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So I exercised my cool-ass civil duty today, and the whole time I waited in my 40-minute line (so yeah, vote early if you can, kids, I imagine next Tuesday may be craaaazy) I kept giggling thinking of Borat in this:
A second ago I was googling for a larger version of Bluto here
Man he was a creepy dude. I had him just long enough to be in the majority of the class who failed his first international phonetic alphabet exam (which I still contest was stupidly unfairly graded. I knew that thing backwards and forwards, so voiced bilabial stop this, buddy) and I remember the first thing that popped into my head when I heard the breaking news was not shock but total belief he could have done it. Is that wrong?
Anyway, I’m talking to you Kedzie J-schoolers, so contact your sources and let me know if you find anything, por favor.
This guy continues to be one of the most fun concerts EVAR. Thanks to J for going with me at the last minute, and sorry I missed you Jamie!
(Sorry for the shaky cam. It surely had nothing to do with the $10 beer.)
I am thisclose to getting possibly the last handful of tickets to the concert tomorrow night. Lovelovelove seeing him live. Cross your fingers.
So my friend Jenn sent me an article quoting Denis Leary’s ridiculous opinion about autism (along with an old one about Jenny McCarthy, but my views on that can easily be learned reading the archives), and was excited to think I had some choice words in response. And she’s not wrong. Two years ago I would have kicked some rhetorical ass ranting about it. Last year I would have at least attempted to denigrate him with a witty and acerbic barb.
But today I was just like.. eh, whatever, dumbass. Which honestly kind of surprised me at first. I mean, I may be exhausted, but my anger has reserves it can access pretty easily, and it’s not as if I care less about the subject – though in fairness, I’ll concede that some of the apathy could be that my autism advocacy has slipped in priority for myriad of reasons.
And I’m sure a large part is my general refusal to be goaded by assholes who are trying to create drama. I’ve never cared a whole lot either way for Leary (aside from his ode to the hyperlinked curse above, which I dig singing when appropriate), but I’ll gladly lump him in with those who think they can say whatever they want under the guise of pretending they don’t care about consequence. It’s actually one of the strongest traits I disrespect, and whatever, obviously Leary will earn some sort of consequence far more important to him than this random blogger’s venom.
Mostly, though, I think my reticence to care is based on my newest existential realization that there’s not a whole lot in life that really is as black and white as it seems, and because of that, I’ve been careful to not spout off as much, since I’ve learned firsthand just how easy it is to assume one knows all there is to know to make a judgment. So while I would be surprised if much/any/all of that quote could have been misconstrued or taken out of context (i.e., I probably have some valid fodder for being irate) the point here is that I’m learning to let some things go as not worth the emotional energy. Especially if my opinion would be empirically obvious, or better yet, wrong.
Ahhh, Maturity. You all here yet? I’m woefully behind, sister.
1. How this man did this. There is a video on CNN that has an interview with him, and he doesn’t seem to get why that would be ridiculous – outside of having gone behind his wife’s back. It leaves me speechless, honestly.
2. How illiteracy can travel all the way to print:
(A client’s label for my work – sorry it’s kind of blurry.)
3. Who called my cell phone three times in the middle of the night from a local hospital.. but didn’t leave a message. I have no friends or clients pregnant, and I’ve head-counted the people closest to me for injuries. It’s really frustrating to not know if something happened or if it was a wrong number.
4a. How the Ben Folds concert was originally $30 general admission, but has since gone up to $70. No one wants to go with me when it costs that much, and I can’t blame them.
4b. Why this cussing and epithet-filled song doesn’t offend me more. In fact I totally love it.
5. What in the hell this license plate of the owner of the company next to mine means: RGTRUDR
SO, if anyone has any ideas, you let me know, thanks!
Or: House-sitting for a family whose internet is broken.
Until I’m done, read this and start a debate! I expect profound comments when I get back, people. 😉
Because she’s quite possibly cute enough to charm anyone, and if nothing else, her language is unintelligible enough it could be considered a U.N. sort of blend.
(Pay no attention to her brother hollering in the other room. Apparently I was supposed to magically move all the bedding he had wedged behind the door.)
Seriously. This was one of the funniest clips I’ve ever seen from him.
(And when we laugh, EVERYTHING seems better, no?)
D’oh, I knew there was something I was forgetting!
I WAS FINALLY APPROVED TO START TEACHING BRADLEY!
Sorry! But I’ve been filing away things I wanted to share, so even if I’m copping out with all the links, my intentions are good (and totally random). That said:
1. This pretty much sums up my thoughts on the debate. And everyone should watch this at some point, because Tina Fey has officially creeped me out with the realism of her impersonation. I also like this and this and this and this.
(Thanks to my blogger friends and those who shared those with me.)
3. Driving downtown yesterday, Jack declared that we were in Nyun York City. God I love that kid. He also hit another milestone:
4. Finally, I give up, and fully admit that I am who this site is talking about. Pretty much always.