Random Thoughts, Per Usual

I used to think my sense of humor was more like that of my father, but lately, I’ve realized it’s actually more like my mother’s. For example, the other day, we were all talking about something, I forget what, but it was mildly serious, and my dad said something like ‘Someone should do something about that’ and my mom, having not contributed anything to the conversation thus far, goes, ‘Something like… THIS?’ And then she farted.

There is a goldendoodle puppy on my block who is the cutest dog I have ever seen. Half of it is probably because the word ‘goldendoodle’ is awesome. Nevertheless, he is adorable, and I think I might have to steal him. I’m glad my dog can’t read because then she would be jealous… Well, I guess even if she COULD read, she still wouldn’t be able to use her clumsy paws to type in web addresses on the computer. (Yes, because LACK OF MANUAL DEXTERITY is the flaw in that logic there. Good lord.)

I used to think ‘teepeeing’ a house or yard had something to do with Native American (American Indian? Indigenous people’s? As soon as I find out what the new politically correct term is, it is deemed culturally insensitive and replaced by another, subjectively more considerate but also inevitably more vague term. Hey assholes, maybe if you didn’t rape and pillage an entire continent of darkly-complexioned peoples, you wouldn’t have to constantly make up new words with which to refer to said peoples in order to compensate for your feelings of guilt. Anyway… was I in the middle of a sentence?) teepees, but then I realized that it’s not ‘teepeeing’ but ‘TP-ing’ as in ‘toilet paper-ing’. I can be learn things good.

My coccyx is still sore from snowboarding, from which I returned almost a week ago. I tell you, you want to be humbled, try snowboarding. I thought my vast experience of one previous day of snowboarding ten years ago plus my occasional skateboarding in the bike lanes of city streets during the summer plus my affinity for dirty white boys would make me some sort of expert snowboarder. Well. It… didn’t. Seriously, my ass was raw. (Part of that might have been from the gangbang, but that’s neither here nor there.)

As I type this, I am drinking leftover New Year’s champagne from the bottle, a good example of how one can be simultaneously classy (drinking CHAMPAGNE while blogging), drunk (DRINKING champagne while blogging), and nerdy (drinking champagne while BLOGGING). Actually, strike classy, since it is not actually champagne, it is $6 sparkling white wine from Trader Joe’s, and I re-corked it, which apparently you are not supposed to do.

Hey, Hercules and Love Affair is just Antony and the Johnsons minus the Johnsons plus some electronica beats! I feel hoodwinked.

2009 seems okay so far. Unless you live in Gaza, I guess. Doesn’t ‘Gaza strip’ sound like something you’d ask for when getting a wax?

Anyway, bye.