You think we're dancing? ... That's all we've ever done.

 

older/gbook/>>(in case of__)__//before&after ___my youtube__...
My novel 2004.. My novel 2006.. My novel 2008..

(diaryland) June 7, 2001 - 6:18 p.m.

Well, now I�ve realised I was wrong. I just have a general problem with people telling me which celebrities they find attractive. I have a problem when my Grandma tells me about how suave Sean Connery really is. I have a problem when Rosie makes slurping noises when David Boreanez whips his shirt off. I have a problem when my sister Lisa tells me she finds Trent Reznor attractive. I have problems with these things. I have problems.

What do you say? Perhaps you are watching telly.

Your friend says �I find So-and-So really hot.�

What are you supposed to say after that? Huh? Usually I go for the Uncomfortable Silence option. But sometimes I go for the �Uh-huh� option, which is slightly more friendly, though can come off annoying-sounding by accident. But what am I really supposed to say?

�I agree/disagree� is lame. Plus I don�t particularly want people to know half the time anyway. I think it should mostly be a personal thing.

�I thought _____ is cuter.� Again, too lame. Again, too revealing of personal tastes. I probably thought everyone was festy anyway.

I simply can't comment. I can't get involved in a discussion about who you thought was cute. Because there is nothing to say. You should be talking about the storyline anyway. Not that I ever watch things with storylines.

Of course the love interest is going to be cute. That is part of their function. Of course the hero is going to be cute and/or muscly. That is part of their function.

Dude. I just cannot share. I do not know how.

If anyone knows of a movie that contains only incredibly hideous people, please let me know (Todd Browning�s Freaks is not included). There should be some around. It would be cool to make a collection.

I�m overly mad right now because my boss threw out an important piece of paper that he thought was rubbish which I really need right now. He thinks everything of mine is rubbish. And somehow, right now, the �cello music he put on feels like a cheese-grater grating my brain into tiny chunks of ready-to-receive-insult mush.

I get six bucks an hour now.

Below is a drawing of what I see 90% of the time I'm at work.




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