(Bob as Woodycooks, shaking the crime stick.)
Subtitle: Big Beak O'Riley and Jimmy the Penguin
I watched Glorious the other day whilst off on the break for New Year's and I have laughed my ass off. I went yesterday and had my face half burned off in prep for the next round of travelling. (As I have said before: I Simon Cowell myself.) One needs to have a smooth canvas before globetrotting and stylin' in another city. At least they shall be spared the sight of half my face peeling off, LOL. This is the highly non-sexy time before the super sexy time begins. It's like how I didn't want to meet Roger Moore with a face of acne. I think it's stupid to still be worried with acne at age 28. One expects that to cease after the teen years are over. Sadly, the skin has a mind of its own sometimes. You just have to eradicate it to keep the so fresh and so clean gig going.
It is damn near 80 degrees right now if you can believe it. It's January and I have the ceiling fan running to keep from roasting alive. These miscreants who live next door finally decided to take all of their obnoxious Clark Griswold-style Xmas decor down today. And when they did, they threw their brokedown dying Christmas tree into my yard. I went out to get the mail with this burned up face and I took one look at that tree and gave an obvious lip-snarl of contempt. Not even five minutes later, they hauled their fat asses out there and picked it up. Honestly. What makes people think they can throw their shit onto your property without consequence? I also noticed today that one of them has gotten a crooked, back-alley scratcher style tattoo. That house truly has a magnet for oddballs. Woodycooks needs to shake the crime stick at them.
Stream of consciousness moment: I just turned on the weather. We set a record high today and I noticed that in Wichita, it's 28 with snow and ice. Apparently it's supposed to be in the 20s here tonight. No fucking wonder everyone has sinus and allergy problems here. That's not normal. My nose has started pouring and now I know why. It senses what is yet to come!
I was talking to my parents yesterday because someone in our family is trying really hard to cultivate a Russell Crowe look. And is failing, I might add. My mom says, "I don't even like Russell Crowe but he (the guy attempting the RC look) doesn't even look as good as Russell Crowe's back." So I had to take it another level and say, "He doesn't even look as good as Russell Crowe's ass after he's had a round of diarrhea." I asked my mom why she doesn't like RC and she says, "Well. He looks to me like a hothead, a drinker and someone who could be easily prompted to violence if he got mad." I laughed and was like, "And the problem is?" I also called him a big firey bear of a man. I love Aries men though. 'Tis a true fault of mine. I still remember the infamous telephone beatdown. Frankly I want a man who is so excited to talk to me that he will beat someone down with a phone if that's what it takes to get to me. Apparently not every female is a fan of that super Alpha Male mentality.
Ugh. I better go re-apply another 10 gallons of moisturizer now. I looked like Gorbechev last night. At least now it has faded to a sunburn/windburn color and not port wine stains.
