Okay. Look, weather. Stop.
It's been pouring for about two weeks now. While that does make for some fun late-night jogging, what with all the stomping in the deep, deep puddles that are too wide to hurdle over, it's disgusting. Ugliest. May. Ever. It's getting to the point where my friends text me about how pleased they are that they have no need to leave their apartments because they don't want to drown.
Also, West Wing series finale...bah. Bah, I say! You'd think they would have had Toby appear in the last episode of the series. Or, if they went through all the trouble of getting Rob Lowe back, have him do something interesting. Or have Josh and Donna say ONE word to each other during the freaking episode. But no, my friends, you'd be wrong. And as I said to the Vice Queen- I want series finales to explain everything explicitly to me. If I wanted to imagine things I'd read a book or look at some modern art.
Bastards.
Lastly, the falafel wraps from Whole Foods? Not so good. Wilted lettuce and bland hummus.
That could have been a haiku, but I'm done with the book learnin'.
3 comments:
I'm just going to quickly point out the back-to-back "being sick sucks" "let's go stomp in rain puddles" posts... that is all.
I'm not sick anymore, wiseass. I only have two days left on the antibiotics. That makes me, like, perfectly healthy. Unlike you, Boozy McAfternoon.
I am pretty sure that I put in an order for perfect Mays. Every year. I wonder if there's a form I forgot to fill out. It seems to have worked pretty well up to now. But I have of late, and wherefore I know not, lost my mojo. So in a way I'm not surprised that the month of my natal anniversary has turned to Suck. Par for the course. Er, sorry about that, Boston. You are collateral damage in the war I am currently waging against the universe. Fbleh.
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