Thursday...and you know what Thursdays are for!!!!
Thursdays are for thucking....what?
I developed a lisp.
And I'm still having severe typing issues.
I really think I might have a brain tumor.
But that's ok; it's kind of fun.
It is a beautiful, sunshine day outside,
and the clouds in my personal world have lifted, too!
(momentarily)
What? You think I am going to fall for the sunshine act?
Puh-leeez.
As if I would be stupid enough to think the rain clouds, the thunder, and the watermellon-sized balls of hail will ever be permanently banished from my little weather system.
But I have an umbrella.
I also had a really hot lesbian sex dream last night.
Sorry for the attention deficit disorder; just remembered!
Mmmmm....
it was super hot.
I finished watching "Stranger than Fiction" last night.
I am madly in love with that movie.
Everything about it spoke to the part of me that resides in the golgi apparatus of my cells.
(I loved biology, bite me)
The girl, the oddly slim Will Ferrell being not-funny but still making me laugh, and gorgeous Emma Thompson, as a tense-with-writer's-block, chain smoking, brilliant author!
Oh, and don't let's forget how Dustin Hoffman nailed his role as the professor who was just nutty enough to help Ferrell solve his bizzaro problem!
...and...BUSTER!!!
Don't know the actor's name, but if you watch Arrested Development, you know who I mean.
That guy rocks.
Watching it made my skin crawl with unwritten words,
my fingers fairly dance with unspilled thoughts.
Someday I will write a book.
I just listened to the BEST song.
I'm not kidding.
It's the most beautiful song ever written.
The words are haunting, but in a good way.
Like Casper.
You know how some songs just speak to you?
Yeah.
And no, I don't think I'll tell you what song it is because then you'll all know that the Black Eyed Peas, "My Humps" moves me like a power ballad from an 80s hair band.
Aw, shoooot, I just spilled the beans...
but, my humps ARE pretty
fuckin'
awesome, wouldn't you say?
Heeee.
(did my distraction technique work? You forgot all about wondering what the song was, didn't you? Ooooops. Now I've gone and called attention to it again! Well. It makes my knees weak like Bo Bice--when he performed on American Idol, NOT when he released his first album...shudder...)
It's the kind of song that makes you wish fan clubs weren't so geeky,
or stalking of musicians wasn't so "already been done."
Becuase then you could just walk up to whoever was responsible for the music/lyrics/whichever part moved you most and hug that person and maybe even press your lips softly to his or her neck where it meets the collar bone and say, "Thank you for reading the pattern of my soul and passing it through the filter of your guitar strings; my soul looks awful sparkly with your voice wrapped around it."
But alas, that Fergie probably has a body guard or something.
(what???? My humps are VERY spiritual to me!!)
(uh...humps are tits, right? Cuz if not, just scratch this entire segment...)
Speaking of American Idol,
I have broken the addiction.
I did not watch a single episode this past season.
Not one.
I, in fact, only watch the following shows:
Desperate Housewives (hey! fuck YOU. I know it's a soap opera, but I don't care.)
House (Hugh Laurie inspires emotions and physical responses in me that I can't even describe...)
The Office (sometimes I laugh so hard it hurts; other times I squirm or ache or sigh)
Scrubs (laugh. til. I. cry.)
And that is it.
I record My Name is Earl, too, and I like it a lot but just haven't had time to watch it for a while.
So I spend about 3 hours a week watching TV--minus all the commercials, cuz that's what TiVo's for!
Not too shabby.
So what in the bloodiest of hells am I doing with all my time???
Cuz I'm sure not being productive.
Shopping.
Reading.
I guess that covers it.
Oh, and working out.
I AM PATHETIC.
Seriously.
I need a job.
Or a hob
by.
Nah.
The pool opens tomorrow.
All I need is a bikini wax (ok, Nair, but wax sounded cooler...)
and a hat with a wide rim so I can read my books without going blind from the glare.
Fuck writing.
Fuck cleaning.
Fuck fucking!
I'm doing nothing this summer but swim and read,
and anyone who has anything to say about it can talk to my manager!
(...uh...anyone want to fill an unpaid intern position as my manager...?)
Ok.
I'm off to hit the gym, do some quick shopping, and go to school for yet another unbirthday!
You'd think that with twins they could manage to celebrate their summer birthday on the same randomly selected day, wouldn't you?
I know I would think that, but we'd be wrong.
Oh well.
It's fun to see them in their little world...so cute and all-grown-up, mixed with oh-so-small!
Have a fabulous day. |
posted by Bored Housewife at
9:02 AM
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