Friday, May 19, 2006

Note To A Guilty Pleasure

Dear Brittney,

Leave the douchebag already. The kid is cute. Find him a new daddy with a stroller.


Tuesday, May 16, 2006

Stream of Blah BlahTotal Bullshit

I have been inundating myself with information lately. Most of it is garbage.
By most I mean, like, 98% of it.

Hi. My name is Jen.
I'm addicted to celebrity gossip.

It's true. I just cannot help myself.

I know more than any self-respecting human should about this whole TomKat/Suri/Bride of Scientology business. I have studied pictures of Bradgelina looking for even a remote crack in that facade of happy, golden couple. I even drove out to the house Vaughinston bought in the burbs.

I'm kidding about that last one. I don't have a driver's license.

My immense wealth of absolutely useless knowledge is not limited to American celebrities. Oh no. Do you know Jordan? No, not THAT Jordan. The famous Jordan. The British one, with the ginormous boobs? THAT Jordan. No? You don't know her? Well, neither do I. But I do know she has a huge rack. She is also married to some ridiculous Ken doll of a guy and one of her kids I'm not sure but the Brits sure do love Harvey.

Can someone tell me why?
NO! Don't tell me.
I don't want to know.
I don't need to know.
Really. I am better off not knowing. Maybe there is a chance I can fit something useful into my brain if I don't learn that fact.

I had a friend in Junior High with a theory that every time you sneeze you make room in your brain to learn something new. It seems really stupid but man, I sort of wish I could do that. I would force a couple of sneezes before a party and then cram in a pile of interesting, useful knowledge. Politics would be handy these days. Like a second language, political discourse requires homework and careful study. Because if you lose track of that conversation it is totally like taking those verbal exams where you're sweating in a chair across from the teacher. And she's speaking in French, REALLY FAST, and all you can do is quietly conjugate irregular verbs under your breath and pray (Notre Pere qui es au cieux/Que ton nom soit sancitfie)

And the thing about political discussions is that they aren't really discussions. Most of the time it seems as though it's each person, taking turns, trying to convince the other (or others) that their opinion is right. Or The Right.

Not THE Right...just in correct...but I was trying to put some reverential importance on it...with the capital...No? OK then, moving on.

Back to my problem.

It's not really my fault. I am not solely responsible for the paparazzi. Or for any of the ridiculous things celebrities are caught doing. (Kiefer, I am looking at you dude.) It is everywhere though. Everywhere. There are entire television channels dedicated to celebrity news. Why are celebrities news? Why do I care so much? And it's not so much that I care what they do or who they do it with or what they are wearing when they do it. The fact is I don't care. I don't care so much I have to go look at pictures of them to prove to them I don't care.

See, that doesn't even make sense. I am sick. It's an illness. I'm trying to rationalize my obsession with celebrity gossip. This is what it has come to. Gah.

Of course, if I were chipping out a meger living putting together a hot, celebrity blog or some dishy website I'd be very proud of myself right now. Alas, just a couple of steps behind the trend and the technology. I'm not jumping on that bandwagon now. The market, she is saturated. Unless I come up with something really cool, like this, I think it might be too late.

Not that I am giving up the whole Dream. I've still got The Dream. It's in here. I am just constantly needing to revise The Dream. Mackerel is now totally out of The Dream. Which is a shame.

No. Not really.

Thursday, May 04, 2006

25 Reasons Not To Be Thin

1. Fried dough, in all of its many guises.

2. Body Thetans.

3. Maintaining a constant level of moral outrage takes a lot of fuel.

4. They are closing the gym in the basement of my office building and expect me to walk EIGHT WHOLE BLOCKS to the closest Ballys.

5. Comfy new queen sized mattress.

6. Fear of death-by-car prevents bike riding or having moving parts strapped to my feet.

7. Scientific fascination with the chemical properties of the chocolate-peanut-butter compound.

8. Bacon.

9. Pizza.

10. Bacon on pizza.

11. Deep appreciation for the art of Peter Paul Rubens.

12. The only available lunch option that costs less than $5 is McDonalds.

13. No matter how hard I try, a piece of fruit just isn't dessert.

14. Sometimes I just can't get the Popeye's Chicken jingle out of my head.

15. My, boyfriend...favors a down home southern style of cooking. Who am I to argue?

16. I'm sold on the platform of "cheese makes everything better."

17. Weakness for pancakes.

18. 50 Cent wasn't around to care about childhood obesity when I was growing up.

19. Exercise at home proves difficult with only very heavy books to use as weights.

20. My clothes would look really silly on a skinny person.

21. Muffin tops are always the best part.

22. There's still 3/4 of a cheesecake in my freezer. Someone has to eat it.

23. Rolling the exercise ball at the cats is way more fun than doing sit-ups on it.

24. Fear of bird flu prevents me from eating light.

25. I'm afraid that if I don't do what he says the Burger King will show up in my bedroom.