It's hard keeping up with a blog when you're supposed to be pretending to be working. The Blogger format isn't exactly what they call 'Subtle.' Plus, there isn't any work to faux do. Therefore, I've been keeping it real by sitting in my chair in 'slumped/internally horrified/angry secretary' position in order to uphold appearances. I just stare at that wall like it was the Mona Lisa. Or For Love or Money.
Just kidding. I've never even seen the Mona Lisa.
I did see Before Sunrise, last night in fact. It was so good. I really liked the part when Mandy Patinkin goes, "My name is Enugo Montoyo. You kill my father. Preparr to die," and Christopher Guest goes, "Stop saying that!"
This weekend I toiled in my 'garden,' otherwise known as 'Hell.' To commemorate our time together, Hell left a red lashing on my back, at the exact place where my shirt rode up as I crouched. Some of you would call this a 'sunburn,' but I know better. I obviously have the clap.
Oh, the humanity. It's just like they always say, "Only gender-confused racially ambiguous sexual deviants breed."
That Krugman. Always a barrel of laughs.
Here's what one would learn if one watched only Fox News: Kerry is the most liberal senator in history; Kerry is the head of a hateful and pessimistic campaign to oust God's only begotten Son, George W. Bush; John Edwards is the gayest straight married man with two kids EVER; Kerry and bin Laden flew those planes into the towers themselves, then employed prayer to Allah and lots of Teresa Heinz-Kerry's money to get out of the planes before they exploded; Kerry played Lurch on the Addams Family; and, finally, that the entire Arab population on Earth hates freedom.
I'm not saying this administration is stupid, I'm just saying anyone who would allow them to stay in office is. Yeah, Mom and Dad, I'm talking to YOU.
I saw Napoleon Dynamite this weekend (I took my burned back with me, naturally, it wanted Junior Mints but they didn't have Junior Mints, so it hurt A LOT). It was funny, I laughed, I felt my Mormon roots calling to me from the distant land of Idaho, I rejected them, I laughed. And when they played When in Rome's The Promise for the last song, a little spark appeared in my panties, and I peed just a little in excitement.
I Love the 90s sucks big time. Thanks for all the non-funny comments, Hal Sparks. What the hell with Michael Bublé? Can my Barnes & Noble brothas and sistas give me an Amen on that? In-store play Michael Bublé? If he and Josh Groban got permanent laryngitis I'd weep tears of gold and nectar.
I hate this job. Take this job. No, really, take it.