“You’re not the only one…”
And it’s not even fucking summer yet.
We got the heat and humidity going on down here in Dallas now. A little late but coming in with a vengeance. That and the tornadoes. Tornadoes can bite my ass. I totally HATE this time of year.
There are so many bad bad bad commercials out there, it is no wonder I get excited when I see a good one. Or even a mediocre one. And this is what amazes me on a regular basis: People get paid a LOT to do that shit. I may not be the most creative crayon in the box, but hell, some of this shit makes me wonder about the state of this country and the individuals living in it. Oh wait, reality TV confirms that suspicion. I need to find an island and lose myself on it. With my dogs, my Kindle and iPad, WIFI, the number for a good pizza delivery guy and someone who will bring me wine and not stare at me in a weird way when I call my volleyball Wilson.
I refuse to catch and eat raw fish, though. And the whole loincloth look? Doesn’t work for me. I go for empire waistlines (very helpful with the Food Baby and all) and I loathe using real animal fur. I’ll have to revise the wardrobe a bit because your basic black really kinda sucks around the equator.
Every six months or so, I have the strangest and most compelling urge to watch “Titanic” again. Don’t ask me why. I seem to be a glutton for punishment. I remember years ago playing WoW with the non-BF and we were out in an area where there were little tiny icebergs floating in the water. I made him float while I bubble voiced “Rose, don’t let go! Never let go!” as I stood on one of the icebergs. And I wonder why he thinks I’m a nut job? And I wonder why anyone else does, for that matter? “It’s the crazy ones who have the best pills!”
One of my dogs snores. No, really snores. It’s kind of funny to listen to him sleep. I thought he was slightly “dramatic” while he’s awake? It’s like a fucking opera when he’s snoozing.
Hell, I need to get my hearing checked. Too many years of blasting the stereo in the car. I swear, I just heard Guy Fieri say that his guest needed a “big beef dick.” SO going to rewind and listen again.
One of my biggest fears is that one day, I will get into trouble. The going to jail part isn’t really scary to me (except if they have those vulgar orange jumpsuits, then I might cry). My fear is that they (They being the cops or DA or whomever, I watch WAY too much Law & Order!) will subpoena my text message records. I can text some seriously disturbed shit that, taken out of context or not having the history of me and text recipient, could be taken the wrong way.
“If I see another goddamned clown, I WILL punch it in the face!”
“Asparagus Pee is not the worst thing that can happen to you, girl.”
“I can’t see anything leaking.” (Still cannot figure out the context of this one.)
“Is it too fucked up that I video that shit? Wouldn’t you?”
“Oh NO. The passive-aggressive evil twin is out!”
I still cannot read anything without recalling the university professor I had who said that people who use commas unnecessarily were like “loose girls.” To this day, I still get offended that he didn’t say “loose people.” Men can be whores, too.