I hate being sick.
I hate daytime television. I actually wish I had cable. I would love to watch The Discovery Channel all day long. Pretty pictures. I learned on Oprah yesterday that Benicio Del Toro thinks it’s like other planets on earth. Wow. Benicio. You are so… so…
Instead I’m watching commercials discussing some lady’s husband’s low sperm count. And she’s smiling. They both are! Lady! Your husband’s a pussy! Literally. And you’re talking about it on daytime TV. Oh yeah. I am also challenging the idea that the installers of Empire Carpets are really that good looking. No way. Their crew is picked up every morning on the corner of Sunset and Gower and fashionable smiles are not their forte.
I have received eFlowers from the nice boy from the MidWest because I am sick. Pretty amazing. He comes with no internet personality at all. I find this amazing. No MySpace page! This is good stuff. He is an anomaly. For the purposes of study, I must investigate this most fascinating creature. And also because he’s so nice to me.
Wow. Price is Right. Go Women’s Lib! Go Equal Rights! One of the Showgirls is pregers. Looks like a good nine months in there. But certainly not the jacuzzi model. Oh no. But it looks like a good nine months UP there. And Drew Carey! The dude is magnanimously underwhelmed. I bet he’s getting paid one magnanimous wadload. Isn’t that right? Go Drew. I also sense some serious perv. Go Drew. This is the world’s stupidest show. I tried to be a contestant on it once. It was closed the one day I went. I use my ticket as a bookmark now as a reminder of what a dork I can be.
I finished Portrait of Dorian Grey. Now I can focus on Ableton again.
Whoopi Goldberg cut her hair. Wow. Bow down to the pressure. I know Whoopi. It’s hard. However, I am deciding to really embrace my Tomboyism. After so many years of vintage dresses, I can’t put the jeans and cords down. I just can’t.
Correction: The View is the world’s stupidest show.
Actually, it’s a draw.
An update on the teeth. So funny. I’ve become such a lightweight but last night when rinsing with Listerine (as directed by my hygienist), I nearly passed out. Swear! The alcohol was so much! I guess you’re not supposed to drink the whole bottle.
It was only half.