Oh man, today I’m back at work and it is the suck. Not so much my job, which is fairly straight-forward with little bouts of bullshit here or there’. Very tolerable. No, just the fact that I had to get up this morning at 6:00 A.M. and brush my teeth, wearing non-stained clothing which include PANTS. I like the idea that I can wake up and NOT put on clothes if I want. I like to be a lazy ass. You know you like it too. Don’t lie.
To make it not so harsh, I stopped at the Great Satan, McDonald’s, purveyor of the most perfect liquid nectar known to man’ McDonald’s Diet Coke. I call it their Diet Coke because it tastes unlike any other Diet Coke there is. I think they put crack in it. That’s the only thing I can account for my strange obsession with it. I also think they put lard in their shakes. Thus, their new Triple Thick shakes must have triple lard. But that’s just me.
God, I’ve been here at work for less than 30 minutes, and I’ve already logged three problem tickets. Two of them I solved immediately, the third person needs to find out the network path before I can help him. I’m not sure why he called technical support and expected ME to know what the network path was at a CLIENT’S site, given that we have thousands of clients. I now commiserate with that ‘PC Support Guy’ on ‘Saturday Night Live’.
I think our neighbors blew up their house last night. Or maybe one of the kids. I’m not sure. I tried to fall asleep but it was like the Revolutionary War outside our house. All night, I dreamt I was Cora Munroe to Daniel Day-Lewis’ Hawkeye. And the whole world was on fire. And it was more deeply stirring to my blood than any imagining could possibly have been.
That’s why I’m dependent on Diet Coke. Right there.
Last night, I discovered that you can download whole ‘Buffy’ episodes on this wonderful place. Along with loads of illegally distributed music. Oh, and porn. There’s lots of porn. So don’t just search on ‘Sting’ because you’ll find lots of ‘fisting’ and stuff like that. Not that I know what ‘fisting’ is, but I have a crazy feeling that I’m going to get a lot of Google hits off this here entry now.
I have decided to make a change to my List. The rules of the List are that you can make one revision every year. I’m actually making two revisions, but hey, I make the rules to this game, so there. Gosh, I sound so republican, don’t I?
Anyway, Antonio Banderas was really just a pinch hitter. I couldn’t decide upon that fifth spot, so I figured that he’d do in a pinch. I had really wanted to list James Marsters, who plays Spike on Buffy, but then I remembered that he’s not really English and also, a side note for Spike lovers, not really a vampire. I don’t mind the vampire bit, especially since he’s got a chip in his head, but the lack of the Anglo accent bugs me. Also, I think he’s just a little skinny boy toy. I need a man who’s got some weight behind his, er’. Movements. And I’ve been very dissatisfied with Antonio, especially knowing that he’s scrogged with Don Johnson’s ex countless times and that’s just nasty. It’s like Heather Locklear’ I don’t know why anyone would want to jump on her bod for the sole reason that she’s done the nasty with not one but two yucky gross guys (Tommy Lee and Richie Sambora). Plus Scott Baio. She used to go with Scott Baio. That’s like eating a piece of pie that you saw flies crawling on.
Also, Goran Vsijnc from ‘ER’, I have recently learned, is younger than me. That’s right. Like I need him saying ‘Well, I’m still in my twenties.’ Or calling me Ma’am. I can’t handle that. He needs to go.
So that leaves two empty spots on my list (Russell Crowe, Brendan Fraser and Sting are safe for another year). And I’ve been playing with this idea all day. Maybe Daniel Day-Lewis could fit the bill? But then, I believe he’s much shorter than me. I can’t handle that. I don’t want to feel like in the throws of passion I might break him like a twig. Or smother him. I need a Sport Utility man.
So then I was thinking about Johnny Knoxville. A little on the lean side, but tres sexy. But then my sister told me about one of her friends who knows someone who got very drunk and had sex with an even drunker Johnny Knoxville. I know that this is just random gossip but when you add this tainted mental picture to the fact that he’s a stringbean, that boots him right out of the Top Ten, if not the Top Twenty. I’d still like to see a picture of him naked, though. Just because.
Of course, if it weren’t for the stringent List rules regarding the fact that the Listees must be highly visible public figures, I’d list UB in a heartbeat. But alas, his stardom seems to be only centralized to Diaryland and his hometown, thus he is not eligible for List status. (sigh). This is one guideline that I have little power to change. If I were to change it, Carissa would then list two guys she knows and then that’s just an excuse for adultery. That is not the true nature of the List. Otherwise my list would be strikingly different.
So now I’m stumped. I’ve been playing with the idea of Kevin Spacey, but I’m worried that he doesn’t swing that way. But then, maybe he’s never had a little Weetabix luvin’? I’ve also considered adding Donnie Osmond, because, well, he’s pretty hot even now. Those blinding white teeth are an aphrodisiac.
So, if you have any thoughts on this crucial matter, help me out.
When I left for lunch today, I found a collosal bird poo on the hood of my car. Need I even tell you that I just had my car washed and waxed three days ago? Then I noticed that an even bigger poo had been poo’d on my windshield. This one was huge. I would be shocked and amazed if a poo this size came from a human child, much less a creature who has the ability to be airborne. I actually think it might be an albatross. In the ‘Rime of the Ancient Mariner’ kind of way, maybe?
And while I was driving to Taco Hell, for a bucket of tasty Diet Pepsi goodness (yes, I know I have a problem), ‘Oh Sherrie’ came on the radio. Not Pseudo-Perry, the Actual Real Steve Perry. And then I got sad because I realized that it was his solo venture and not an actual Journey song. And I wouldn’t be hearing the Pseudo-Perry bring ‘Oh Sherrie’ to the live stage. And then ‘The Future’s So Bright I’ve Gotta Wear Shades’ came on and then I was perplexed. This was an omen somehow. Because my mom used to date Pat McDonald from TimBuk3 and it meant something. Like, maybe I’d get Actual Perry to sign my butt? I’m not sure. But it means something. I know it does.
Dear ‘Livin’ La Vida Loca’,
Why are you still on the radio? You’re done now. Be gone.
Weeta
