Girls, Cocaine, and Miniature Deer
What's not to love about Groundhog's Day Eve? Phil-Hawg is gettin' all stylin' and limber right about now-- waxing his bushy brows and buffing his claws for his sexy, sultry, shadowy silhouette photo shoot. He's so hot. And meteorologically-acute. Therefore, in honor of the number of legs a groundhog has, tonight I am setting out to discuss four very crucial points.
1. Because I have my CNN.com account set up to send me updates when Lindsay Lohan news hits the wires (no, like, really), I was shocked at this headline this morning: Lohan Injured in Teacup Accident.
My initial reaction: Golly!
My secondary reaction: On the Disneyworld ride?
My tertiary reaction: Do you think that was to help her puke? (Oh, shut it, you were thinkin' it a little.)
Turns out, no primary-colored carnivalism involved. Merely a ceramic teacup. Lodged in her leg. In Bryan Adams' house. While he wasn't home. And she was all lotioned up. Because she had just gotten out of the shower. But failed to towel-dry. After making eggs.
Holy what-the-fuck-did-you-just-say? The bulimia and crack thing made sense. This is just daffy.
:: 53 crabapples.
2. On the Kelly Ripa front: Kell makes $36,000 per episode of Live, not to mention her yearly $100,000 clothing and accessories bonus. She is very close to entering I-walk-down-hardwood-stairs-holding-fragile-objects-while-i'm-soaking-wet-and-expect-not-to-fall-down territory. Good thing I think she's cute and likeable anyway. Or I may have lodged a sweet porcelain rosebud in her thigh myself.
:: 3 pineapples for making good choices with your clothing allowance; 4 more for getting one in the first place.
(3). I am not going to expound upon Google's baby's-first-stock-slump because it means absolutely nothing yet. And I'm in the mood to be more flitty than socio-economic tonight anyhow. But, if you want to read another great Financial Times article (you're watching me becoming a fan in real-time, here)... check out Richard Waters' take. I promise I'll be back with a worthy comment when something happens that actually entreats it; otherwise, i'm being a foolhardy reactionary numbskull of the variety towards whom I have repeatedly and decisively expressed hate.
:: Yuppers- a mully.
(3). This one doesn't count either because it's not important, but I wanted to announce that I have purchased a lovely new set of turquoise and white martini glasses. These are in replacement of the set of four bubble-crystal ones which I have broken over the past two months (purely due to poor product design, not because I am clumsy or because I don't towel-dry). Anyway, I just made myself a very chic drink with 6 cherries on the bottom. 6! That is two more than the number of legs a groundhog has! Groundhog's Day Eve is always so much fun!
:: 2 parenthetical pineapples.
3. Madonna and the Gorillaz will team up for the opening number of the Grammys! Sweet wad of cartoon sexiness!
:: 89 pumped-up pines.
4. I was a lucky girl today when I received a demo CD of a swishy-smart emerging Boston band: Silent Service. Click on audio and stream Girls & Cocaine. I dare you to listen and not want to:
a.) say "shit, this is wicked f-ing good."
b.) snap your fingers and dance like a helicopter-person.
c.) feel a intense urge to grab a straw and bang a slut. In a good way.
Check it out. I enjoy them even more than all these cherries. And we're talking cherries with stems here, readers; this is serious.
::158 pineapples, fresh fo' yo' pickin'.
(4). I know, I know, I lied. But I nearly forgot a tidbit of momentous news: yesterday I had my first visitor who found me from a Google search for... for.... Mousedeer! (12/22 for the newbies). That dear little deer is sexy, you betcha. I'm thrilled that the public is finally catching wind.
:: 7 itsy-bitsy but smoldering pineapples.
I just gave out 263 pineapples in a single post.
And the fact that I pulled out a calculator for that affects me a little bit.
And yes, I put down a paper towel to snap a cherry pic--- I don't stain white countertops, gratia artis or not...
And, when, prithee tell, did I start thinking in Latin?