2:51 p.m. - 2002-08-27
Tomorrow I start replacing windows like a mad man, and if I have my way everything will be made of glass before Iím done.
You know whatís swell? Having a girlfriend who not only appreciates a song made up for her that compiles all of the nicknames that I am not supposed to call her, but also sings the song herself and makes up a dance to go with it. Iím afraid that if we do have kids it will stall evolution even more than medical science.
My friend A-dog saw an episode of Maury Povich that had men trying to pass as women. It played a game where a few real women and one feller in drag sat on stage, and the at home and live studio audience contestants were charged with trying to find the gender imposter. It was all easy as pie until the last set in question included a boy who made a very pretty girl. A-dog was so fooled that it shook him to his core and had him doubting every female he knew for a few hours. Apparently girls get sick of having their necks felt for the tell tale adams apple in a hurry.
I wrote a grouchy flame style gbook entry to fadein regarding his displeasure with slang. I am not proud of the fact that I called him a dummy, but for chrissakes, when will us cracker ass honkies give it up? Slang is fun. If you enjoy speaking the English and such, you should give it a rest with the ďI canít believe how itís getting bastardizedĒ and realize that the language you call English is just a shit load of slang that bears very little resemblance to itís original roots.
I donít think that he really cares, and neither do I for that matter, but everything is going just fine for me right now and Iíll take any excuse to complain that comes my way.
If I were a contestant on American Idol, Iíd pick TLCís Waterfalls as my song of choice. Or the Eddie Murphy hit, My Girl Likes To Party All The Time. Or Ghost Busters.
That would prove once and for all that song choice isnít key.