I've been away a long time. Why? Intensive training for the Graduate Level Presidential Physical Fitness Challenge. Obama has inspired me to do the sit-and-reach and hang from a pull-up bar. Did you ever have to partake in the dumbed-down events for Presidential Challenge in gym class? At my school, you could either do pull-ups or just hang from the pull-up bar for as long as possible. How unfair is that to the kids who can actually do pull-ups? Do you know what's even more unfair...I couldn't even hang from the effing thing for more than ten seconds! Can you keep a secret? Promise not to tell Obama?! One year I totally cheated on the mile run! GASP! I have to say, it was one of my prouder moments in life. I can't believe I actually got away with it. "Wow, that's crazy how I shaved like five minutes off my time! Yeah, I'm sure I did all four laps." I totally only did three. Why do presidents have to be such bastards; they could sign Certificates of Participation or Good Sportsmanship Awards or something like that. Was Taft our fattest president? I bet things would be really different for a gal like me if Taft was runnin the show.
I'm currently taking a break from training and watching a rerun of some old David Blaine special. I don't even know what kind of trick he's doing, but he totally just touched this lady's boob and let his hand linger there for a while. Man, I really ought to look into magician training. "OK, I'm gonna need you to touch my right boob and tell me I look pretty while you think of your favorite card. Three of Clubs." Magic.
I went to the grocery store tonight, and my favorite check-out guy was really workin the canned goods. He took my Campbell's Chicken Noodle and was doing some Tom Cruise Cocktail-style moves. Soup has never looked sexier, and that means a lot coming from me; I really enjoy soup.
OK, random thought time:
What if you stopped using pens and did all of your written work with glue and glitter? Is it just me, or is the image of that really hilarious. Write your student loan check in glitter. You'll see.
Wouldn't it be weird if people farted in public without shame? Just let it rip with wild abandon. A couple of weeks ago I was in a checkout line, and this old fella behind me let out something fierce and just said, "Whoops!" Magic.
What if Romantic Cookbook was a legitimate literary genre? If you're so inclined, send me your favorite recipe and let me see if I can erotify it. "Melt 1/2 cup butter in microwave-safe bowl; in separate bowl, cup a buttock until frontal denim-covered area stiffens." I dunno. What kind of bowl could you even use? Eff that. That's just weird. OK, I'm just gonna bank on the magic thing working out for me. I really think it will. I mean, I can name pretty much every card in a standard deck. Magic.
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