Sunday, January 02, 2005

It's All About Me!

On my secret squirrel blog (you want the addy, email me) I declared 2005 would be the year of me. This is the only resolution I am making this year. Proving that GTMA The Zero Boss has declared the same thing.

I decided to start early, and put the brakes on any thought of me working over the holiday season. I took the full 9 days off, much to the chargin of my inferiors Opps I meant superiors at work.

Well, it's really hard to start out with this being all about me when the last two days of my vacation heavily rely on a 20 year old with a low rider. Everyone else I know is going to New Year's parties, and that is the last thing I want to do after Friday night. That, and I hate going to parties and getting stuck, only to leave when the person you went with says they're ready. Bletch.

Being a holiday weekend, I couldn't get my SUV in anywhere. I called, I begged, I pleaded. Why the hell are they called answering machines when they don't answer back??

So I'm stuck. Yesterday I took down the Christmas decorations. That took all of a half hour considering the cats used the tree for a jungle gym and slowly but surely would knock each ornament off.

I'm bored bored bored bored bored. I caught up on my pop culture illiteracy watching E! and Vh1. The world truly is going to hell, isn't it?

Then I read some blogs, and I found this interesting post over at Rance's blog. In a nutshell it's about how The Apocalypse is coming because Martha Stewart lost a decorating contest to fellow jailers.

Dude, that is the funniest shit I've read in a long time. Martha Stewart lost a decorating contest to fellow jailers. I have to say it one more time. Martha Stewart lost a decorating contest to fellow jailers.

Ok, I'm done now.

Here was my comment on this post:

Oh you know Martha will come back. American people just loves to knock celebrities off their pedestal, teach them a lesson in humility, and then build them back up.

That is, unless you are a child star. Then your F*cked.

Even though I think Martha is the Anti-Christ, I do have to give her props for giving me one of my

favorite. come-backs. ever.

Nephew: "Aunt Kelly, what's for dinner?"

Me: "What do I look like, Martha freakin' Stewart?"

There is another sign you might have missed RDD. Vince Neil, of legendary Motley Crue fame, is doing an "Extreme Makeover" deal for VH1.

Vince Neil, for f*ck's sake! The drinking, drugging, womanizing front man from the 80's is having an Extreme Makeover???

There are three possible reasons for why this disturbs me so greatly:

1. It is a sign of the Apocalypse.

2. I'm in a parallel universe.

3. I'm totally stuck in the 80's, trying desperately to cling to my youth.

I'm really, really hoping it is not #3.

That is all.

I learned about this Vince Neil Extreme Makeover Extravaganza on Vh1. Am I not the only one who is disturbed by this? Ok, so the Martha thing is funny as hell, and I'm hoping that maybe they'll have like an Ex-Con Living show out of it. But Vince Neil? Vince Neil, the golden boy of heavy metal, getting an extreme makeover???

This is scary shit my friends.

My taste in music was always a bit more advanced then my age since my brother was 4 years older then me. I worshipped KISS at 4 years old. I learned about motley Crue when I was probably like 11, and I've hearted them ever since.

They were rebellious hell raisers that didn't give a shit about what society thought. My brother and I were pretty much given free reign when it came to music, as my parent's didn't want to "censor" our "creative outlets". Having tree hugger parents come in handy every once in awhile.

That, and we were real careful not to play "Shout at the Devil" where they could hear it. It didn't matter though, because I'm pretty sure they had fine tuned their songs to where no one over 21 could understand what they were saying.

"What did he just say?" my Dad would always ask. "Ten seconds to go" I'd reply with a couple of innocent blinks of the big brown eyes, instead of the real lyrics, Ten seconds to love. My Dad would just shake his head, probably feeling old and remembering when his parents told him Elvis was Satan.

So why does this scare me so bad my friends? If someone that basically has always given a big fuck you to society is worried and getting an extreme makeover, what the hell is next?

My curiosity and boredom got the better of me, and I watched the show. At least he didn't get botox. I watched in horror as his face was sliced and diced.

My God how could people get that stuff done after seeing what they do to you?? Maybe I'll feel differently once I start getting a little wrinkle here, a little sag there, but as of right now, there's no fucking way!

So like Rubber Duckie over at Rance's, I'm convinced The Apocalypse is coming.

Great. Fucking great. Just when I decide to make 2005 The Year About Me The fucking Apocalypse has to happen...

Did you know you could vote for me once a day?:Snarkiest Blog I'll probably get bored posting this little line, so just try to remember

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