Random Monday

In CategoryNavel Gazing, Random Monday

I think we should all get together and decide how to spell Qadaffi. It annoyed me in the ’80s and it annoys me now.

 Our microwave will beep about once every two minutes after it’s done cooking. Here’s the thing, you stupid microwave – I’ll come in there when I’m damn good and ready, so shut the hell up already.

I watched part of the Country Music Awards last night against my will. I do not like country music, and the stuff I heard did nothing to change my mind. That Honeybee song by Blake Shelton was beyond insipid. 

“You be my glass of wine / I’ll be your shot of whiskey / You be my sunny day / I’ll be your shade tree / You be my honey suckle / I’ll be your honey bee”

Seriously? All he did was list a bunch of stuff and set it to music. I made several rude pairings and sang them to my husband. I thought I was hilarious, but he did not appreciate it. This happens a lot. However, I persevere.

I went to Sam’s Club and resisted the urge to buy giant bags of Easter chocolate or giant bags of potato chips or a giant box of ice cream. Now home, I stare into my cupboards forlorn and filled with regret.

• Sometimes I say stuff on Twitter and then when I go back and read it, I wonder if maybe I offended someone. I hate that dithering, self-doubt thing. If you’ve ever wondered if I was trying to be offensive – I wasn’t. Not only because I am Clearly So Swell (duh! winning!), but because if I am trying to be snarky and rude, there truly won’t be any doubt. I suck at hiding my intentional snark. Accidental snark should be interpreted only as Social Ineptness. I was homeschooled, you know.

• I got 500 hits last Thursday. That’s about a thousand times more than I usually get (okay, maybe not a thousand times more. leave me alone, we’ve only gotten to adding 9s over here). The Sir Ken video I posted a while back got some traction in a few corners of the internets. I lurked around in some of the chat sites, and was relieved there weren’t any “Can you BELIEVE she posted this? What a stupid cow!” conversations. On the other hand, none of the 500 people left me a comment, either. HEY NEW PEOPLE! THROW A GIRL A COMMENT! Maybe if I yell like that, they’ll hear me.