Tuesday, February 15, 2005

mid-afternoon

Aw, How Romantic - Domestic Violence On Valentine’s Day

“BRENTWOOD, Tennessee - Tennessee Titans cornerback Samari Rolle was arrested Tuesday for allegedly assaulting his wife on Valentine’s Day, police said. ”

Welcome to my first edition of, “Why Straight People Hets Shouldn’t Be Allowed to Marry and/or Procreate”.  Here, I’ll regale you with snapshots of harmony and bliss in the straight world.  I’m sure they’re all living as God had intended, in heterosexual happiness.  Gay people couldn’t possibly approach this kind of love and happiness in their homes.

An aside, I tried to use the more politically correct term “straight people”, but my template said, “Whoa there, girlie, too many letters iffen you want to add that procreating part.” My template talks.  Jealous?

Monday, February 14, 2005

mid-morning

Idiot of the Day - Kanye West

Conceited jerk.  And as far as I can tell regarding his rapping talent, he’s nothing special.  I hope his fifteen minutes are up soon.

Sunday, February 13, 2005

evening

Happy Valentine’s Day - A TV Kind O’ Love

I didn’t buy you anything pretty.  I didn’t buy you any chocolate.  Or a card.  If you’d like, picture one of those jewelry commercials, with our pets lined up on the stairs eavesdropping on us.  You can hear them saying to each other, “Look Nancy-Mom is kneeling on the floor.  I think she’s going to give Lammie something sparkly and pretty, in a little box.  Oh wait, she’s just bending over picking up the TV Guide she dropped.  Uh oh, she can’t get up.  Aw, man, birds - go back to your cages.  Dogs - to your respective corners of the house.  Yes, Dante, you too.  Cats, back to shedding and sleeping in the bonus room.  Nancy-Mom ruined the whole fake glory of Valentine’s Day.  What a bitch, man.”

Um, so I’m not getting you jewelry to prove my love.  I’m getting up in the wee hours of the morning to take our newly adopted cat to the vet for an MRI and perhaps liver biopsy.  Then, I’m taking you Starbucks for a Chantico.  Then, I’ll be changing bird waters and giving Phoenix her pills, and possibly even wiping Cricket’s butt.

Money would certainly make things easier, but nothing could make things better than they already are.  Negative, my ass.  Even though I didn’t buy you anything (although I did sell my hair...), that doesn’t mean we don’t have a tv kind o’ love.  It just means we don’t have a tv kind o’ bank account...yet.  You’re a great girlie, but more importantly, my best friend. (sniff, sniff)

evening

The Grammy Awards

Clearly, Sunset magazine knew what they were talking about.  I’m old, old as the hills.  I hate all of the new black male artists - they all sound exactly alike to me.  Plus, the attitudes, ick.  I miss Luther.  I hate the rapping - where’s the talent?  Eminem, while I’m not crazy about him, I can hear the talent.  The lyrics, the catchy choruses, etc.  Most of the rest, they just seem to be talking loudly in an odd rhythm.

The Lynyrd Skyrnd stuff bored the crap out of me.  I think Gretchen Wilson is beyond overrated.  On the other hand, I LOVED Joss Stone.  She and Melissa did a great job on the Janis Joplin tribute.  I liked Green Day.  Cute dorky boys.  Marc Anthony always looks like he got up off his deathbed to do a show.  He’s scrawny and sickly looking.  Plus, he’s always sweaty and he looks like he stinks.  Jennifer Lopez looks like she aged about ten years since the big Ben & Jen Barbara Walters interview.

Hmmm, and Ellen with Portia de Rossi.  I wonder how long this one will last.  I like Ellen, but I so wouldn’t want to be in a relationship with her.  I’m sure she, Portia and my girlfriend are all grateful I’ve come to that important decision.

evening

Dream a Little Dream of Me

I’ve been having some weird dreams lately.  A couple of nights ago I dreamt that I had to take some escalator-like thing to get to another floor of some mansion I was staying in.  I needed to get to another floor.  The really weird part is that it turned into a rollercoaster, which I was on alone, without a seatbelt and it was named The Bag Lady Express.  I think I woke up because the speed of the rollercoaster felt like an elevator dropping.

At the beginning of that dream, I was with Matt (my neighbor) and I had to give little birds water out of my hand to save them.  I got the water out of fountains at the above-mentioned mansion.  I have no idea why I was there or what Matt was doing with me. 

My worst dream is one where I’m strapped down to my bed and I can’t move, but a friend of mine is standing in the doorway watching me and she won’t help.  It’s a really weird dream because it’s the only one I’ve ever had where I felt sure that I was awake...and I’ve had it twice.  I hope to never have it again - it was really creepy and scary and I woke up actually feeling where the straps were across me.