Toss me a gallon of Visine, because my eyes are drier than the Sahara, and mama ain’t happy. While we’re on the topic, let it be known how frustrating it is to type on this keyboard. It takes me a coon’s age to type a sentence or even a mere word correctly because a solid 1/10 of the keys stick or don’t respond when pecked. I get stences that look lke this, for example. Very irritating. I burn calories and lose hair trying to write these things. Shuffling right along.
I just finished an SVU and House quadruple header. It was almost too much to handle. Christopher Meloni gets me. He gets me good. He is such a sexy man. A ripe man, but my, what a sexy ripe man he is. He’s like a bottle of fine wine.
That I ravish.
I expect a restraining order in the mail any time now.
Hugh Laurie is a god; a god among mere mortals. I was unaware that he is actually extremely British. He fakes a good “American” accent; I was fooled. House is quite possibly my favorite show, right next to Taxi Cab Confessions.
I hate the show Charmed. I also hate viewers of the show Charmed. Besides the fact that the technology is borderline stone age in appearance, I’m pretty sure “demons” and “witches” went out of style after serial rapists and robots with minds of their own entered the playing field. Just an observation.
While the hatred is flowing, who’s angry about Facebook’s five hundredth makeover? I for one am agitated. It’s a damn good thing I don’t have epilepsy, because even a slight glance at my homepage makes me fly into a life-threatening seizure. In the words of Nick Lang, “I got rid of MySpace for a reason.” Ha. Yes. Facebook, F yourself.
My house is uncomfortably steamy. I would say stifling. I do not enjoy sweating in my home. My parents are against air conditioning apparently. WELL MA, I’m against indoor perspiration. Someone’s gonna give.
They win, they always do.
“Policemen are our FRIENDS, Foreman. If you and I get separated shopping–“