Today I’m going to start actively pursuing some of the health goals on my 101 Things list. I’ll be counting calories for 30 days, eliminating soda from my diet for six full months, and eliminating fried foods from my diet for six full months.
Time to box up the fry daddy and say goodbye to my lovely lady, diet coke!
I’ve begun posting some restaurant reviews to Yelp; you can read them here. I have the best of intentions and plan to continue writing reviews; we all know that I’ll stick with this for a few weeks and then guiltily quit. Get ‘em while they’re hot!
If you’re not reading Season 8 of Buffy in comic form, you should be. You’ll gain even more respect for Faith and Giles and you’ll want to hug your old pal Joss Whedon.
Whedon talks about the next couple of issues in this interview with MTV (full of spoilers!).
I know you have underwear up your ass right now, but it beats the hell out of a shattered skull. Think about it! -Sparky Polastri
For those of you who want to watch Bring it On but, no matter how hard you looked, can’t find your copy (even though you once had copies on both VHS and DVD), you can watch it on Hulu. Unless, like SupaDupaFlyGirl, you’re boycotting Kirsten Dunst:
What you gon’ do with all that junk?
All that junk inside your trunk?
I’ma get, get, get, get, you drunk,
Get you love drunk off my hump.
My hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump,
My hump, my hump, my hump, my lovely little lumps (Check it out)
I drive these brothers crazy,
I do it on the daily,
They treat me really nicely,
They buy me all these ices.
Dolce & Gabbana,
Fendi and NaDonna
Karan, they be sharin’
All their money got me wearin’ fly
Brother I ain’t askin,
They say they love my ass ‘n,
Seven Jeans, True Religion’s,
I say no, but they keep givin’
So I keep on takin’
And no I ain’t taken
We can keep on datin’
I keep on demonstrating.
My love (love), my love, my love, my love (love)
You love my lady lumps (love),
My hump, my hump, my hump (love),
My humps they got you,
She’s got me spending.
(Oh) Spendin’ all your money on me and spending time on me.
She’s got me spendin’.
(Oh) Spendin’ all your money on me, up on me, on me
What you gon’ do with all that junk?
All that junk inside that trunk?
I’ma get, get, get, get, you drunk,
Get you love drunk off my hump.
What you gon’ do with all that ass?
All that ass inside them jeans?
I’m a make, make, make, make you scream
Make you scream, make you scream.
Cos of my hump (ha), my hump, my hump, my hump (what).
My hump, my hump, my hump (ha), my lovely lady lumps (Check it out)
I met a girl down at the disco.
She said hey, hey, hey yea let’s go.
I could be your baby, you can be my honey
Let’s spend time not money.
I mix your milk wit my cocoa puff,
Milky, milky cocoa,
Mix your milk with my cocoa puff, milky, milky riiiiiiight.
They say I’m really sexy,
The boys they wanna sex me.
They always standing next to me,
Always dancing next to me,
Tryin’ a feel my hump, hump.
Lookin’ at my lump, lump.
You can look but you can’t touch it,
If you touch it I’ma start some drama,
You don’t want no drama,
No, no drama, no, no, no, no drama
So don’t pull on my hand boy,
You ain’t my man, boy,
I’m just tryn’a dance boy,
And move my hump.
My hump, my hump, my hump, my hump,
My hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump.
My lovely lady lumps (lumps)
My lovely lady lumps (lumps)
My lovely lady lumps (lumps)
In the back and in the front (lumps)
My lovin’ got you,
She’s got me spendin’.
(Oh) Spendin’ all your money on me and spending time on me.
She’s got me spendin’.
(Oh) Spendin’ all your money on me, up on me, on me.
What you gon’ do with all that junk?
All that junk inside that trunk?
I’ma get, get, get, get you drunk,
Get you love drunk off my hump.
What you gon’ do with all that ass?
All that ass inside them jeans?
I’ma make, make, make, make you scream
Make you scream, make you scream.
What you gon’ do with all that junk?
All that junk inside that trunk?
I’ma get, get, get, get you drunk,
Get you love drunk off this hump.
What you gon’ do wit all that breast?
All that breast inside that shirt?
I’ma make, make, make, make you work
Make you work, work, make you work.
(A-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha) [x4]
She’s got me spendin’.
(Oh) Spendin’ all your money on me and spendin’ time on me
She’s got me spendin’.
(Oh) Spendin’ all your money on me, up on me, on me.
I’m all alone until Wednesday afternoon and plan on mulling over the following:
Why is Kirkman’s “The Walking Dead” so damn good? I’m reading it in trades and am about to crack open volume 7. I’m no Evil Bender when it comes to my zombie preparation, but I’d like to think reading Kirkman has helped hone my survival skills.
Why do I use words I despise? I can’t stand ‘hone.’ Also, I’m not a big fan of ‘despise.’
Should I start writing again? Should I take it seriously this time? I’ve been fairly interested in journalism these past few months. Did I pursue the wrong writing degree? That questions assumes there is a ‘right’ writing degree.
Why can’t Andi Smith catch a break on Last Comic Standing?
I must have fallen out of the graces of my old MA/MFA friends because nobody told me that GM published an article about treadmill journaling. Note to self - be better about KIT. But then again, maybe my old MA/MFA friends like me after all…no one told me that DD was proposing a radio project on Pete Seeger and no suggested i join him as a research assistant.
Life is less lonely when you’re playing a good, story-driven video game. I recently finished GTA4 and genuinely miss Niko, Kate, Dwayne, and Brucie. I’m playing Assassin’s Creed and feel no attachment to the characters.
Why was I annoyed by Veronica Bellmont a year ago? Why am I a fan now?