The thing is, I’ve had this problem since I was a kid. I don’t know how it happened and I thought I had outgrown it, but in recent years it appears this affliction has not left me after all. It’s sad, because no one really understands it and when I tell people about it they think I’m a little weird. I’m actually not weird, by the way. It’s important you understand that before continuing. You must also understand that what I am about to reveal is not untrue.
Now…
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What I have to say is so incredibly awesome, it gets its own post. I generally don’t like to post stuff back-to-back because I have this fear that people will miss stuff. I know it’s not that serious, but I don’t trust people to scroll, ya know?
Onwards…
I received “The Rising Blogger, Post of the Day” award, you can see it proudly displayed on the “Awards” page. If you click it, you’ll see the post in which I am awarded. Feel free to drop some comments over there if you’re willing.
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I was eating some of those heart-shaped candies you get for Valentine’s Day, they’re harder than Adamantium but I like them. Anyway, I didn’t notice how interesting some of the messages on the hearts were until I was almost done with the bag.
At first, I wrote them off as stupid. But then I got to thinking, what if someone is trying to tell me something? What if some cosmic force was trying to communicate and the only way it could was through sweets? And how many of these confectionery “messages” did I miss by absentmindedly shoving them in my mouth? I got scared. What if, in some parallel universe, someone or thing was depending on the likes of me to somehow save the world?
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I’ll concede the title is a bit much.
Let’s move on…
A Valentine’s Day scribbling:
We’re young.
We spend our money on Wrestling Pay-Per-Views and DVD’s. We go to movies and text friends about them. We MySpace. We lie in bed all day putting off laundry and paying bills. We don’t open mail. We quit jobs because they suck while having nothing else lined up. We watch cartoons and complain about dialogue. We talk about our childhood like it’s so far behind us. We feel old sometimes, like we know it all.
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OK, so I watch a lot of reality TV. I’m sure at one point I’ve mentioned this.
Few things annoy me when it comes to this genre.
Everyone knows that calling it “reality TV” in the first place is a bit of a stretch. The Executive Producers, who I guess have some intrinsic understanding of what viewers want, make decisions accordingly. Sometimes people stay around longer than they should and baffle those of us at home. OK, I get it. I can deal. But I’ve been watching one show in particular that has me pissed:
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