It Occurs To Me

That I may be perceived by my peers as being one --or both-- of the neurotic single friends of smug married Uber-Couple Michael and Hope Steadman on Thirtysomething. You remember Ellyn and Melanie, the "crazy makers" whom the Steadmans always rolled their eyes about as they had ad nauseam hearts-to-hearts like this behind the white picket fence:




And they found Ellyn and Melanie annoying? Please. Michael and Hope are the blecchy blecchy doo doo ones.

Pee Wee Herman+Christian Bale+ Latter Day Saints=WTF

That was admittedly a disturbing combination of television viewing I chose for myself tonight, kids. A seriously foul-mixing menu. I don't know, I'd say it tasted something like brushing your teeth with a minty paste or gel, chewin' on a hunk of beef jerky and washing it all down with a glass of hot grapefruit juice? I don't know. A "Wow! Ooooh! Gross!" sensation, if you will. A veritable Bleccchy Bleccchy Doo Doo. My grandfather used to eat salt on watermelon and sugar on tomatoes though, so I think the upshot of this post is: EVERYONE IS FRIGGIN' WEIRD.