Is it PMS? It must be. What else can explain my desire to throw scissors at people today? To eat my body weight in queso dip? To decapitate Barbie dolls?
My mind is wrapped around a billion things and yet all I can focus on is how unfortunate it is that Ross and Rachel never really worked things out and how I fear that Jim and Pam are going to play out in the same, fingernail-on-the-chalkboard fashion. I CAN’T TAKE YOU TOYING WITH ME, NBC!
Now that I’ve started, let’s get a few things off my chest:
To Rosie O’Donnell: Shut up. You are constantly talking on top of everyone. Stop it.
To Half.com: Put your stinking phone number on your website, you wussies. It’s almost like you don’t want people to be able to reach you to complain about their merchandise they never received!!!
To the Salt Lake County morning commuters: Gas is on the right, brake is on the left. Stop leaving giant gaps of space in between the cars. AM I THE ONLY ONE IN A HURRY?
To my computer: Stop doing that thing where you freeze up after three weeks with no reboot, you big piece of crap.
To George W. Bush: It’s NEW-KLEE-ARE. NEW-KLEE-ARE, dammit!
To the makers of Skinny Jeans: I hate you. May your anorexic thighs rot until you bring back the flare.
Okay, that’s probably enough for now. If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know.
