I'm edgy today and every time I start to write it turns into a laundry list of exhaustion. Even right now, I'm willing my fingers to not go into the tirade that includes how just stepping into my office six days a week is eating my soul alive.
But look, I did it again.
Tsk, tsk.
I'm unpleasant. I'm plastering this mucked up smile on my face today whenever anyone just looks in my general direction. Behind it, I'm seething and ugly. Frustrated and just edgy. It's nothing more than that hormonal freight train that smacks me square in the gut every month. By tomorrow, I'll be better but in the meantime...
- My two year old named his teddy bear Paul. We don't know a Paul. He doesn't know a Paul, yet Paul it is. Because it was either that or Two. He knows when strangers say things that are upended in his general direction, he typically answers "Two!" So now we have this thing known as Paul Bear that must be looked after and I find it so endearing I've darn near chewed his face off and squeezed him silly.
- My likeness is on a bottle of hot sauce. I use likeness loosely because this cartoon chick is incredibly hot. A portion of the proceeds go to various Fire Fighter charities. I'm sure all of you want my face looking at you over your eggs in the morning. I'll be pimping this out more when my mood lifts.
- I have 17 days until my vacation starts. I spent the first few minutes of my morning, sitting at my desk, counting little boxes on a bigger box that said 'July' at the top. And my rush to get to that last little row of boxes is kind of pissing me off as well.
I'm sparing you because I like you.
A good rule of thumb today is: Keep your nuts, shins and throat away from me. Hell, your thumbs too.
PS - Rush should probably get off of my radio and put Foreigner back on. You know, if they know what is good for them. Stupid Rush.
Today's Tom Sawyer is getting changed to another station.
PPS - I'm really not as edgy as my blog would lead you to believe. But I did take the week off of posting because this is the only kind of crap that I could come up with and I don't want any of you to throat punch me so, you know, I try to keep it to myself.
Monday, July 6, 2009
I'm putting the words Juke Box Hero in the title because the song is bitchin' and I just want to
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15 comments:
Paul is a very creative name for the teddy of a two-year-old.
You're hotter than your likeness.
I wish I were going on vacation with you.
That's all I've got: my brain is fried from sun and smut.
Two!
"A good rule of thumb today is: Keep your nuts, shins and throat away from me. Hell, your thumbs too."
That would look so lovely in a delicate frame on my work desk.
Or you know, tattooed on my forehead.
Fucking Rush. I don't understand why anyone would want to listen to Geddy Lee more than they have to. And by that I mean on purpose.
FOREIGNER
Okay, speaking of which, I'm adding the Awesomosity Button today, and Loggins.
Next week we're going to have to make it Stiles.
I did that same thing today, checking little boxes off a calendar waiting for August.
Punk always names everything after herself, or she names stuff Anna. Those are her 2 stock names.
How can I throat punch someone who has their own bottle of hot sauce?
Foreigner was my very first concert ever! They were out pimping Foreigner 4 (hells yes!) and so they had two giant inflatable juke boxes at each end of the stage and those things bounced when they played Juke Box Hero, which, if I ever hear anyone say they hate, I proclaim them a liar. I give them a pass if they say they hate Waiting For A Girl Like You, though.
Oh, how I wish I'd have traveled to KCMO last week...
:)
Please resolve these violent tendencies of yours before vacation. If you won't do it for me, do it for Paul. He's just a little bear.
I think you're the only person other than myself who thinks Jukebox Hero rocks. Everytime I'm in my car, it makes me feel big. Like, jump-on-top-of-my-car and throw my arm in the air big. Some kind of John Cusak mixed with Teen Wolf shit. I don't know.
It just gives me chills when I hear it.
Your vacation will be here before you know it. And you shouldn't be PMSing on it!!!
That hot sauce picture IS hot and very much like you from what I can tell.
I know how it feels to plaster a smile to my face and make small talk when I really want to stab people in the eyes with a pencil. Well I know you didn't say you wanted to do that per se, but I'm seething and ugly inside too. Frustrated and edgy. You are not alone.
Ugh, Rush. Gross. Hearing Rush would make me want to cut someone. Anyone. My husband loves Rush. Damn it.
I just had my mini-vacation from work and now I'm back and it's only 8:30am and I'm already a raging bitch. Damn it.
I just LOVE that your headband made it onto a hotsauce bottle! I feel a little proud now.
Mr. Wright believes, with every molecule of his being, that Tom Sawyer is the greatest rock song ever.
During yesterday's road trip, he popped my indie folk rock CD out to put in Rush and damn near beat the steering wheel to shards with his enthusiastic "drumming" session.
Imagine five children in the back of the rig (we farmed two out), crying and wailing, "What's wrong with Daddy? Do we need to do an intervention? Hold me, Mommy. I'm scared..."
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