Itchy Eyes

Blogger blogger blogger

Can't you see

Sometimes you really

Irritate me

 

(sung to the tune of "Biggie Biggie Biggie Can't You See") (um, by, B.I.G.?) (See previous post re: bad music taste)

 

I used to be Da Bomb at the internet.  I could HTML up my own website and all.  This was before the second wave of internetism.  Before blogs were a dime a dozen, or a dime a hundred.  Now, I can't even post from email or figure out how to get my flickr/twitter on the site.  Woes.

 

Anyway, I forgot that blogging can sometimes be fun, I mos. def. love reading them, and sometimes it's fun to write them as well.  As such, here I am watching a 3rd overtime in the Stanley Cup finals game, half-blogging, half-watching tv.  I'm from Detroit, I'm, like, obliged to watch this.  Kind of like how I'm obliged to state my loyalty to either MSU or UM, or drive a Ford, or talk about the shitty unemployment rates.  Woes.

 

Anyway, I'm not sure why, but at the ripe old age of 26 I've learned I have raging allergies.  Self-diagnosed, of course, but still.  There have been many of the sneezing incidents at work, with various fun snacks (apples, baked doritos (wow, so healthy!), egg salad sandwich - how graceful) and lots of the red-eye, "I swear I'm not a pothead" looks on a fresh Monday morning, and lots of itchy nose ("I swear I'm not a cokehead!").

 

Another thing?  So I love Madonna, and I got a total kick out of this handwritten note on display at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame that she wrote as a college freshman at U of M.  Almost any girl who grew up in the 80s has a place in her heart for Madonna, but seriously... how on earth does she look like that at 50?   I can't put my finger on it, but she reminds me of the kind of slutty girls I hate when I go out... I don't like that!  It's MADONNA.  Maybe I'm just a granny.

 

I have no witty or full-circle way to end this post... so here it shall end.  I just farted.