You know it's bad when I do not care if my socks match. The beige one on the right, there, is left over from when I had a giant polyp removed from my girly bits. It has that plastic tracking stuff on the bottom. The sock. Not my girly bits.
How attracted to me are you right now? Although I have to tell you, if you have some kind of fetish for Froggy from The Little Rascals? I am your gal today. I sound good. And feminine.
I did take time out from coughing to watch the ridiculous Golden Globes, and everyone needs to calm down. I thought Ricky Gervais was funny.
Also? I liked how they kept playing the same three notes of The Social Network theme song. How dramatic. I have decided to use The Social Network theme song to enhance all of my declarative sentences.
Okay, just play the first 21 seconds of it, until they get to those three piano notes, while you read the paragraph below.
I have a cold today, as I am the type of person who gets colds. I do not think it is the flu, as I had a flu shot this year. However, I am coughing. And I am also sniffling. I have taken Robitussin to alleviate my symptoms. I also put Vicks on. To make matters worse, I have a deadline on my statistics book. It's due today. I must read the last chapter. Then I must run the whole 39 chapters, individually, through spell check. Afterwards, I have to search for anomalies, such as words that are hyphenated that don't need to be. It will be an arduous task that must be done before 6 p.m.
Wasn't all of that mundane info 10 times more dramatic with those piano notes? I want three haunting piano notes ALL OF THE TIME.
Oh, and also, I would like an orchestra behind me to play out any of my friends who talk too long.
I have a friend, and I will not name names, who is the WORST STORYTELLER. This person always gives you way too much extraneous information, and does that horrid thing, "Wait, I should back up and tell you..."
Dear Bad Storytellers of the World: No one EVER wants you to back up and give more info.
The Bad Storytelling Friend also does my very very very least-favorite thing.
BAD STORYTELLER: So she said to me, do you know why I hate to wear red gloves? And I said, No, why?
Dear Bad Storytellers of the World: No one needs to hear that you said, "No, why?" It is not germane to the story. Just stampede to the part where the person hates to wear red gloves because they remind of her lobster claws.
For the record, I have never really heard a story about anyone hating to wear red gloves.
The point is, next time Bad Storytelling Friend starts of of those stories, after 15 seconds, Ima get this going:
"Oh, I'm sorry, BST, your time is up." clap clap clap. Commercial.
Am now waiting for every friend I have in real life to email me. "Am I the bad storyteller?" Except the actual Bad Storyteller will say, "Ohmygod, I was reading your blog? At work? Wait, let me back up..."
Anyway, that is all I have to say about the Golden Globes except that I continue to detest Angelina Jolie. She sucked all the life out of Brad Pitt. He is a shadow of himself. And would it KILL her to crack a SMILE? Also, who is convincing Annette Benning that that is a hep hairdo? It's like how my friend Libby and I used to style this really unpopular girl's hair in homeroom every morning? And we'd make it look super stupid just to make her life more miserable. And we'd say, "No! It's really cute!"
Wait, let me back up...