Friday, December 31, 2004
Oh, the Iran-y.
I usually don't talk politics because I'm unqualified. But so are a lot of the people in powerful government positions, it seems. So why not, I just had to say:
Isn't it neato that as far as peace and rebuilding goes, we're only pledging $35 million to help out with an earth-splitting tsunami disaster?* I know we're broke and all, but I just don't know why we don't promise to give 1.2 billion-zillion dollars because we're just gonna charge to our giant credit card anyway. Sure, we've been running up a few, hefty bills for those "weekend world improvement projects" lately so...uhm...
But hey, give us a break, we can't even afford armor for those tanks spreading the peace butter in the middle east. (But we could always use some burn cream.)
Even though we have 2.3 billion-zillion SUVs driven all too often by midget yoga moms who instead of buying the little yellow "We support our troops" ribbon magnets for their giant Canyoneros, should donate their tanks to the cause. Any cause.
But they can't help it, they need those Canyoneros because trust me, you should see the size of their kids. I mean, these kids are double-whipped, double-chocolate-dipped pudding pies with gameboy hand-implants and dvd players swinging from the ceilings designed to stopper their baby pieholes and distract them from all the McDonald's whizzing by. I'm just sayin', wow. That's why I don't talk politics.
Ohhhmm-mmmm...I apologize, and for more than just myself. And that's what I get for watching CNN International before coffee in the morning.
Ok, enough of me being heavy and uncool and realistic. However, if you can and want to relate, I have a t-shirt for you from dieselsweeties.com (thank u for the link, Nor-tron 2005).
Oh you know me, though, I'd rather have the monkey shirt anyway! That's how far my trees-for-the-forest political interest goes. See how easily distracted I am from the truth? It's the only defense-mechanism I have. Isn't it sparkly?
There is an upside to this product.
Fat Girl Slim: The more you use, the less you'd have to buy. In theory.
We're about to enter my favorite time of year -- the New Year and its resolutions. And then Valentine's Day to blow most of the resolutions actually kept. I like starting over. BOY do I like starting over. Over and over and over. It's the "No, really" time of year. The "this time, I mean it" day or so.
New Year's Day is kinda like the Wednesday after Mardi Gras (or Fat Tuesday which is what I like to call it). Because the best thing about being human is the worst thing about being human, being self-aware and being shamed by it. Isn't that just beautiful? You have to convince yourself as I have that it really is beautiful, or you might just turn into a complete hermit. Boy. If I could be a hermit. I'd be the best hermit in the world. I'd clean the house inside and out with a Q-Tip and all natural cleansers, grow the most coveted Yarden in my gumdrop neighborhood, and the dog's toenails would be perfect -- not too long, not too short, and Dremeled around the edges so they won't scratch the floor I just buffed to a glossy shine. My God. I need to get out more if that is my idea of the perfect hermit's life. Someone, please help me.
Oh, I kid. I kid because I love. Anyway, there is a GIANT part of me that would love to stay at home and just basically run that tiny beatch like a Navy ship, and of course create wonderful little things on the side (not kids, unless the price was right) to sell that would make all the world ( if not a better place then) a happier place, and the heavens would split into a million perfect diamonds, and all the little pink unicorns would dance in circles til they fell down a hill and laughed.
What's my point: We work too hard. What are you doin' reading this? Go home! Get to a party! And I sincerely hope you have a very happy and wonderful new year and toast one 40 oz. up to God for world peace, and for babydoll blue monkey t-shirts while you're at it. See you in 2005 -- lurve -- Bny
Hey, in the time it took to work a halfday, we upped our pledge. Apparently, someone left off a zero. Yes, that's what happened. That's exactly how it happened. No, really.