Just one hit, then I gotta go…
I have just a few things that I want to touch on and then the baby and I have some toys we have to throw on the floor.
I forgot to give a review of last week's Nonfiction 2 class. Overall, pretty good. The classes are getting shorter and tonight is the last one. We're all going to read a short selection of one of our pieces. I suck at public speaking.
Anyway, the Girl Who I Don't Particularly Like redeemed herself to me last week. Well, not totally; she's still a racist and kind of annoying but listen to this: I was having some mysterious knee pain and the people sitting around me knew this because I exclaimed, “I'm having some mysterious knee pain!” and rubbed the afflicted joint. GWIDPL jumped up, placed my leg on a chair and began to massage my knee. “A little something I picked up in Australia,” she explained. Um, okay. Aboriginal massage techniques? Who knows. It was very nice of her and it did make my knee feel a little better. Once we broke off into our small workshop groups, I stated that I needed help with mine. During the workshop and after listening to my tales of pseudo-erotic Christian music, GWIDPL mumbled, “I'm glad I'm a Jew.” Ha!
Saturday Night Live absolutely sucked this past week. Ray Romano was getting on my last nerve and I was highly offended when he told a joke during his opening monologue that I had heard him tell on Dr. Katz and on one other occasion (I can't remember when that was). Of course, it's unfortunate that I've watched Comedy Central so much that I actually have jokes stored of a comedian I don't even really like.
The only skit of SNL that I really remember amusing me was the Wake Up Wakefield, junior high TV show. Maya Rudolph and Rachel Dratch kill me. But even that skit has done better in the past. I think the funniest part about it is Rachel Dratch's necktie/Polo shirt combo and how frighteningly realistic she looks as a 12-year-old boy. Zwan was the musical and guest and…oh…fucking…whatever. I don't really care. I kind of want to kick Billy Corgan in the face for no particular reason. And pseudo-D'arcy needs to go somewhere and hide. During most of the episode I read that crappy Parents magazine and got a stiffie while looking at an ad for a Jell-O no-bake dessert. Come to me, my sweet.
Yesterday I spent an hour or so with the gal from the PAAI in an attempt to re-revise my profile of her for a better grade. All of my motivation has been sucked out of me, though. My re-revision was shoddy. Oh well.
I think I did about 20 loads of laundry yesterday.
Last night I decided to watch Swingers and when that was over I didn't feel like going to sleep or reading. I watched some COPS which has got to be the most boring show ever. Reason #6,98098980089 why cops make themselves look like jackasses: “The suspect is naked so obviously he's under the influence of PCP or crank.” What kind of logic is that? I mean, alright, in this case it turned out to be true. But since when does nudity = PCP?
Alright, must dash.
Later.
