Old Guys and Chicken

I can't decide whether the Seven Nation Army video makes me want to fall asleep or throw up. In a good way, though. Because Jack White is a sexy bitch. We've covered this already, have we not? I do know that this Marilyn Manson video will NOT put me to sleep, and I wish the All-American Rejects would come back, because Tyson Ritter touches that small but ever-present Ashton-Kutcher-loving part of me. Why are the scary man and his elephants and transvestites still on?

All Things Rock? Bite me.

I went to a wedding the night before last. I thought of David Boreanaz's fear of flappy fish and chickens as the bridesmaids were walking down the aisle, and cracked up. My mother was not pleased. Then I thought of something I had read about Jack, and his word-that-can-mean-rooster, and the combination of that and Boreanaz's phobia of fowl made me laugh again. My mother was especially displeased. It was a very pretty wedding, but please remind me, should I ever get married, not to have one of my friends sing a sappy love song. No matter how good their voice is. It's just cringe-worthy.

They say that if you put a piece of wedding cake under your pillow, you'll dream of your future husband. Do you think that will work two days after the wedding? It's kind of...gross. And stale. And I'm not sure I want to dream of my future husband anyway, because what if my subconscious decides to be mean and shows him all fat and old, drinking beer in his underwear or fishing or...or yelling at kids to get off his lawn? I don't want to see that. Of course, I sincerely hope that my future husband will not be the beer and fishing type. I'd much prefer the variety of old man that everyone is scared of, because he's eccentric and artsy and has lots of cats. And the kids tell stories about how if you go near his house, the giant mutant Venus flytrap in his kitchen window gobbles you up and spits you out in his laboratory, where he turns you into a teapot or a snowglobe, or a platter of fishcakes for his cats, and I really shouldn't update at four in the morning, I'm really tired you guys. Run-on sentences are fun.

FIRE IN THE DISCO! FIRE IN THE...TACO BELL!

2003-07-01 @ 3:43 a.m.

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