes, a fair amount of wires & cables, and the original internal CD-ROM drive from my computer.
What's your favorite number?
88.
What's your favorite sport to watch?
Basketball, I guess, since it moves pretty fast. Baseball & football are usually pretty slow, and I've got a fairly short attention span.

As if I weren't baring all for you to find out my innermost secrets anyways... this one is blatantly pilfered from Erin:

Living arrangement?
Sharing a way-too-expensive 2BDR with an Iowa transplant.
What book are you reading now?
Just finished The Hammer of Eden by Ken Follett. It was a loan from a friend. It wasn't very good. But I have this problem that once I start a book or a movie, unless it's really bad, I have to find out how everything works out in the end.
What's on your mousepad?
A picture of me & my dad, taken at a family friend's house at Thanksgiving about 5 or 6 years ago.
Favorite board game?
Stratego. Man, I really miss that game. I still remember my foolproof strategy to win. And no, I'm not sharing it. You never know when I might show up at your place with a Stratego board.
Favorite magazine?
Tossup. I like Maxim for its fun outlook and bugger-all attitude, but I really like Esquire's classy style and their articles are top drawer.
Favorite smells?
A good barbeque restaurant. Fresh clean air on a spring day, most likely after it's rained the night before. Bakeries. New car smell. (And by the way -- new car smell in a can does not smell like new car smell. It smells like marzipan, which is a great smell, but is distinctly different.)
Favorite sound?
A great song. The ocean waves crashing in. The stillness of nighttime in a rural area.
Worst feeling in the world?
Guilt.
First thing you think when you wake up?
Thought processes don't begin until at least 15 minutes after I've gotten out of bed. Next question.
Favorite color?
Blue.
How many rings before you answer the phone?
Enough to bring up the caller ID.
Future child's name?
Something cool. I've always liked the name Quinn, and it can be used for both sexes. We'll see though.
Most important thing in life?
One thing.
Favorite foods?
Just about anything that's really bad for me.
Chocolate or vanilla?
Chocolate.
Do you like to drive fast?
Hell yeah.
Do you sleep with a stuffed animal?
No, Curious George sits on a speaker that's propped up on my dresser. I've had him since I was 1. He's old enough to drink.
Storms: cool or scary?
Cool. Just as long as I'm not caught outside in the downpour.
First car?
1986 Toyota Camry. Maroon. I put 17,000 miles on that car the first year I had her.
If you could meet someone dead or alive...?
Einstein. Or maybe Jesus.
Favorite alcoholic beverage?
Depends on what I'm in the mood for. If it's beer, it's usually Miller Lite. If it's liquor, I'll usually go for the gusto with a Long Island Iced Tea.
What's your zodiac sign?
I'm technically a Sagittarius since Sag ends on December 21 and that's my birthday, but I'm right on the cusp with Capricorn. I fit more of the Sag traits though. I'm definitely fiery.
Do you eat broccoli stems?
I avoid broccoli like the plague. I can't stand it.
If you could have any job you want, what would it be?
Either afternoon drive or nighttime DJ at a really big alternative station. Maybe KROQ in L.A. or The End in Seattle.
If you could dye your hair any color?
I wouldn't want to. I tried it once, and since my hair is so jet black anyways, you couldn't see it at all unless I was standing directly under a light and you were looking down on me.
Ever been in love?
Yes.
Is the glass half empty or hall full?
Depends on what's in it. If it tastes good, it might be all empty after I chug it.
Favorite movie?
Too many to pick from. Next.
Do you type with your fingers on the right keys?
Yup. Good ol' Typing Tutor IV for the Apple II taught me typing.
What's under your bed?
At the moment, a rabbit. Also most of my audio tapes, a fair amount of wires & cables, and the original internal CD-ROM drive from my computer.
What's your favorite number?
88.
What's your favorite sport to watch?
Basketball, I guess, since it moves pretty fast. Baseball & football are usually pretty slow, and I've got a fairly short attention span.

My dad's always tried to expose me to cultural influences, most of which he'll drag me into kicking & screaming but will thank him for afterwards. It helps to impress your bosses when they make obscure references to '50s or '60s movies and you understand it, or vice versa. It also helps when you're watching Zoolander and the film spoofs a scene from 2001: A Space Odyssey and it turns out you're the only person in the entire packed theatre who's seen it because you're the only one laughing hysterically.

Part of my "education" included several trips to various museums in New York. One bright morning, Dad & I hopped a train to New York and set off for the Museum of Modern Art. Now, I've never really been an art fan. Paintings & pictures, they're nice to look at if they're done by friends or they're of things you know and can relate to. But that's about the depth that I can get into them. And as far as "modern" art goes... well, I never really understood the rationale behind that. So a whole afternoon looking at paintings at the MoMA didn't exactly excite me. But I went anyways, if only to appease my father.

So we're standing there in the MoMA looking at a painting done by the esteemed modern artist Jackson Pollock. It's a long rectangular canvas, about 2 feet tall and 4 or 5 feet wide. It's a white canvas with a large red stripe down the middle of it, but the stripe is a little messy and there's blobs of paint around it. It's worth $4 million.

I remember standing in front of this monstrosity, wondering who in hell would pay more than $10 for it and why it was hanging in a museum. I looked at it again and thought it looked like Pollock dipped a 3 year old in red paint and allowed the kid to crawl across the canvas. And I don't know what was more mortifying for my father, the fact that I said this out loud and then asked "why in God's name is this worth $4 million?" or the fact that other museum patrons heard me say it, then came over to my dad to tell him what a smart kid he had.

My dad's always tried to expose me to cultural influences, most of which he'll drag me into kicking & screaming but will thank him for afterwards. It helps to impress your bosses when they make obscure references to '50s or '60s movies and you understand it, or vice versa. It also helps when you're watching Zoolander and the film spoofs a scene from 2001: A Space Odyssey and it turns out you're the only person in the entire packed theatre who's seen it because you're the only one laughing hysterically.

Part of my "education" included several trips to various museums in New York. One bright morning, Dad & I hopped a train to New York and set off for the Museum of Modern Art. Now, I've never really been an art fan. Paintings & pictures, they're nice to look at if they're done by friends or they're of things you know and can relate to. But that's about the depth that I can get into them. And as far as "modern" art goes... well, I never really understood the rationale behind that. So a whole afternoon looking at paintings at the MoMA didn't exactly excite me. But I went anyways, if only to appease my father.

So we're standing there in the MoMA looking at a painting done by the esteemed modern artist Jackson Pollock. It's a long rectangular canvas, about 2 feet tall and 4 or 5 feet wide. It's a white canvas with a large red stripe down the middle of it, but the stripe is a little messy and there's blobs of paint around it. It's worth $4 million.

I remember standing in front of this monstrosity, wondering who in hell would pay more than $10 for it and why it was hanging in a museum. I looked at it again and thought it looked like Pollock dipped a 3 year old in red paint and allowed the kid to crawl across the canvas. And I don't know what was more mortifying for my father, the fact that I said this out loud and then asked "why in God's name is this worth $4 million?" or the fact that other museum patrons heard me say it, then came over to my dad to tell him what a smart kid he had.

As if we couldn't live our lives online enough online, now we have Online BubbleWrap Popping. All of the fun, none of the mess. What's next, virtual nose-picking?