Monday, March 23, 2009

Reiteration, Mostly.

I made it home early tonight and hit the small grocery down the block to pick up some essentials. I've decided I'm not eating bread this week, so I made sure to buy some salad essentials, a carton of milk, and a jar of my cinnamon raisin peanut butter. I'm pretty sure that the pb negates the lack of bread, but life is about negotiation and compromise, right? Anywho, I've just seated myself on the couch for a little r&r, pulled out a big ol' spoon, poured a glass of milk, and dug into the peanut butter (just in case you doubted my habits), and I can't find any raisins. This is not a catastrophe because I've promised myself to put the jar away after just a few spoonfuls (which is looking like quite a few spoonfuls). But a bigger problem has arisen. It is 11 pm and "Two and A Half Men" is on. I know this blog is supposed to be about what I like...but I feel it necessary to stray off topic to discuss my disdain for "Two and A Half Men". It should be noted that I've never watched an episode, however, the last 30 seconds before "Friends" starts leaves me with a similar feeling to that of eating a whole jar of peanut butter, minus the deliciousness...just the desire to vomit. AND when I don't think it can get any worse, that song comes on: "men, men, men, men, men, men, men, men, men, men, men, men, men, men, men, men, men, manly men, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo...meeeeeennnnn". It's like they threw this show together at the end of a four day bender on the plane back from cabo and asked the perky flight attendant what a show called "Two and A Half Men" should have as its theme song and she started singing "men, men, men, men..." I won't continue, it's giving me a migraine. I haven't figured out why the network picked it up yet though...maybe one of the buffoons was sleeping with a network exec and she okay-ed it to get out of fellating him least until he got tested.
I changed the channel and watched "Seinfeld". 
I've recently discovered The Daily Intel (NY Magazine Blog), and while I must say that I'm not really a huge fan of reading all sorts of internet blogging crap (but you should probably keep reading this...just kidding, no one is reading this except me. Over and over again. Marveling in my own genius.) I find that The Daily Intel has some seriously good features. Mostly just the one where once a week I get to read about slutty New Yorkers sexing it up all over town (and out of town). My favorite was The Recent College Grad Who'd Never Been In A Relationship, but this week the entries bored me The TV Producer Who Knew Everyone seemed predictable. However, what I wanted to point out was the comment section, where "GirlMonday" wrote "Very New York, and just goes to show that brunch is indeed the new Saturday night." I hate to say "I told you so", but I told you!! This TV producer had hot sex with a British guy she met at brunch...I love brunch! (And British guys...but that is a whole different topic, for a whole different day).
Summary: Tonight I ate peanut butter and someone else thinks brunch is fun. 
PS: This photo is what I look like eating peanut butter on the couch, obviously.

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