So yesterday I decided that I was going to quit writing this blog. It's not you, it's me. I bore myself. I'm not dating a college mascot with some sort of exciting double-life (AKA---Boozie the autoerotic asphyxiating Aardvark). I don't go to glamourous parties with glamourous D-list celebrities and glamorous gold-plated toilet paper sqaures. Fancy-assed mofos can't spare a square. Nor do I engage in XTREME anything (base-jumping, hang-gliding, non-missionary position sex....for shame!). I don't have cool hair like Stefani or her feux-hawked hubbie. I'm not as mysterious as turkey-necked Alito. And to top it off, I'm beginning to run out of glib pseudo pop culture references! Wherefore art thou Paris Hilton? And why hast thou forsaken me by abstaining from sex videos and other debasing endeavors? Mount someone for chrissakes!
While I was pondering my "to blog or not to blog" dilemma, I ate 12 fruit roll ups (not an exaggeration people), and I realized that this blog was like my favorite saccharine treat: it makes me sick once in a while, but sometimes you just have to brush off the vomit and keep on eatin'. So I unbuttoned by pantsuit, unrolled a paper thin strawberry and promptly vomited. but after that I went straight to the blog! (NOTE: lick computer keys tomorrow for fruity remnants)..... (Also, get stomach stapling prochedure)