13steps.com

C****8: i’ll make a call
C****8: see if TJ lives up to his boasting, lol
d****s: Wow. Let a brotha know!
d****s: Let me know, too.

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So, there was a myspace bulletin with a link to this site.  You can upload a pic of yourself and it tells you which celebrities you resemble.  Bored, I gave it a shot.

I used this photo.

The site provided me with the following results:  [small, sorry]

Brando and Elvis?  Sweet.

Peter Gabriel?  That’s fine.

Demi Moore?  I’d say something smarmy, but you know… I have to agree.  I kind of look like her.

Stupid internet with its stupid websites… 

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I had so many Salt and Vinegar chips, last night, that I couldn’t feel my tongue. I’m beginning to understand that taste-buds are only capable of so much.  I buy a bag of these monsters every time I go grocery-shopping.  Moderation, I know… 

While in the store, I passed by the magazine rack and saw a couple of the headlines.  One of which read ‘Jen talks to Angelina!’ Big fecking deal. People, if you think that this is news-worthy, please make it a point to avoid me altogether. Seriously.  The other one that caught my eye said ‘Diet secrets - Lindsay Lohan.’  Nearby wine-glasses shattered from my shriek of laughter when I read this.  That’s right, kids!  A coke addiction and a severely fucked-up self-image is the key to a healthy body.  And by ‘healthy,’ I mean grotesquely skinny.  That’s hot, after all.  Totally hot. 

I noticed the cashier and the customer in front of me flirting as I loaded my items onto the conveyor belt. It was obvious that both of them were quite shy. They couldn’t stop smiling and kept sneaking looks at one another. It was really too cute. It made me squirm just a little. 

I still ride the shopping cart in the parking lot.  You know?  Push it just a little at first, then hop up and put both feet on that little bar. Steering never goes as planned. I turn 26 in a month and still do this. 

So, Lynn and I saw The Family Stone last night.  It wasn’t as good as I hoped it to be.  There were cute moments, but it was mostly half-assed.  It also seemed to try a little too hard at times. For instance, there’s a scene where the liberal, hippy daughter arrives. How would one determine that she’s the liberal, hippy daughter?  Well, in her very first scene in the movie, she’s wearing a hand-made skirt, drives an old, dirty, yellow Volvo station wagon, and is carrying a bag with an N.P.R. logo on it. I shit you not. N.P.fucking R. Personally, I prefer that character development be achieved through dialogue and not spoon-fed to me with a montage of stereotypes. Come on, Hollywood. Give us more credit than that. 

Did I cry during this stupid movie?  Or course.  Hell, I even cried at a preview about sled dogs that starred Paul Walker.  I’m very much on my man-rag, it seems. 

Oh, I almost forgot about this!  At the theater, while purchasing a soda, the snack-stand guy asked if he could interest me in some sour gummy bears or popcorn with my drink. I [straight-faced] responded with, ‘Not if you want to keep your spleen.’ The look on his face…  Poor kid.  Don’t worry, though.  I quickly informed him of the fact that I was just quoting a movie and being silly.  I’m not completely heartless.

I stumbled upon this trailer a few days ago.  I’m certain that Bale will be great, as usual, but am most interested in seeing Zahn in a serious role.  I’ve always enjoyed his comedic timing and have a feeling that there’s more to him than what I’ve seen thus far. 

I switched to soy milk. So far, so good.  I’m not doing it for any PETA-type reason; I just need healthier eating habits. Chocolate Silk is great and is never too thick. That’s my problem with some of the pre-made chocolate milk products; they’re often thicker than a beverage should be. If I wanted chocolate pudding, I’d buy it. Thanks. 

True to my usual form, this post has been quite random.  As are my thoughts, lately.  I hope it wasn’t too hard to follow. 

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Dear guy who pissed all over the toilet seat at work,

   I beg you to not venture into public anymore.  I’m serious.  It wasn’t even a sprinkle of urine; the seat was saturated!  If you did it on purpose, you have no right to share the facilities with the rest of us.  You should get in your Chevy Avalanche with the Dale Ernhart bumper sticker and drive back to your home in the macho, redneck side of town and just stay there.  Get a satellite dish so you can catch all the episodes of your favorite generica-TV sitcom where the guy farts and you laugh, order chewing tobacco in bulk, and fuck/beat your wife/sister for not keeping your son/cousin away from your guns/porno.  If it was an accident and you don’t have Parkinson’s disease, you need to stay home and work on your aim until you can successfully utilize a toilet without turning it into some sort of stinky, performance-art piece.

Sincerely,
A fella with aim

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Clenched fists hang at my waist
Bare chest, slick with bath water
Face unshaven, brow pushed low
Tufts of wet, black hair point in all directions, frames my face
Eyes shine with loss and defeat
I’m helpless and naked

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