Sunday, December 9, 2007

Random Thoughts II

Was there a fountain of sexy-youth on China Beach? Why has every woman on that show become significantly hotter with age?
Marg Helgenberger (right) Age 50.
Dana Delaney (left). Age 52.




So far the fruit industry has been well represented at the republican presidential debates. Fred Thomson looks like a plump, petrified raisin that’s been run through a dehydrator, then left to dry in the Sahara sun for about ten years. Ah well, good thing his young, blonde wife loves him for his sparkling, Scrooge on valium personality. Seriously, this guy is Jabba the Hut upright, and without the flair for charismatic speaking.

I never feel worse than when I’m holding up the line at the Post Office. I like for the agents in London to reject my work as much as the ones in the U.S., and it takes a minute to get all that international shipping business sorted out. You know, cause terrorists ship most of their biological weapons from middle Tennessee. I can feel the angry glares behind me, burning holes into the back of my neck. I bet this is what Barak Obama feels like every time he turns his back on Hillary.

If one more acne riddled grocery man-boy loads my groceries into the wrong person’s cart I’m going to hold one of those cellophane, takes ten thousand years to biodegrade bags over their heads, and murder them on the spot. Seriously, this is what I’ve lost in less than a week:
Yoo-Hoo 12 Pack (And yes I know it tastes better in a bottle, but I’m poor.)
2 Boxes Loaded Marshmallow Hot Chocolate (At this point, it’s hot chocolate or gin, so back off unless you want to pay for rehab.)
One Pack Orbitz Gum (This stuff isn’t cheap, it’s like the Heidi Fleiss of gums.)

On Extreme Makeover, Home Edition (my mother begged me to
watch), there was a 6 year old obsessed with Abraham Lincoln. They redid his bedroom in all-Abe gear. It was the creepiest thing since John Travolta put on that transgender fat suit for Hairspray. Or was that Battlefield Earth? I can’t remember...

At my new job I had to give them my social security number so that I could purchase a tiny carton of milk in the cafeteria. I declined to buy a cookie because I was certain they’d need a blood sample.

In the things my family members actually said category: “Betty Crocker’s a stupid idiot.”
---My mother, upon reading Ms. Crocker’s recommendation that instant mash potatoes be used in making potato soup.

MySpace is the most narcissistic invention since the mirror. Naturally, I love it.
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