True or False:

Jeremy is so in love with me.

True or False:

I feel guilty if I drive over 75 mph.

True or False:

I stayed sober until I was 20.

Perspective

Sometimes I think things like:

What if someone breaks into my house and kills me in my sleep?

And sometimes I think things like:

What if my hair dryer stops working before I'm finished drying my hair?

But you have to look on the bright side of things. Like "being killed in my sleep is better than being raped and beaten first" or "hey, I've always wanted to try my hair curly!"

Hey, your ride is here.

Wednesday.

1. Why does there have to be an odd number of Smarties in each package? It seriously annoys me.

(and I'm talking about real Smarties, not those fucked up chocolate things.)



2. Isn't it funny how that song Bad Day by Daniel Powter is so happy and peppy that it makes me smile when I sing it?

Something I saw today.

Wouldn't you laugh all the time if you lived on Nutwood Street?

I would.

Luke at me. (wink wink)

Sometimes when I'm notarizing something I get this whole superiority complex. It's because of that part at the end that says "Witness my hand and official seal."

I'm like, yeah that's right. Witness it, bitches.

napkins

You know when you heat up your lunch in the microwave and you put a paper towel over it in case it explodes all over the place?

Do you use that paper towel when you eat?

I always feel like it's infused with radiation, so I throw it away. I'm curious to know if others have the same irrational ideas.

Come on, Scooter. Enlighten me.

I forgot to tell you something.

Even if you know how useless you are without it.

Even if you know you won't have the patience to do it in the morning.

Even if you're OCD enough to use your coffee pot's timer on the weekends.

Even if.

Don't grind coffee before bed when you've been drinking.

You'll just make a mess.

Trust me on this.

Also, it smells like pepper.

Have you ever found a shampoo that is so good that even the next morning your hair still looks (and feels) great? I have.



But it's $20 a bottle. Not a big bottle, I'm talking $20 for 10 ounces. Plus, I need the conditioner.

How much is awesome hair worth to you?

I need some justification here, people.

it's lunchtime

One thing about living across the street from a school. Those fucking kids scream all the time. I don't get it.

The best part of waking up is Charlotte in your cup.

Nothing wakes you up like a piping hot cup of spider coffee. Wouldn't you say?

Good thing this is the coffee pot at work and not my Cuisinart. Because I'll never be able to drink coffee from it again. Memories.

That's some coffee.

This picture is from Tuesday, not today. Couldn't be today because I'm not at work today. Or tomorrow. That's right, babies, four day weekend for Cindy the Lou.

Jealous?

How do you get Helen Keller to keep a secret?

Break her fingers.

Missing.

Do ghosts steal keys?

P.S.
Saw the Fudge Lover today. In the flesh.

Yeah, so I've been watching a lot of TV.

Fuck you, Heroes, for being gone for five weeks.

And fuck you, CSI, for scaring me.

And what's up with Dave Matthews only playing retards on TV and movies?

*****************************


So, Red's been popping up all over the place.

Medium, Psych, House.

I guess he only likes to do shows with one word names. Maybe he's a little bit OCD.

I'm going to watch The Pursuit of Happyness now. I wonder if anyone noticed they spelled happiness wrong. Dummies.

Clarification

Answer a question for me.

You know the song Our House? If you don't, it's over there to the right. Of course, if you don't, then you're lame. Anyway, I've never quite understood the line about how the kids will miss their mom in lots of ways. What ways? How many different ways are there for someone to miss their mom?

How many ways do you miss your mom?

After party.

The best thing about tequila shots is grinding the lemon slices in the disposal. Much better smell than stale beer.

Hello, friend.

I bought beer at 7-11 today. I pulled the 12-pack from the cooler and when I was walking up to the register I smiled. It has been a really long time since I bought beer at 7-11. It was like coming home.

Great post, Cindy Lou. Great post.

I was going to write a post that said:

My cat is very fat and annoying.

She kind of reminds me of someone.

And then on the word someone I was going to link to Jeremy's page.

But then I thought, no, that's too mean.

So I didn't.

I parked in the lot past 10pm.

If you got a parking ticket but they wrote your license plate wrong and there was no other identifying information on the ticket...

would you pay it?

Traffic.

You know what the problem is with sitting in traffic for an hour in the morning? By the time I get to work I have to pee like a racehorse.

I'm so emo.

The other day it was cloudy and rainy but in one spot there was a patch of blue sky in the shape of a C. I think god put it there just for me. But right above the C there was a really dark cloud. It was very symbolic.

"Gyrating temps"

What does this mean to you?

1. Dress in layers
2. Call a staffing agency right away

Hey, what does it mean when everything pisses you off all day long? When the littlest things make you want to ram someone with your car? When the laid back, mellow, let-things-roll-off-her-back girl is suddenly a rage-filled, violent, murderous (on the inside, of course) bitch?

And the exaggeration and the dramatics. What's that all about?

Tell me.

Was anyone really surprised by the end of The Illusionist? Really?

Movie

Did you know that the devil is not in The Devil Wears Prada? Yeah, neither did I.

It's kind of a stupid movie, actually. Did you see Mean Girls? It's like that, only with older actors. And boy, do I mean older.


Although, when you can't see the wrinkles on her neck she doesn't look half bad, huh?

Makes me think of that song by Bette Midler.

Oh fuck. I just mentioned Bette Midler in a post. I think that's my cue.

I saw a midget at the bus stop.

You'd think there was more to this story, but there's not. I saw a midget waiting for the bus and I hope he's not there tomorrow. That's all.

I'm still alive, I'm just busy. And I've been having issues with my Tivo and I had to

.......

This is hard to say out loud.

I watched Heroes...

in real time. With commercials.

I know.

I'll be ok.

In time.

Word up.

I think I'm going to start using the word copulate more often.
It's a funny word, copulate.

I like it.

This is why I love KFOG.

You know it's going to be a good day when you hear Stand By Your Man sung by Lyle Lovett on the radio in the morning.

I recommend KFOG to all visitors to the bay area.

Name that substance.

I want to know why the arm of my chair is all sticky.

Jeremy?

Catch up.

I finished Derailed last night. That's pretty fucked up.

I started a post on Wednesday that said:

"I'm reading Derailed right now. It's pretty fucked up."

But then I thought, no, one of those assholes will give away the ending.

Jeremy.

It's even worse than I thought.

I bought beer. I planned on drinking beer. I feel I should drink beer seeing as I'm not going to work tomorrow. But my heart just isn't in it.

So I'm sober.

How much confidence do YOU have in your deodorant?

When you're sitting in close quarters with other people, such as an airplane, or, say, jury duty, it's very rude to lean back with your arms over your head. I don't care if you smell like a fresh spring breeze, I still don't want your fucking armpit in my face.

It's that time of the month again.

Apparently, this blog has become nothing more than me rambling about movies, but hey, some might say that's an improvement.

This time I have a question about Teen Wolf. Now, I don't mean to be critical because we all love that movie. But I thought werewolves were only werewolves during a full moon. The first time Michael J changed into a werewolf it was during a full moon. For the rest of the movie though, he was a werewolf all the time. Does that mean they can choose to be that way even when it's not a full moon? That's now how it was with Oz...

I'm not buying it, Scott.


(I spelled werewolf wrong?)

Unrealistic premise.

I was watching 13 Going On 30 (really) and I have to tell you, I refuse to believe that there would be that many people at one party who know the dance from Thriller.

Yeah.

That's the part I have a hard time accepting.

Dr. What?

I accused Duckie of offering advice simply because he had nothing to post about. I threatened to do the same, and now I'm following through with that threat. (You have to follow through with threats or nobody will fear you. That one was free.)

Of course, unlike him, I give great advice. I'm like Dr. Phil, Ann Landers, and Nanny 911 rolled up into one hot package. With awesome hair.

Wait, fuck that comparison. That would be like, Dr. Phanny, or something. I don't want to be Dr. Phanny.

So, how about it, guys? Anyone want some advice?

Because I have nothing to post about.

Expanding horizons.

Ty Pennington is doing Bayer commercials now. I liked him on Trading Spaces. Then he moved to that Extreme Makeover show, the home edition. He has his own line of home furnishings at Sears. I think he may be planning to take over the world. Once room at a time.

Starting with my bedroom.

Random shower thought #1

How about that movie where Michael Keaton is reincarnated as a snowman.

That’s a little hard to believe.

I think they're getting Bruce Willis to play it in the movie.

I got some new mascara at the store the other day. It's unstoppable. This concerns me a little bit. I generally consider myself to be stronger than my make-up, but I think I'm going to watch my step around my make-up bag in the morning, just in case.

But Randal did The Wrangle.

I just finished watching Clerks 2 and I just have one thing to say. They did it backwards. They should have had the better quality film back when they were younger and thinner and had better skin. I would have appreciated the grainy black and white this time.

Guilty pleasure

99.7 FM used to be an oldies station that I liked. It's now Movin' 99.7 and it sucks. However, it's still programmed into preset number eight on my stereo so I sometimes mistakenly put it on when searching for something to listen to on my drive. I'm usually in a daze when I drive so I occasionally leave it on way past the point of decency. They play a lot of music that reminds you of the roller rink in sixth grade. This morning I heard I Wanna Sex You Up. And yeah, I left it on and listened to the whole song. Shut up, you'd do it, too.

Hey, listen to this one.

I was behind a minivan today that had an advertisement for All State Insurance on the back. Like the person driving was an agent or something. Anyway, the tail light was broken. I thought that was kind of a bad sign. I don't know about you but that doesn't leave me with a good feeling about All State Insurance. Sure, they say I'm in good hands, but how can I be sure?

I want to be this cat.

The beginning of the end.

Has anyone noticed that I totally hate blogging now?



And Jeremy, I swear to god if you comment that blogging hates me too I'm going to hunt you down.

Nothing's going on.

It's almost two and all I've done today is watch three episodes of Big Day, two eposides of CSI (Las Vegas, naturally), finished the season finale of the Dead Zone (finally), and I ate a plate of Tater Tots. Then I took a shower and realized I have no business eating a plate of Tater Tots. I think I need to go on that post-holiday diet that SJ was talking about. I've never actually dieted before. (shut up, Jeremy) I've always been a believer that if you stay active you can eat pretty much whatever you want. Apparently though, sitting around for five hours watching TV isn't quite the activity level required for that.

And maybe the lemon-garlic chicken I make with the, you know, stick of melted butter isn't such a good idea either.

Or it could just be all the beer I had last night.

Swim away, swim away!

You guys ever had this stuff? Moose Munch from Harry and David?

Don't do it.

If you ever see a bag of this around, just run away.

Trust me.

The world according to a five year old.

This just in:

Superman is cooler than Santa.

(but have a merry Christmas anyway)

My tree is more lovely than a poem.

So I'm flipping through Rolling Stone magazine (thank you, anonymous Rolling Stone subscription donor) and the kid walks by and catches a glimpse of something that automatically appeals to boys under the age of ten. Butts. Naked butts, to be exact. To make a long story short, take a look at what I saw the next time I walked into the living room.





Yeah, this is what a five year old considers an appropriate Christmas ornament.


Kids are weird.

Friday, finally.

I saw a bumper sticker that said Abortion Stops a Beating Heart and I was all, yeah, but wouldn't it be kind of creepy if it didn't?

In the morning.

You know that great feeling when you turn over in the night and look at your clock and you realize you have like, two more hours before you have to get up? You look at the clock hoping it doesn't say you have to get up in twenty minutes, and when you see it's only four AM you're all happy and you roll back over with a smile on your face.

Well, you know what feels even better? When you wake up and look at the clock and notice that you would have left ten minutes ago if you actually had to go to work today. Then you still get to roll over and go back to sleep.

That's right, bitches, I have the day off. Nice.

Frumpy day.

Those of you who have been reading this sorry excuse for a blog a while may remember what the rain does to my hair.

Well, this morning I had on a jacket with no hood and my day was ruined.

All because of my hair.

Actually, all because the jacket I should have had on was at the drycleaners and when I went to pick it up yesterday I had this whole freak out because I thought I left my wallet at DSW but found it in my car a little later incident and couldn't get the jacket because I had no money on me. Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm a gay retard. Who uses run on sentences.

Sundays always suck

I jut stepped in cat puke. I swear, I don't know why I bother feeding that cat sometimes. I would save time by just dumping the can of food right on the floor. The only fun part is when I hear her making the "I'm about to puke" noise and I see if I can get her off the carpet and to the tile in time. It's kind of like that game Perfection.

I put up a little comedy for you. Enjoy!

My own math problem

A box of See's candy + being alone in the office = bad combination.

Slave driver.

I'm so mean.

My kid is home sick today and I have him doing worksheets.

No slacking off here!

Well, I mean, after we finished watching Superman Returns and Fat Albert.

Hey

Want to hear something gross?

I use the pocket on the back of the passenger seat in my car as a garbage can, and I've been sick so right now it's stuffed full of used Kleenex.

Gross, huh?

Sometimes I wish I had an automatic

So, Turkeyblog likes to bitch about his forty minute commute, well how about my hour and a half drive home today for NO FUCKING REASON AT ALL?

No accident.
No death, no carnage.
Not a single cop or tow truck in sight.

Just fifty thousand fuckers crammed into three lanes.

And FYI, when you call 511 and you say "Are you fucking kidding me?" because they have nothing about highway 85, they respond with "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that."

Don't even bother saying it again, he still won't catch it.

It's a Jungle Out There

I don't care what anyone says, I love the show Monk. I love Tony Shalhoub. I loved him in Wings and I love him as Monk. I love the theme song. (which I don't have, but I would love...)

Some may say I love the show because I have certain things in common with the main character.

Those people lie.




I even love the chick who replaced Sharona, even though her name is Traylor. I figure she was trying to do something unique, and didn't realize that she named herself after something that gets blown away by a tornado.

And I can even forgive her for Son of the Mask.

Barely.

Maybe next time.

I wish New York & Company would stop sending me emails. I keep thinking I have real email.

Be honest.

If there was a $5 rebate offer on your beer, would you send for it?

(much too) lazy morning

I really need to get moving. But this chair is so comfortable.

I saw a Miata with the license plate BVRTRNR yesterday.

Does that say what I think it does?

Oddest thing I've seen in a while:

A sweatshirt that said "I Unicycle for Christ"

But the chick who was wearing it didn't even unicycle! Not for you, not for me, and certainly not for Christ.

Slang

A woman on the radio today called in and said she was "juiced" to have gotten through. I've never heard juiced. I don't like it much. Then again, I don't like much of the slang the young kids are using these days. Or, you know, ten years ago.

I say totally all the time.
I say dude, but only for emphasis. (I won't call you dude)
Never much liked tight.
Hated sick.

I remember when someone said those words to me for the first time. I was wearing a shirt kind of like this:


Only it was cooler, and didn't say "TAG THIS", and it was from Gap Kids so it was actually much smaller. Anyway, some guy tells me "the fish are sick!"

I was confused.

Then he said my shirt was tight and I'm all, duh, it's a kid's shirt.

Turns out, he was complimenting me. Who knew?

This morning on the KFOG morning show they were talking about how cold it’s been in the mornings lately. Irish Greg says “It was so cold in the city that when I was waiting for my train I could see my breath!”
It makes me laugh how spoiled we are here in the bay area. I’m complaining when the temperature falls below 60. God forbid it rains, that just ruins my mood all day long. If it’s not sunny and 80 it’s like the end of the world.

I bet the other states think we’re pansies.

But you know what?

They can go ahead and stand in the snow while calling me a pansy. I’ll be laughing all the way to the beach.

So there.

The three words that best describe you are as follows, and I quote: Stink, Stank, Stunk.

How the Grinch Stole Christmas is on right now. I think this is the earliest I've seen it. Usually they wait until after Thanksgiving, don't they?

I suppose it doesn't matter. Caden watches this in the middle of summer. Which isn't right, or so I've been told.

I still want to know why the Who's have antennas.

When the reality just isn't as good as the fantasy.

I've been wanting a cream colored sweater for so long. I'm picky though, I'd see them everywhere but get annoyed because the collar was to high or the knit was too thick or it was too long or it was too short. I finally found one that I liked. It's really cute and soft and comfortable and cozy and it's shedding cream colored fuzz all over my pants and in my hair and in my throat and all over my desk and it's driving me fucking insane.

I hate this sweater.

5:23pm

Is it too early to put on my sleep pants?



Please say no.

We're all pink on the inside.

On the sign in front of my son's school they have notices for the Asian Parents meeting, the Hispanic Parents meeting, and the African-American Kaffee Klatch. This causes me to wonder:

1. Where's the White Parents meeting?

2. What do these groups discuss in their meetings?

3. What the hell is a Kaffee Klatch?

Tell me, Alanis. Is this ironic?

I'm sure you've all heard about Ted Haggard, right? I'm not going to comment on the story because frankly, I just don't care enough, but today when I walked into the back room the newspaper was open to a big story about him. The quote said "I am a deciever and a liar" and I thought to myself "well, at least the guy's honest."

Then I stopped and laughed at myself.


Also, the quote bothered me because it's so redundant.

And so, the hunter becomes the prey...

There's this man that I see in the parking garage sometimes, and we do the usual hello, how ya doin' bullshit that you always do with strangers that you see often. The other day he mentioned that I was there early. Then he mentioned something about the place I work. A few days later he asked me something about the building I work in.

I started wondering, what if I'm his Fudgelover? Maybe he's stalking me. Maybe he's over there writing on his blog about the girl with the retarded license plate. (because, honestly, my license plate is retarded, but it does help me identify my car in a crowded parking lot, as I've mentioned before) Maybe he peeks into my car to find out more about me.

You can't tell much about me by my car either. Other than the carseat in the back giving away the fact that I'm a mom, it's pretty typical. CD's, Altoids, Kleenex. FM transmitter for my iPod which I hatehatehate. He might wonder about the passenger seatbelt always being buckled. But nothing else would stand out.

Well, maybe the empty beer cans and used syringes.
But everyone has those in their cars, right?

The Halloween Drop-Out

The day before Halloween and I just bought my candy. The pumpkins on the porch remain un-carved. I didn't even consider buying a costume this year and I didn't have a party or even go to one. I'm totally half-assing Halloween this year and I don't even care.

Because at least I have a Halloween squirrel to share with you.

Is one beer ever enough?

It gathers no moss.

Ok, who signed me up for Rolling Stone magazine?

Seriously, it's kind of creeping me out.

Here in CA

it's sunny and 80.

Time

Caden lost his first tooth last night. All I had was fives in my wallet so I told him I heard that the tooth fairy gives you more for your first tooth. I don't want him thinking he's getting five bucks for every tooth.

The hands rubbing together guess was the right answer. I was putting lotion on him after his bath and I was rubbing my hands together Miyagi-style. It sounded so wrong coming from his little mouth.

It seems like I never get anything done these days.

three guesses.

Last night my son said to me:

The faster you go, the hotter it gets.
That's how I like it.

Anyone care to take a stab at what he might have been talking about?

What happened here?

I was looking through my archives, trying to find that post that Ty asked me about and I noticed something.

I suck.*

I used to write so much more. I used to write about all kinds of different stuff, interesting stuff*, even. I'd post more than once a day, and I'd be kind of funny sometimes*. What the hell.

Maybe this is coming to an end. Maybe, after two years, I've finally run out of things to say.

I guess I could always tell you what's in my Tivo.

*Yeah, Jeremy. I know. Go for it.

I love George W Bush.

(I don't want to get in trouble)

**How about this, Scooter**


And will someone tell Gavin to behave himself, please? Damn.

I love a fudge lover and there's nothing you can do about it.

Dude, I saw the fucking Fudge Lover today! I can't believe it. I was walking up to my car and there was the Fudge-mobile, driving away. It was actually quite anticlimactic since I only saw her profile and it was across the parking garage, but hey, I know now that the Fudge Lover is indeed a woman. I'm one step closer to becoming, uh, I mean, knowing the Fudge Lover.

She will be mine.

Oh yes.

She will be mine.

Would You Rather...

Since nobody is getting the point (suicide joke) of my last post, I'll throw this out here. They were asking people this morning on Live 105, would you rather kick a kid or shoot a dog. The response was like 83% for kicking the kid. The girl on the show was getting kind of indignant, saying people value dogs over kids, but I think that people value life over a bruise. I mean, if the question was would you rather shoot a kid or shoot a dog, I'm sure it would be overwhelmingly for shooting the dog. Maybe not 100%, but close, right? I would shoot a dog over shooting a kid, but I wouldn't shoot a dog over kicking a kid. I'd even kick my own kid before I'd shoot a dog. But I wouldn't kick him very hard.

This is how I know Terra loves me.

Email from Cindy to Terra: 6 o'clock is good. But I may be dead in the bathtub.

Email from Terra to Cindy: So you'll be naked then?

Body parts on the freeway.

There's a shoe on the side of 280 that I see every day on my way home. It must have a red sock in it, because it at first glance it looks like it has a bloody foot in it. But that can't be true, right? They wouldn't leave a shoe with a bloody stump in it on the side of the freeway, right? If there was like an accident there or something, they would have taken the foot with them. They would have.

But that doesn't stop me from looking at it and thinking "there's that shoe with the bloody stump in it" every day on my way home from work.

And what if it really was a shoe with a bloody stump in it? What if the cops thought the EMT's grabbed it, and the EMT's thought the coroner took it and the victim was dead, or maybe just unconscious, but I think dead and the shoe just stayed there? Oh, and the other shoe is several yards past the bloody one, but this one's clean. I think a hobo was wandering the freeway at night and was hit. Hit and run, probably. A drunk driver wouldn't stop for a hobo. I think.

It's been there for a couple of weeks, and I always see it, I look for it now. I'm way too into this shoe. I wish they would take it away.

I hate seeing that bloody stump.

(but god damn, I love saying "bloody stump", or did you not catch that?)

I screwed up.

My son has a loose tooth. I want it to fall out, so I told him not to wiggle it because it grosses me out. I know that telling him that will make him play with it more.

The thing is.

It really does gross me out.

Seeing it wiggle in there and remembering what it feels like makes me feel like throwing up.

And now I've handed him all the power.

A poem and some other stuff on a Monday.

In fourteen hundred and forty two
Columbus sailed the ocean blue.
And because he found his way
I do not have to work today.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Dude, these fucking talking dolls are creepy as hell. Amazing Amanda. Yeah, she's amazing all right. Just sleep with one eye open because I can easily see Amazing Amanda standing over you with a knife in her little rubber hand. When little Amanda says no, you better fucking listen. But seriously, do kids really want a doll that says no and poops? What kind of fun is that?

You want to know the sad truth?

Whatever you ground your kid from, you're grounded from, too. That sucks big time.

Be careful what you ground your kid from.

One more day

You know what really pisses me off?

When Ticketmaster sends me an email that says

"Don't miss Guns n' Roses".

That really pisses me off.

Death rides the uh...freeway.

I saw some roadkill this morning, oh man this was some disgusting shit, I tell you. All spread out and bloody. One of those things where you drive through some blood and guts and you're all "gross" then you drive through some more and you're all "oh man" then you drive through even more, and you're weaving all over trying to dodge the carnage and you wonder if it will ever end? And you're trying to figure out what the hell kind of animal it was that would make such a big mess but you can't make out any distinguishing characteristics of any kind of animal you've ever seen before because basically every feature has been demolished and spread all over the road like peanut butter. Crunchy peanut butter.

It was nasty.

I may even go as far as to triple dog dare you.

I want everyone to post a picture of themselves. I'm tired of these half faces, just lips, faces hidden by beer, pictures of necks, all that shit. I want real pictures, a cheesy smile for the camera and everything. And it has to be within the last year, I know some of you assholes will be all "hey, you said it had to be me, you didn't say anything about it not being me at age two."

I dare you.

I snoop. So what.

Today the Fudgelover has a McDonalds cup in her cupholder. (Yeah, I'm going with her, I just don't think a man would have a heart in his license plate) I wonder what happened to the Propel Fitness Water?

It's one of those days.

I just noticed I'm wearing my underwear inside out.

I like manly men.

I found these at the candy shop on Pier 39 a while ago. I couldn't resist them. It was a toss up between these and the ones that said "Just like dad!" but these won.

They make me think of Latigo Flint.

I think he'd go for these. After killing twelve men. With a revolver.

To the lady at the McDonald's Playland:

If you don't like the fact that I tied your kid's shoes then get your fat ass outside and do it yourself. The ground is wet, his socks are soaked, and he needs his (awesome) brown Converse high tops. So instead of glaring at me maybe you could step away from your super sized #3 and pay attention to him.

Stupid.

Love, Cindy

T.G.I.F., huh?

Well, the week is finally over. I had a very hectic week, but the only thing I have to do this weekend is lay around. And, you know, stuff.

I'm putting L.A. County by Lyle Lovett up for Amy. She made me think of it today, and now it's stuck in my head.

Have I ever told you how much I hate Jeremy?

Wednesday driving...?

I've been a sucky blogger.

My dad is in town, I've been busy. Busy watching the O'Reilly Factor and the History Channel. Did you ever want to know how the concept of horsepower was developed? Well, I can't tell you because I wasn't paying attention but I bet my dad could explain it word for word, if you ask nicely. Oh, and use correct grammar, he's a stickler.

Great, now he's watching Benny Hill. I just don't get Brittish humor. I mean humour. I'm going to bed.

Sunday driving.

I noticed something today when I was out. People put the most retarded things on their cars. I saw a Buick with a license plate frame that had fake bullet holes all the way around it. Why would someone put that on their car? What kind of person sees that in the Harriet Carter catalog (I'm guessing) and says "holy cow, this is so cool! I'm totally getting one"? Another license plate frame had dog heads in rainbow colors across the bottom. Kind of like this one, only dog heads instead of paws. That's a total two-for-one deal there. You're like "I'm gay and proud" but you're also telling people "and I really like my dog", right? (topic change) When I did the search for this plate I came across this gay pride website that has pet products. I think it's kind of mean to put gay pride things on your pet because really, what if he's not gay? Don't you think he might be kind of embarrassed to go to the dog park with a rainbow leash or a rainbow tag? Do you think the other dogs hit on him because they think he's gay? I feel sorry for those dogs. I bet they never get any ass. Or uh, maybe they do. Oops.

Another useless tidbit.

Peeked into Fudge Lover's car again. Saw a couple bananas and some Propel fitness water. The travel mug was gone, as was the Ikea tupperware. I think Fudge Lover may be trying to lose the fudge chub. I still have no idea what gender the Fudge Lover is, but I know that he/she works out. Or does aerobics. Or lifts weights. Or plays softball. Or simply likes Propel water and is thirsty for no reason other than liquid has not touched his/her lips in some time.



God damn it all, I love Mitch Hedberg.

P.S. Fudge chub sounds funny to me.

What's up with people who don't think I'm funny?
Seriously, I don't get it.

Come on and lie to me.

I lie to myself about coffee. How sad is that? I know I make my coffee too strong, I have a problem. There, I said it. I have a caffeine problem.

So I tell myself I'm only going to use three scoops this time.
Just three scoops.

But I make two of those scoops big, huge, heaping scoops.

But still, I only used three.

Am I right?

Nothing like Back to School Night to make you feel inadequate.

I'm so altruistic.

A woman apparently collapsed on the sidewalk outside. The firemen and EMT's came to help her and as they were loading her into the ambulance I'm looking for my friend, because he drives an ambulance in this city.

Is that wrong? Yeah. I know.

But I do wonder why the firemen drove their truck. The firehouse is like twelve feet away from where she fell. The end of the fire truck was probably blocking the driveway to the fire station. Why didn't they just run on over? I wonder.