It’s Wednesday afternoon and I’m watching The Ellen DeGeneres show.
There are two guys on skis jumping on trampolines.
Now she’s singing a karaoke version of I Will Survive with Emma Thompson, arguably one of the greatest actresses of our time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Revelations 6.18: And they will jumpeth on skis to the sun, which as I mentioned, is like sackcloth. And Ellen and her infidels will cheer madly and eat the unripe figs and whathaveyou.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Next: Dr. Phil berating a 40-year-old plastic surgeon for dating a chick who just graduated high school.
They met on Sugardaddie.com.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And of course, there are commercials for the upcoming Barbra Streisand concert.
“A life. Changing. Experience.” said one particularly dramatic and verklempt fan.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Why are you torturing yourself with this, Heather?
I’m heavily medicated. I’d read, but I’m incapable of focusing on a page for more than a few seconds.
And it’s making me feel better about myself, oddly enough.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yes. There’s a web site where shallow, greedy women can find stupid, wealthy men.
Yet another sign that the world is coming to an end soon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Revelations 6.15: And lo, the kings of the earth, the nobles, the military officers, the rich, the powerful, hid themselves in the caves of the young, nubile women.
And Jesus wept.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I went to my regular doctor yesterday morning for what was supposed to be pre-op blood work and a physical.
She didn’t even bother with that stuff.
“What happened to your arm? And why are you coughing so much?”
Turns out what I thought was an irritating cold is a form of mono (not the high school make out kind, sadly.) And my arm, which I still can’t lift higher than my chest without experiencing Extreme Ow, now appears to be a torn rotator cuff. The MRI is tomorrow.
I’ve been ordered to rest in an attempt to get better for the much anticipated and long-awaited surgery next Wednesday. I’m on antibiotics, painkillers (Darvocet woo-hoo!) and an anti-inflammatory.
If I don’t get better by tomorrow, the surgery is postponed.
And that would be even more depressing than watching Ellen DeGeneres make out with Barbra Streisand in a fig tree.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I am listening to: The doggies rough-housing
I am reading: Nothing, sadly
And I am: Sick, sore and stoned
2 months ago
5 comments:
Dang...where is this cave you speak of? ;)
Sorry bout the mono and the torn cuff...
my boyfriend wants to know if there is a sugarmamma dot com?
Imagine my suprise! Literally rather than working, I went to "who links to me?" and found that you did. Not to be too gushy, but you are my first. I'll treasure you always.
I'd return the favor, but I am absolutely no good at html beyond knowing what the acronym stands for. I wonder if Borders has an HTML for Dummies book.
I can't stand HTML and know just enough to be dangerous. It's great making the connection, Dave!
I don't think hot girls need to be on sites like this to get dates. Perhaps vanity is some factor. Not sure this really is a major appeal for hot women. I believe MillionaireMatch.com is more of a draw than this site for hot women.
Post a Comment