Sunday, December 04, 2005
Lookin at my roley, it's about that time
Everybody and their mom run a celebrity website now. It seems with the advent of the online tabloid, regular Joes have taken it upon themselves to uproot the traditional Star and Enquirer as dishers of gossip. What’s funny is that there is a distinct difference between the good ones and the bad ones. The bad ones often run the same pictures as the good ones, but with much less wit and sarcasm, thus, less entertaining. But even the good ones sometimes seem contrived because they have to be biting, otherwise their visitors stop coming. I find it interesting that as we want to dole out harsh criticism to paparazzi, we are at the same time eating up their “caught-red-handed” photos. The only difference between the trash at the store and the trash on the internet is $3.95.
That being said, I am still a fan of celebrity news sites, but I still feel like folks don’t know when to stop. Not everybody has a way with words that makes their comments funny. Some mess is shitty, straight up. But there are some good ones. And they’ll continue to get my viewership (or something…).
I hate warm toilet seats. As much as I hate cold ones, I hate warm ones. It was kind of gross today because I walked into the bathroom to do my thing, and the door was still swinging from the guy who was just in there. The smell was still emanating from the bowl. I saw down and the warmth was almost stinging. “Some dude just like five seconds ago took a crap here. And I’m getting shitty seconds.” I do hate cold toilet seats, because well, they’re freezing. But at least I know there isn’t like recent butt stank sitting there waiting.
I changed up the design a bit on the blog. I don’t know if I like it or not, though. In the change, I accidentally deleted all my old stuff, like links, etc. I did check yes that that was ok, but I didn’t realize what I was doing until it was done. Sometimes mess just needs to start over.
Now that every since has started with “I”, I think it’s necessary to start this one with something else. So I just did. Anyway, I know I hated so much on the “My Humps” song. I know I have. Now I must confess. I think I may like it. Ugh, I know, where is the fork to go in my eye!? But this mess is indeed catchy, on the daily. Why do the Black Eyed Peas insist on doing this to me? I make promises to myself to not like their songs, and it seems every time I do it, I end up bouncing around to their inanity. I suppose that’s the story of life.
By the way, I’m kind of impressed with my word choice in the second to last sentence of the above paragraph. I’ve never used that word before and sometimes I tend to make words up as I go along, just to see if the word exists and if I used it correctly. I did and it does, so hootie hoo.
Well, I suppose that’s all there is to say. ¶ 11:19 PM
That being said, I am still a fan of celebrity news sites, but I still feel like folks don’t know when to stop. Not everybody has a way with words that makes their comments funny. Some mess is shitty, straight up. But there are some good ones. And they’ll continue to get my viewership (or something…).
I hate warm toilet seats. As much as I hate cold ones, I hate warm ones. It was kind of gross today because I walked into the bathroom to do my thing, and the door was still swinging from the guy who was just in there. The smell was still emanating from the bowl. I saw down and the warmth was almost stinging. “Some dude just like five seconds ago took a crap here. And I’m getting shitty seconds.” I do hate cold toilet seats, because well, they’re freezing. But at least I know there isn’t like recent butt stank sitting there waiting.
I changed up the design a bit on the blog. I don’t know if I like it or not, though. In the change, I accidentally deleted all my old stuff, like links, etc. I did check yes that that was ok, but I didn’t realize what I was doing until it was done. Sometimes mess just needs to start over.
Now that every since has started with “I”, I think it’s necessary to start this one with something else. So I just did. Anyway, I know I hated so much on the “My Humps” song. I know I have. Now I must confess. I think I may like it. Ugh, I know, where is the fork to go in my eye!? But this mess is indeed catchy, on the daily. Why do the Black Eyed Peas insist on doing this to me? I make promises to myself to not like their songs, and it seems every time I do it, I end up bouncing around to their inanity. I suppose that’s the story of life.
By the way, I’m kind of impressed with my word choice in the second to last sentence of the above paragraph. I’ve never used that word before and sometimes I tend to make words up as I go along, just to see if the word exists and if I used it correctly. I did and it does, so hootie hoo.
Well, I suppose that’s all there is to say. ¶ 11:19 PM
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Having spent a good portion of the night getting to know my girlfriends cousin, the "bar" was before us. His id read 21, but of course he was a mere 19.
The same foul bouncer who banished ***** to "eat some food for 30 minutes then hollah back" also denied access to my gf's cousin. Its cool. "We'll go on our merry way", I thought. Except then he took the id. It was a real identification card just not government issued.
It was nearly freezing as the thought to confont him and retrieve the id bubbled from our group. I was nominated.
"It was a fake id, your not getting the card back. Ask again and I'm calling the police."he said before a word came from my mouth. Nice.
This bouncer pissed me off. If I had showed him a YMCA card, what was he going to do than? --> take it? That's stealing!
Dishearted I walked toward the exit of the bar. One of my friends who (whos b day it was) was entering as I was leaving. This is where the funny part happens.
So, we're both walking out together now becasue the bouncer told her she was too drunk. My friends upset because shes never been kicked out of a bar before. And to top the cake, I have no id. Its all the alcohol's fault!!!
This is a supplemental story.
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The same foul bouncer who banished ***** to "eat some food for 30 minutes then hollah back" also denied access to my gf's cousin. Its cool. "We'll go on our merry way", I thought. Except then he took the id. It was a real identification card just not government issued.
It was nearly freezing as the thought to confont him and retrieve the id bubbled from our group. I was nominated.
"It was a fake id, your not getting the card back. Ask again and I'm calling the police."he said before a word came from my mouth. Nice.
This bouncer pissed me off. If I had showed him a YMCA card, what was he going to do than? --> take it? That's stealing!
Dishearted I walked toward the exit of the bar. One of my friends who (whos b day it was) was entering as I was leaving. This is where the funny part happens.
So, we're both walking out together now becasue the bouncer told her she was too drunk. My friends upset because shes never been kicked out of a bar before. And to top the cake, I have no id. Its all the alcohol's fault!!!
This is a supplemental story.
# posted by 
: December 05, 2005 10:56 PM
: December 05, 2005 10:56 PM<< Home
