Dear Internets, I am bored. Not that my boredom has led me to do anything productive, oh no. Quite the opposite. I have read a little, played some Nintendo, dicked around on The Internets, and watched half of the first season of How I Met Your Mother. Because I think, I think, it is the only DVD we have in the apartment that I have not already seen five times. I haven't even seen it one times! Well, I've seen some. But not all. Anyway. Not important.
Now, I'm not going to say anything crazy like How I Met Your Mother is better than The Office (because . . . PSHAW . . . seriously), but it is very, very funny. It may be the only comedy in the history of the world that both my father and I find funny, nay, HILARIOUS. I like The Office and Arrested Development. He likes Two and a Half Men and King of Queens. I don't dislike those shows . . . OK, yes I do. I'm just going to say it. I HATE TWO AND A HALF MEN. I hate it when people tell me I'm going to like it, I hate it when they say it's the funniest show on television, I hate it I hate it I hate it! I don't think that kid is funny! I think he sucks! He sucks! He sucks he sucks he sucks!
Wow, who knew I felt so strongly about that show? Even I didn't. Weird.
Now, obviously there are more productive things I could be doing than watching How I Met Your Mother and complaining about shows I hate. There are clean (I think) dishes in the dishwasher, I have laundry to do, my room is a mess, the living room has Nintendo paraphernalia all over it, I need to balance my checkbook, the trash needs taken out, I haven't checked the mail yet, etc. I thought about going to the pool but it's sort of cloudy so instead I just haven't left the apartment all day. Right now I'm sitting here in my gym clothes trying to shame myself into going. This happens every time I have to go to the gym. I know I'll go eventually, but I try to stretch the guilt process as long as possible. Also, I'm drinking a lot of water before I go because I feel it's important to be properly hydrated before almost killing myself on the elliptical. I just hope they're playing a good movie today. When we went on Thursday, they were showing The Green Mile. Now, that's not a bad movie. I think I actually own it (on VHS, OH SNAP!) but that is not a good movie to work out to. It may be one of the most depressing movies ever made which may explain why I was crying like a little bitch on the elliptical. OK, not really. I always cry on the elliptical but that's because the elliptical makes me want to curl up in the fetal position and never, ever get up.
You know what I just remembered? When I worked at the library in high school (nerd alert), I found this book in the children's section called You Make the Angels Cry. I swear. I could not make that up. See! Here it is. Told you. I wish you could see the cover. What the hell, though? Who writes a children's book called You Make the Angels Cry? Well, I mean, I might but that is why no one has asked me to write any books for children. YET.
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