Random Randomness

Random Randomness

I had no idea eczema is so common in kids. All ya’ll have little scaly kids just like me! I LOVE IT! And you’re all so helpful with your wise wisdom of Eucerin, Aquaphor, Crisco, and molten lava. Look! Even Google is trying to help me out over there! Maybe ads really DO have a purpose. Maybe that makes up for the ad you may or may not have had to click on just to get through to this page! Gah, I know! I didn’t MEAN for that to happen; it just happened, because I let things just happen all the time because, if I shall be so honest, I have no idea what the hell I’m doing around here. And if it could happen to Amalah, Queen of Everything, then I don’t feel so bad about it happening to me. Except, I do feel bad because I feel bad for you. After all, you only wanted to get an update on Snake Boy – because it’s THAT exciting!- and then you get pummelled with a whole page ad. . I promise not to let it happen again. (More like I promise to pretend I’ll get smart and not let it happen again.)

I KNEW the Internet was being too nice to me, though. I KNEW it was just a matter of time before I got an email telling me to try actually BATHING my ugly kids once in a while and maybe Snake Boy wouldn’t be so snake like. To this, I say, bathing? What is this word you say, bathing? We don’t need no stinking bathing. We find comfort in the stenches of one another. So go away and take this strange word bathing with you; we have no use for it.

How was your Friday night? I bet it wasn’t NEARLY as exciting as MY Friday night! The Friday night I spent curled up on my couch with my laptop, watching the Olympic opening ceremonies. I know, I know, a responsible mother would never be so adventurous, so foolhardy! But they didn’t call me Devil-May-Care in school for nothing! Okay, you got me. They never called me Devil-May-Care (because who would make up such a stupid nickname?) in school , they called me DJ Tanner. Which is? NOT. FUNNY.

So, yeah, I watched the Italians light a bunch of shit on fire. Then Yoko Ono came out of nowhere to talk about peace which was totally appropriate, I thought, because when I think Olympics, I think Yoko Ono. But she didn’t even really talk because she still can’t speak English. I heard: “My husband, John Lennon” and “Peace”. WOW! She’s really updated her vocabulary in the past 30some years! Am I the only one a little perplexed at why she’s still got the broken english skills of Jackie Chan? In fact, Jackie Chan sounds like Winston Churchill in comparison. Maybe more like Pauly Shore.

Then they announced that Peter Gabriel was going to perform and I got all excited and hemmed up because squeeeeee! Peter Gabriel! So not worthy and all that. But then he comes out with his piano and a dew rag (ala Nelly) and sings Imagine in a way that could only be outshone by Ben Stein in concert. (Bueller?) And Imagine? Really? I mean, I get it and all: war going on, imagine all the people, oh bla di, oh bla dah… but how cheesey. And I couldn’t help but imagine a time when Peter Gabriel would have rather been set on fire than to sing a John Lennon song at the fucking Olympics. Now, YOU may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one.

Sorry about that. Talk about cheesey.

Mmmmmmm, cheese. Cheese sounds good. I’ve been on the Elimination Diet for… oh, 24 hours, and already and I think I might cower in the corner in the fetal position and cry. Do you KNOW how many Burger King commercials there were during the Olympics? (And is it just me, or is the Buger King himself truly frightening?) Do you KNOW how badly I want a bowl of Frosted Mini Wheats? (Tesco, you bastard!) Food, you are my bitch-whore-lover!

And seriously, I would tackle my Grandmother to the floor and give her the Atomic Elbow right now for a chocolate martini. I mean, if that was the deal that someone would be prepared to strike, not just because.

Yes, I’m aware that it’s not even noon yet.