First off, happy National Gorilla Suit Day!
Secondly, I have to admit that in yesterday’s post I was a bit less than honest.
After all, for me, a day in which I get a haircut and make meat loaf is actually pretty amazingly eventful.
What makes it worse is that I also made biscuits and gravy for breakfast/lunch, which makes for a phenomenally eventful day in the life of Jon.
(By the way, someone should come up with a word for breakfast/lunch, something that demonstrates that it’s not quite breakfast, not quite lunch…hmm…br…bru…got it! Blunch! Or, if you want to get all hip hop, you could day b-lunch, like, “What’s for b-lunch, b-yotch?” Perfect. What’s that? Oh, right, “brunch.” Never mind.)
The point is that despite what I claimed, yesterday really wasn’t any less eventful than my standard non-eventful days; I just didn’t feel like writing much of a post.
I had no random complaints that I really felt like getting off my chest, no “witty” observations, no desire to write an entry mentioning Giada’s boobs or something that would lure unsuspecting people wanting to learn Carla Gugino’s bra size pointlessly here.
I really shouldn’t make fun of the boob and bra size seekers, though I do have to ask a question, which I know none of the people who could answer will, since they only stick around long enough to see that they aren’t going to find any pictures of Giada’s boobs or learn anyone’s bra size, about why people want to know bra sizes anyway.
Honestly, why do you want to know? What will you gain from the knowledge? Is it a matter of wanting your masturbatory fantasies to be as specific and accurate as possible? Are you planning on designing clothes for them?
What sort of edification do you gain from knowing a celebrity's cup size? I mean, “freaking huge” or “tiny and cute” aren’t specific enough for you? Is it like, “Hmm, I thought her boobs were big, but I couldn’t be sure just by looking at them.”
And beyond your need to know, what makes you think you’re going to find out?
For the most part, the only celebrities who provide their bra sizes are Playboy Playmates and the like. Most actresses don’t really publicize that sort of thing.
Still, I really shouldn’t be picking on the seekers of knowledge, the seekers of boobs, and the seekers of knowledge about boobs whose quests unwittingly guide them here for a 0-5 second stay.
After all, if it weren’t for the people who click on the links that pop up in search engine results even though if they looked at the text of the results they’d clearly see that they’re not going to find what they’re looking for, I would hardly have any traffic at all, just the meager handful, the B cup’s worth, if you will, of regular visitors.
Me complaining about the misguided visitors I get is like when D.R.I. would sing those songs about what a hassle it is to be famous.
Right now you’re saying, “D.R.I.? Who the hell is D.R.I.?”
To which I respond, “Exactly.”
(For the record, D.R.I., or “Dirty Rotten Imbeciles,” was a punk band that crossed over to thrash metal. Sort of like Sean Astin in Rudy, who made up for what he lacked in height with spirit, D.R.I. made up for what they lacked in talent with enthusiasm. I loved those guys, and listening to them still makes me smile. I didn’t always agree with their opinions – the song Gun Control comes to mind – but who could resist the hard, fast, and heavy sound mixed with inspired lyrics, coming together to form short, punch little ditties that seldom lasted for more than a minute?
One of my favorites is Dead in a Ditch:
Pretty young girl from the Oakland Hills
Stole her dad’s car and all her mom’s pills
Got all fucked up, drove off a cliff
Ended up dead, dead in a ditch
Just like her mother always told her she’d end up
All fucked up
Dead
Dead in a ditch
They often turned their attention to a variety issues, such as drug abuse, AIDS, child abduction, war, and pollution, but they also liked to cut loose and just have some fun every so often.
One of the other things I liked about them is their appreciation for the work of ee cummings, who is one of my favorite poets.
Anyway, that’s it for this little D.R.I. retrospective. We now return you to your regularly scheduled Threshold, already in progress.)
..to which I said, “No way. You’re the one who wanted to have hookers over in the first place, so you’re the one who’s going to have to deal with getting rid of the bodies.”
Anyway, today the only thing I have on tap is a trip back to the car dealership for Emission Inspection version 2.0.
Hopefully the 100+ miles I’ve put on is sufficient to give them what they need.
Other than that I’m waiting on a phone call that I also spent most of yesterday waiting on, before finally getting a call at the end of the day asking if it’d be okay if we postponed the call until today.
Yes, I’m being vague.
Basically, there is the possibility of me getting a part-time job. I’ll give you more details as things develop.
Anyway, I’ve been more than wordy enough today to make up for yesterday’s terseness, so I guess I’ll bring this entry to a close.
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