Black Ice.

21 Feb

Apparently my bra straps have decided to migrate south for the winter. I am having the darndest time keeping them up today. I have tightened, loosened, and adjusted them a baker’s dozen times, to no avail. It’s certainly not a result of my boobs being too enormous (snort). WHAT is the DEAL? Somebody get ahold of Victoria, I need her secret.

So Facebook has gone from just having the option to “Like,” and now the option to change our minds and “Unlike.” When will I get my “Dislike” button? I will use and abuse that puppy like nobody’s business. I will undoubtedly lose many note-readers after most of them find out that I hate everything they write in their statuses….but you can’t win ’em all, by george. You just can’t.

I would like the words “Facebook,” “Splenda,” and “Google” to be added into the official Merriam-Webster dictionary. Why? Because I don’t appreciate the funny red underlining squiggle that suggests I have misspelled a word or made an accidental typographical error every time I type those words. Ironically enough, “Merriam” is underlined as a misspelling according to my computer, and they wrote the damned thing! Who can I trust anymore? I feel so lost.

I don’t Twitter. (Here I go, using nouns as verbs again. It’s a crazy world that we now live in.) I don’t “Tweet,” and I refuse to have a Twitter. Why? Well, as a general rule of thumb (Tim Nikolaev excluded), everybody that seems to have a Twitter (also see: constantly talks about Twitter), also seems to be people that I hate. Both people that I know, and celebrities. I don’t care what Paris Hilton is doing with her pom-a-doodle. I also don’t care who is drinking an iced mocha latte with skim milk on Santa Barbara Beach. I don’t, and I seriously doubt other people do, either. There is no need for me to keep everybody who has a pulse in the know that I am eating Cinnamon Toast Crunch, or folding a load of laundry, or watching National Geographic. Are we clear?

My car nearly skidded out of control on an enormous patch of leaves today. You can imagine my fright. I guess when the slippery leaves are layered four inches thick, and you’re going 38 miles per hour and hit your brakes, it does anything but act like traction. Who knew?

So I just checked the weather on theweatherchannel.com, because I am obsessed with meteorology and I like to dress for the occasion, and it read specifically this:

Thursday, October 29th:
High: 63°
Low: 41°
Chance of precipitation: 70%
Rain / Thunder / Wind
Get Extra Umbrellas

Okay. Two problems. Not only do I not own an umbrella, but I need extra umbrellas?? What kind of aquatic catastrophe are they trying to prepare me for? If there’s another Hurricane Katrina on its way, I am calling in sick tomorrow, and that’s final. Why don’t I own an umbrella, as an aside? It’s one of those things that you don’t need most of the time, but when you DO need it, you’re really glad you have it.

Kind of like the “Day After” pill.

(Kehly.)

Anyway, the point is, if anyone is feeling saintly today, I will message you my forwarding address, and you can send me an umbrella. Much thanks.

Goodbye.

“Cole, do you ever just like, get home from work, sit on the couch by yourself and drink….and just not stop?”

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