Oh my gosh, I killed a Golden Girl.
So, I am not sure how many people out there actually still read this journal or whatever, but last week I wrote a Facebook post that said the following:
"First Gary Coleman, now Dennis Hopper. It's the celebrity rule of three! Watch out Rue McClanahan!"
. . . .
I killed a Golden Girl.
Thank heavens it was not Betty White or I would have been lynched. Either way, rest in peace Mrs. Devereaux.
Off of me being a sociopath (or perhaps this is the reason for it): OMGlee. I love Glee, and sadly for my wallet, most Glee-related merchandising (I don't need a "Team Finn" t-shirt, but I do have the cast albums, thanks to najacheese .) In fact, I have been listening to the cast albums at work today and have been oddly productive as a result.
All those that fail at life, please raise your hand. ::pause as Laurie's digits climb timidly skyward:: The crappy car is on it's way to death. Oh hooray. It's been overheating and has oil problems, so when I called the guy that fixed my brakes, he told me that it was probably more worthwhile to fix my white car/doorstop because they were going to cost about the same amount. (SCREAM!!!) Sigh. Okay, I guess I feel a little better now. This means a couple of things:
1) I could be carless in as little as a month unless . . .
2) I decide to borrow against my car- taking my loan back up to its full amount thus indebting myself to another 5 years of payments.
3) I cannot even drive the white one off of a cliff because I took full coverage off of it a while ago and now if I put it back on and it suffers a *mysterious accident*, I could be charged with fraud.
4) I am going to have to continue living where I am for at least the rest of the summer.
5) A raise now means nothing.
BAAAAAAAAH. Frustrating. Need to bury my head in a pillow but barring that, this stack of manilla envelopes will do.
On top of that, apparently in the "Sex and the City" foursome of me, Tia, Fannie, and Val, I am Miranda. Hooray. Neurotic, whiny, a redhead, and gay in real life. If I was not totally hot for her husband, I would have to throw myself out my office window.
I can get a little happier later, but right now, I just gots to make it through the end of the workday.
"First Gary Coleman, now Dennis Hopper. It's the celebrity rule of three! Watch out Rue McClanahan!"
. . . .
I killed a Golden Girl.
Thank heavens it was not Betty White or I would have been lynched. Either way, rest in peace Mrs. Devereaux.
Off of me being a sociopath (or perhaps this is the reason for it): OMGlee. I love Glee, and sadly for my wallet, most Glee-related merchandising (I don't need a "Team Finn" t-shirt, but I do have the cast albums, thanks to najacheese .) In fact, I have been listening to the cast albums at work today and have been oddly productive as a result.
All those that fail at life, please raise your hand. ::pause as Laurie's digits climb timidly skyward:: The crappy car is on it's way to death. Oh hooray. It's been overheating and has oil problems, so when I called the guy that fixed my brakes, he told me that it was probably more worthwhile to fix my white car/doorstop because they were going to cost about the same amount. (SCREAM!!!) Sigh. Okay, I guess I feel a little better now. This means a couple of things:
1) I could be carless in as little as a month unless . . .
2) I decide to borrow against my car- taking my loan back up to its full amount thus indebting myself to another 5 years of payments.
3) I cannot even drive the white one off of a cliff because I took full coverage off of it a while ago and now if I put it back on and it suffers a *mysterious accident*, I could be charged with fraud.
4) I am going to have to continue living where I am for at least the rest of the summer.
5) A raise now means nothing.
BAAAAAAAAH. Frustrating. Need to bury my head in a pillow but barring that, this stack of manilla envelopes will do.
On top of that, apparently in the "Sex and the City" foursome of me, Tia, Fannie, and Val, I am Miranda. Hooray. Neurotic, whiny, a redhead, and gay in real life. If I was not totally hot for her husband, I would have to throw myself out my office window.
I can get a little happier later, but right now, I just gots to make it through the end of the workday.