Why I am blogging when I should be showering?

and later I'll ask, "Why am I showering when I should be blogging?"
it's a vicious circle.
jerk.
owie...

uh.
anyway.
I mistakenly watched a couple of episodes of Punk'd yesterday...
it was a mistake because I never EVER put the tv on that channel.
ok, hardly nevers...
and a mistake because I was too lazy to get up and get the remote--
hey!
don't give me shit--
I was in my bed and it was before 9am.
I'm allowed.
besides,
I had been awake since 6, fretting over whether or not my husband would get up and take the trash to the curb for a 7:30 pick up.
he had promised.
anyWHO.
it wasn't really a mistake,
because A. Ashton Kutcher is hot, when he's not playing Kelso
(somehow, "dumb" has never looked sexy to me. odd, I know.)
and B. they were punking cool people!!!
the two dudes from Scrubs--
which is my favoritest show of all the world--
(donald faison and zach braff)
and then they did...
um, crap i forgot.
but then it was Joss Stone,
whose name I keep hearing, but whose music I have not. (heard)
after that show, I'm buying her album.
i don't care what genre it is,
or whether she sounds like nails on a chalkboard--
she is the sweetest little thing you ever did see.
entirely adorable and kind and did not get ruffled for one second.
oh yeah and the other one was the Napolean Dynamite kid,
in a brothel.
he's mormon.
heeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!
all 3 of those made me smile.
and so, it was not a mistake, but i'm sure as hell not going back to change that segue.
fuck that.
and is it really considered a "segue" if it's in print?
i wonder.

AND today I'm going to brave the shelves of boxes and boxes and boxes
in my garage, to look for the rest of my decor-ish stuff.
sweet!!
that rhymes with "whoreish"!!
so, if you're ever writing a poem or a song or even just a nice little limerick--
now you know.
of course, you're on your own as far as fitting those two words together in any sort of coherant phrasing, but hey, I can't do it ALL, can I????
aw, fuck you.
I could, but I'm not going to.
I believe in letting my little birds learn to fly on their own.
or something.
shit.
get me into the shower, wouldja?
not like that, ya pervs.
the handcuffs would rust!
jeez.

happy day to you.
i may be back later.