Tag Archives: television

Sugar doggy.

12 Oct

BASEBALL!?!??!?!

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I can’t watch The X Factor tonight because of rain delays for some baseball game airing on Fox. I’m displeased. Why? Why must Fox ruin my Wednesday evening? I WAS LOOKING FORWARD TO IT ALL DAY LONG!!!!!!

Not all was lost. I did bust out a mean meatloaf tonight. Boy was it good. It is now officially one of the only things I can cook. Slowly adding to that list. We’ve got meatloaf, and…..meatloaf.

I make tacos sometimes, but I don’t think that counts.

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So yesterday, my dog was over at his dog-friend’s house, whose owner (Bob) is having his entire yard resurfaced. Basically he had guys over at his house all afternoon pouring fresh loose dirt all over the place and raking it evenly across the yard. My dog decided to plunge into Bob’s koi pond and then jump back out and roll in the fresh dirt for about 15 minutes moments before I brought him home. I have never seen him this dirty in his entire life. He was literally coated in mud from head to toe. The only thing untainted was the white tip of his tail. It was a disaster. I marched him directly home and made a bee-line for the bathtub as quickly as I could get him in there, avoiding him jumping up on the couch or the bed. I scrubbed, soaped, and rinsed him til he was squeaky clean, and then let him loose. He smelled delicious.

“Raleigh smells good. What kind of soap did you use?”  Trent asked.

“Just his normal puppy shampoo,”  I replied.

“Smells different,”  he said. I shrugged. It’s not like I could confuse puppy shampoo for Garnier Fructis.

But I could confuse it for this:

And I did.

I was in such a rush to get the muddy mutt clean, I accidentally grabbed my strikingly similar looking bottle of brown sugar vanilla bubble bath instead of the milk and honey puppy shampoo.

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It was a delicious mistake. He smells like baked goods.

Howard the hummingbird bit the dust. I kept her alive for a good long five weeks. I think five weeks is a pretty impressive amount of time to keep a wild injured bird alive, considering the fatality rate. Poor thing. Not even sure what happened. She just suddenly couldn’t open her eyes or lift her head. Probably got too wasted off nectar and OD’ed. Poor bird.

WELL, I will leave you with another diddy I recorded today. A nice little Norah Jones song for a rainy afternoon.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T1zVIQW6lxc

GOODBYE!

Sorry for yelling.

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C:   You should try some country.
B:   I hate country, Cole.
C:   Not all of it is good. Like, the twangy stuff sucks, but the other stuff is pretty great.
It’s like whiskey. You just gotta keep trying it and eventually you’ll find something you like.
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Trapped.

9 Oct

Apparently Law & Order went ahead and killed off Elliot Stabler without my knowing. I’m not sure where I missed out, but suddenly Benson is sorrowfully gazing at pictures of Stabler in her desk drawer, and her coworkers are telling her to “move on,” and that “nothing is going to bring him back.”  So….whose stupid decision was this? Sexy Christopher Meloni is part of my obsession with SVU. It’s what got me hooked in the first place. And SVU goes and kills him off? When did this happen? WHY did they do this?! And how did I miss this episode? I’m pissed. If they start phasing out Mariska Hargitay and Ice-T, I’m going to flip out.

I’LL FLIP OUT!!!

I recently got a larger three ring binder to keep track of all my job files. The one I got is a 3″.

Immediately I was petrified of snapping the metal rings onto my flesh, pinching them in a death gator-grip. It only took one day for it to happen. BOY did it hurt. Why are these three ring binders so violently powerful? That snapping power rivals that of a freshwater crocodile. They’re like a bear trap. There is no reason for them to be this scary.

Speaking of bear traps, why are these considered okay? This has got to be the meanest, most cruel and painful way to catch a bear. Why is this allowed? Incredibly inhumane. THEY SHOULDN’T BE ALLOWED!!!

There is a rogue mosquito flying around my living room. Nothing makes me more paranoid than an insect in my personal space. It keeps appearing and disappearing after I frantically and spastically wave it away. Speaking of insect infestation, the stink bugs have rolled on into town. MAN they’re gross. They just flood in, covering everything, trying to penetrate the screens of every house. They say smashing and killing one attracts more. It still doesn’t stop me from stomping them out every chance I get. I hope that’s just a myth.

I am disgusted by the nicknames the entertainment press such as E! and magazines like Cosmo give celebrities. Rihanna—-RiRi? ReReally? LiLo, ScarJo, R-Patz? Who started this? It’s worse than a blubbering toddler naming its snot-covered stuffed animals. Stupid.

Well, time for me to eat 4-6 fresh out of the oven chocolate chip cookies and watch the 2nd episode of Dexter. A winning combination indeed. Peace out.

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“I like it when people say ‘it’s a bad part of town.’  They mean black people live there.”

Let’s talk about sex.

11 May

More specifically, let’s talk about Christina Aguilera’s boobs.

Let’s just say there’s nothing “D flat” about her as a singer.

They are HUGE. I have been tuning in to NBC’s new television show “The Voice” for the past couple of weeks, where singers compete to be a part of a famous artist’s coaching team amongst judges Cee Lo Green, Adam Levine (yum), Christina Aguilera, and Blake Shelton who I don’t care about because I am as interested in country music as I am in the Dow Jones. If you’ve seen the show, you’ve probably noticed that Christina is a little more….well…Miss Piggy-ish. The girl has packed on some pounds. She’s thick. Her jugs, however, are where a large amount of this new weight has gone.

Her bra? Her bra is absolutely bursting with boobs. It’s like a watermelon stand at the farmer’s market. I can’t look away. Her ta-ta’s are the size of medicine balls. They’re like giant jack-o-lanterns. They’re spilling forth like Niagra Falls, if Niagra Falls were made of knockers instead of billions of gallons of water. Babies everywhere are drooling uncontrollably at the site of these udders. Those are homogenized, pasteurized, Vitamin double-D jugs. I get so locked into her cleavage that I forget what I’m watching and find my mouth agape. Aren’t celebrities all Continue reading

Bitchelor Party.

16 Mar

I hate The Bachelor. I’ve actually never watched a single full episode (which is obvious, otherwise I would have hung myself from my shower curtain a while ago), but I’ve gathered enough from promos and commercials to give me a good enough understanding of the whole thing.

Tell me something: what are the odds of 20 women showing up to meet a random single man, and every single one of them liking, dare they even claim “loving” the random single man at first sight? Odds? Let me just say that I would rather bet on Charlie Sheen leading a Sunday school class than betting on every woman “falling in love” with rando-man on television.

The crying? There is so much crying on this show. Either these women are REALLY good actresses (doubt it), or they are stupider than Kate Gosselin and more unstable than Winona Ryder for getting that worked up over a man whose middle name and favorite color they don’t even know yet. My, god.

I almost threw up on a boat today. This had nothing to do with The Bachelor. This morning in Lake Tahoe, we arose early, geared up, and walked 3 blocks to the Heavenly gondola, only to find out it was going to be closed all day due to rowdy winds up to 100 miles per hour. Since we couldn’t ride, we decided to go blow a bunch of money on hoodies and t-shirts before our Lake Tahoe fishing excursion at 1 pm. We arrive at the marina around 12:30, and the captain warns us that if we choose to go out on the boat today, it was going to be rough, cold, windy, and probably not great for fishing. He offered us an out, but the other two men and Trent and I decided to “give it hell” and go out anyway.

The first hour out of four was pretty good. Mild/cool, mid-50s temperatures, a steady but not overbearing breeze blew across the lake, partial cloud cover broken up by breaks of sunshine, generally pleasant conditions, all things considered. I hooked three fish, all of which I lost (great). Then the wind shifted and started hauling ass out of the southwest, and things got rough.

The boat was aaaRRRROCKIN’ AND A-ROOOOOLLLIN’!!!! I spent the next three hours shifting my gaze from my quivering fishing pole, and the unmoving, landlocked, stationary and mountainous horizon in an effort to not fall victim to sea sickness and vomit all over the deck. It got colder and colder, dark, dismal, and the harsh winds drove the cold rain at us like tiny needles until we finally decided to call it a day and head back.

Oprah Winfrey’s eye-bags are large enough to park two Ford Excursions on, even under 9 pounds of foundation. Does she not know this? Does she not also know that she has enough money to give everyone in the entire Western Hemisphere face lifts if she so chooses? Someone get this woman some cucumber slices and some ice cubes. Get those puffies deflated, Op. You don’t have to be stuck looking like a haggard old woman if you don’t want to. Just ask Joan Rivers.

Alright, time to go.

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Q: How much cocaine did Charlie Sheen do?

A: Enough to kill two and a half men.