I'm so over it.

Los Angeles, I am so over your weather. Give me variety, give me rain, give me anything but tepid blue skies and dry heat.

carrot sticks

Sometimes, I throw some carrot sticks into my lunch. But then, while I work/think about food, I get unbearably depressed about how I will eventually have to eat carrot sticks. Even though I like carrots. There's just something a little depressing about them, especially when snacked upon in a cubicle.

Me? Simulated? Hmm.

I am probably like, the 50 millionth blogger to talk about this NY Times article in which some guy with a "Dr." preceding his name states that “there’s a 20 percent chance we’re living in a computer simulation.”
It says some other stuff, too, fascinating, really, and I'm possibly misunderstanding the whole thing. Still, if we are in fact an elaborate simulation by some sort of post-human, one has to wonder why they are so obsessed with Paris Hilton. It is somewhat comforting to think that it is actually some future mind that is getting stupider, not us. I wonder if they thought it was hilarious to give the 2000 election to Bush. I wonder if they are going to get tired of playing with the US and will focus their energies on Eritrea or Kyrgyzstan, those easily ignored nations.
Also, I wonder if I started sporting a "I'd like my ass to be better defined" on the back of my t-shirt if my ass would be suddenly more rounded, or if I would instead be struck with a desire to do lunges.

oh, to the poorhouse

My 403(b) has LOST 17¢. I can't believe it. My heart is broken. I have been robbed. Fuck you, Cheney.

ties and true love...

I love my boyfriend, Bill, very much. It is with great sadness I must report to you that he does not really know how to tie a tie. I accept this as further evidence to his great manliness. He will, no doubt, accuse me of trying to emasculate him on my blog. This is false. If I wanted to do that, I would talk about his lengthy, sissy-girl showers. No, instead, I tell you about how his uber-manliness unfortunately does not allow his fingers to tie fine knots.
Alas, last night Bill needed to wear his (1) tie with his (1) suit. And, because he does not own a bolo tie (much to his sadness), he had to tie the tie. Thank god for the internet.
For your amusement, I offer you... Bill!