I've been neglecting you...that small, foolhardy group of gluttons-for-punishment who dare to log in and read my wacky ramblings.
But it's been for a good cause.
I'm writing a book. It's a romantic suspense with attempts at humor thrown in to amuse, quite possibly, no one but myself. I was inspired by a real life, bestselling author who took a few minutes out of one of her days of being famous and internationally published to personally e-mail me and tell me to sit my butt in a chair and write. So I have been.
I'm taking a little break today, so for the next 20 minutes, I'm yours. So many things I could blog about -- Britney and her breakup, Britney and her growing friendship with fellow media whore Paris, Britney and her lack of interest in wearing underpants. In fact, my son could loan her his Thomas the Tank Engine and Lightning McQueen underwear since he's too busy pooping in his damn pullups to bother with them himself.
How about blogging about the ninny they featured on the last season of ABC's The Bachelor, a guy they touted as "Prince Lorenzo" and made sound like a hot Italian lover. Turns out, he was a spineless, vacuous twit who sells some line of gourmet dog spa products (although they vaguely referred to it as a "cosmetics business") and chose Jennifer, an equally shallow elementary school teacher who is -- as rumor has it -- already cheating on him. Meantime, I hope that Sadie, the beautiful, funny, caring woman who he dumped in a sniveling, pathetic way in the final episode -- realizes what great luck she had. She and the show made a big deal about her saving herself for marriage, and although hearing about her wholesomeness and purity grew old quickly, I'm really glad she didn't waste such a precious gift on such a moron.
How about blogging to warn the free world, DO NOT RENT MIAMI VICE, THE MOVIE. Those who know me will attest to the fact I am, in no uncertain terms, totally hot for Colin Farrell. But this movie was, quite possibly, the worst bit of moviemaking in the past decade. Everyone mumbled, in many cases with thick Latin or Asian accents. I still have no idea what was going on; the plot was generally "drug-running bad guys shoot at Miami-Dade vice cops who drive around in Ferarris, live in $5 million condos and carry around UZIs like they're Kate Spade handbags." I couldn't even enjoy Colin. He was sporting some half-grown-in handlebar mustache and greased-back hair in some two-year-old-girl's excuse for a ponytail. The entire two hours and $4.31 rental fee made me wishing I'd eaten a Happy Meal and taken a nap instead.
How about blogging to remind everyone that there are only 774 days, 1 hour, 43 minutes and 45 seconds until the end of the Bush presidency. As of 9:17 a.m. today. To keep track, you can bookmark this page: http://bushclock.lose.com/
How about reminding people, as if y'all need reminding, that Taco Bell is hazardous to your health. You all knew it. Now it's been confirmed. E coli in 7 states. There's a reason why people refer to it as "Taco Smell," "Taco Hell" or "Taco Death Knell." 'Nuff said.
How about blogging to all my fellow reporter types out there with a friendly warning. When you're interviewing the owner of a hair-removal business about all the different ways there are to remove men's back hair, I suggest you do your interview somewhere other than in an eating establishment. I spent 45 minutes the other day in a coffeehouse, trying to digest my cranberry scone and cafe au lait while listening to these two talk about the stigma of hair removal for men, all the different ways to remove hair and all the various body parts from which hair may be removed. On the positive side I don't need to read the article now. I learned more than I ever wanted to know.
On that note, enjoy your morning pastry and latte.
Keep coming back. I will.
But it's been for a good cause.
I'm writing a book. It's a romantic suspense with attempts at humor thrown in to amuse, quite possibly, no one but myself. I was inspired by a real life, bestselling author who took a few minutes out of one of her days of being famous and internationally published to personally e-mail me and tell me to sit my butt in a chair and write. So I have been.
I'm taking a little break today, so for the next 20 minutes, I'm yours. So many things I could blog about -- Britney and her breakup, Britney and her growing friendship with fellow media whore Paris, Britney and her lack of interest in wearing underpants. In fact, my son could loan her his Thomas the Tank Engine and Lightning McQueen underwear since he's too busy pooping in his damn pullups to bother with them himself.
How about blogging about the ninny they featured on the last season of ABC's The Bachelor, a guy they touted as "Prince Lorenzo" and made sound like a hot Italian lover. Turns out, he was a spineless, vacuous twit who sells some line of gourmet dog spa products (although they vaguely referred to it as a "cosmetics business") and chose Jennifer, an equally shallow elementary school teacher who is -- as rumor has it -- already cheating on him. Meantime, I hope that Sadie, the beautiful, funny, caring woman who he dumped in a sniveling, pathetic way in the final episode -- realizes what great luck she had. She and the show made a big deal about her saving herself for marriage, and although hearing about her wholesomeness and purity grew old quickly, I'm really glad she didn't waste such a precious gift on such a moron.
How about blogging to warn the free world, DO NOT RENT MIAMI VICE, THE MOVIE. Those who know me will attest to the fact I am, in no uncertain terms, totally hot for Colin Farrell. But this movie was, quite possibly, the worst bit of moviemaking in the past decade. Everyone mumbled, in many cases with thick Latin or Asian accents. I still have no idea what was going on; the plot was generally "drug-running bad guys shoot at Miami-Dade vice cops who drive around in Ferarris, live in $5 million condos and carry around UZIs like they're Kate Spade handbags." I couldn't even enjoy Colin. He was sporting some half-grown-in handlebar mustache and greased-back hair in some two-year-old-girl's excuse for a ponytail. The entire two hours and $4.31 rental fee made me wishing I'd eaten a Happy Meal and taken a nap instead.
How about blogging to remind everyone that there are only 774 days, 1 hour, 43 minutes and 45 seconds until the end of the Bush presidency. As of 9:17 a.m. today. To keep track, you can bookmark this page: http://bushclock.lose.com/
How about reminding people, as if y'all need reminding, that Taco Bell is hazardous to your health. You all knew it. Now it's been confirmed. E coli in 7 states. There's a reason why people refer to it as "Taco Smell," "Taco Hell" or "Taco Death Knell." 'Nuff said.
How about blogging to all my fellow reporter types out there with a friendly warning. When you're interviewing the owner of a hair-removal business about all the different ways there are to remove men's back hair, I suggest you do your interview somewhere other than in an eating establishment. I spent 45 minutes the other day in a coffeehouse, trying to digest my cranberry scone and cafe au lait while listening to these two talk about the stigma of hair removal for men, all the different ways to remove hair and all the various body parts from which hair may be removed. On the positive side I don't need to read the article now. I learned more than I ever wanted to know.
On that note, enjoy your morning pastry and latte.
Keep coming back. I will.
Comments
Cool about the book!! Good luck with it and enjoy!
I will of course keep checking your blog. Maybe not as often as I could before, b/c I started the new job which leaves absolustely NO time during the day for checking blogs/personal email/favorite Web sites/MySpace, etc. I guess that's okay... but it's nice to do one of those things if you're feeling overwhelmed with the whole job thing. Which already I am. It's been one week. I already had a meltdown at work. I tried not to but I cried. It was horrible. I pinched it off real quick though and let it go when I got home.
:(
Maybe it'll get better.