I'm down here in Brooklyn Park, sick as a dog. I got a horrid case of the flu, but I can still eat. That's good, but nothing settles right. I have to type a paper comparing the lives of Plato and Aristotle, but lord do I not want to do it.
I couldn't sleep last night for the life of me, so I watched "Date My Mom" or whatever that crap show on MTV is where junior "brahs" take out ice princesses while their moms act like jailbait hungry whores. Anyways, last nights episode was the first one that I have seen which, I believe, was all scripted. The moms and the brah were all squinting towards the camera and talking in a clipped, monotone sort of way. And one of the moms kept showing her ta's. It was just so fake. If some chick hung out with my mom, I'm pretty sure it would go like this. "So, how is your son." My mom would reply:" Well, hes 23, he lives at home. He wastes all his money on records and beer, and I thought he was gay until he was 16."
Well, better get to paper writing, instead of watching the E! True Hollywood Story on Dirty Dancing. Did you know that Ghost won the best original screenplay at the 1991 Oscars? What the hell else was up for it that year? City Slickers and the Mighty Ducks couldn't cut it?
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