I have, what you might call, A LOT on my mind right now. Hence there will be no rhyme, reason, cohesion, plot, sense, whatever in the following post. I know, what makes today any different, right?
Tonight is the live finale of The Biggest Loser. Not that I care. I mean, really - who would watch a trainwreck like that? Not me. And I totally didn't vote for Ed last week either. Stupid.
My old lady neighbor appeared like a creepy Christmas ghost in the shrubs between our houses last night at dusk and scared the shit out of me. I was trapped into a half hour conversation, but I found out some interesting stuff. All this time I've thought her dog is fourteen, but I must've heard her wrong. She's eighteen years old. I didn't even know that was possible. I asked her what kind of food she feeds her and I'll be buying it from now on. Science Diet. She also told me a Verizon truck was parked in our front yard for like an hour today. This is weird because (A) we don't have Verizon and (B) what the hell is she doing looking at my yard for that long? Nosy neighbors are sometimes a good thing though, and had I had someone like her a few years ago, I wouldn't have suffered the tragedy of having a Hickory Farms gift basket go to rot while I was gone on vacation. All that wasted cheese and sausage, very sad.
Not surprising, but Sister is getting one of those computer book reader things for Christmas from her husband. Not surprising both because she loves to read as much as I do and her husband loves gadgets as much as we love to read. I'm excited to find out how she likes it. And yes I know she reads this and no I did not ruin the surprise. I'm famous for ruining the surprise, but this time I'm safe. I'm pretty sure.
And finally, this:
Oh Brad, why? I'm sure it's for a movie role (I pray), but seriously. You look like a crime-fighting pastry chef. Now that I think about it, ever since you've been with the she-devil, your looks have taken a severe downward turn. I can't believe it's taken me this long to notice. A lot of women don't find Brad hot to begin with, but me, I was not one of those women. Emphasis on WAS. In fact, I don't think anything about him has been right since Fight Club.
In fact, it was that movie that inspired me to invent a word. You know those muscles men have, right there on the hip/groinal area? Those cute little indents? Well, the way his looked in that movie caused me to name those muscles "Brads" because they were sheer chiseled perfection. That, and I don't know the real name of them. But "Brads" pretty much covers it. But now, I don't know. If he keeps getting uglier and having more kids to perpetuate the new Super Race I know he's trying for, I may have to think of a new name for that man muscle. "Johnnys" just doesn't have the same ring to it.