Feeling respected. Clean vessels. Silence. Why is she telling me this?!
Remember tha kiddie game Mouse Trap? Could play that for hours, no kidding.
I haven't mastered text messaging yet because facebook, twitter, youtube and linkdn seem more important. Everyone doesn't sms due to unforeseen reasons, maybe because there's way more fun to anonymous threads just directed into the blogosphere.
The best thing about not watching football on Sunday after the regular season is QVC. Should have figured this out along time ago. Just let the random stuff air, no one's buying. I'm pretty sure the callers just want to hear their own voice on TV.
I recently found myself applying as a banquet server then realized i could just do that at home.
Is there a reason my phone sets itself? Seriously. Stop changing your ringer, phone. Music is enough, I'm not trying to electrocute myself, commit suicide fetching you while driving, or get gross and fish you out of the toilet when you buzz off the counter top.
Ninja money. Man grabbers. Ice cream socials. Play friend-ing. Phone hackers. Just to keep up appearances. Really? You must be under the impression I'm made of money.
No thank you.
Finally, something should be noted about the Grammy awards tonight and the guest that won't be present. I'm sad and don't want to elaborate. Not looking fwd to the talking heads and their finding new ways keep the story alive for the next two or three weeks either.
The Grammy awards. Question, what's with the takeover? Everyone sounds like an Aussie, Brit or like wanna be Valley. Get a new act America. Canada is cool, ya know? Enough with this for now, ice skating is much better. Click.
Looks like she needs a bath. Penny. My other dogs names might as well be I'm right and I'm wrong. Two days a week, 365 days/year.
Needing to produce an actual essay without slang, text message talk, and audience aware. Wondering how this will happen when my reading list of late only includes transit schedules, take out menus, laundry soap bottles and grocery store circulars?
Where do all my book smarts get stored? Feeling smart isn't so useful when all those smarts go away for sake of catching up on some televised life.What would the Brady's do? Or a group of non musical Brady's? Or the Bundys? What do they do? Do they store book smarts? What about the engaging story chasers that feed me current events in the world of sports non stop? Do they produce anything or just read scripts, talk amongst themselves secretly about take out menus and laundry soap bottles? Well-cant blame them, they need something to tweet about too.
Thanks to our sponsors today- Sketches, General Electric, Direct TV, and Facebook for making this production next to impossible. Oh, the complexities that thrill me and make me believe I'm smarter than the average bear-putting or pouring more or less time and energy into mapping out the different inactive social networking sites that have become trashed or used improperly. Where do these silly Napoleon efforts-quilt together into something I could be proud of? Instead of pieces here and there...useful ins and outs that separate one place from another. Valuable deposits of my energy and personal thoughts. That don't leave me feeling stranded after investing into. My somewhat musical ramblings that don't fall into the category of one hit wonders. That doesn't wake me up unexpectedly as a warning of some sort, forcing my involuntary fight or flight reaction to engage. That doesn't cause me to dread my surroundings or become overly aware of the presence of the eyes in the back of my head.
I can't always be an inanimate object and can't expect the world around me not to feel confined by this thought bubble I live in and through. Watching him eat. Watching me blog. Feeling this hate space I occupy not knowing how to be seen and heard without you believing I'm an enemy. Televised life.
Watching you make your bed and feeling how ridiculously deep this insult has become. Shameless bed. Blameless frame. Weightless game. fame.