The following is the blog equivalent of that one weird episode of Gilmore Girls where they just did a weird montage of everybody fighting at Emily and Richard's for 35 minutes, and then they all got drunk. Or maybe I was the one who got drunk. Anyway, here are the worst things in the world.
1. I walked into Target the other day to buy a winter coat, and what did I see? Not only are women's swimsuits already on sale, but they are RIGHT NEXT TO THE WINTER COATS. Presumably because the flasher look is so in? Target, I can overlook the fact that the Valentine's Day merchandise is already out- in a stunning double whammy of poor placement, right next to the 50% off Christmas candy- mostly because it led me to said super-cheap boxes of Ghiradelli chocolates with snowflakes on the label. BUT THE BATHING SUITS?!? In the words of Garfunkel and Oates, What the fuck's your fucking problem?!
Let's ignore the obvious for a second (that it's currently below freezing temperature), and focus on the fact that no one, I repeat, NO ONE is going to want to try on bikinis so soon after spending the holidays stuffing their pieholes with, well, pie. We haven't even seen the obligatory "Get that bikini bod!" magazine covers shipped straight from Hell yet. Maybe your idiocy is what's killing all the goddamned birds in Arkansas, Target.
"These statements have not been evaluated by the Food and Drug Administration."
NOR BY ANYONE WHO KNOWS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN GOOD AND WELL.
3. After years of being forced to listen to NPR on the way to church, I've developed an aversion to its programming*, specifically This American Life. I decided to give TAL another shot, as I now have 40 hours per week of quiet-office-job that needs to be filled with podcasts. I was listening to an episode in which a man interviewed his friend who had recently attempted suicide (with a plan to give the friend an edited version of the interview in the hopes that it would deter him from attempting again later). Well, the friend attempted suicide again, and he succeeded. And in between the short exchanges between the man and his friend, TAL is playing this dopey dentist office music, which is dumb but not as pants-shittingly infuriating as what they did next.
THEY PLAYED JUMPER BY THIRD EYE BLIND. As in- I wish you would step back from that ledge, my friend. THIS AMERICAN LIFE, YOU ARE TACKY, AND I HATE YOU. How incredibly tasteless. You're remembering someone who committed suicide, not playing filler at my 8th grade sock hop.
AND THEN TODAY, an online news source had brief descriptions about the people killed in the shooting in Arizona, and one of them included an R.I.P. tweet from someone affiliated with the news source. 140 characters doesn't scream heartfelt; it says, our self-promotion is more important than your memory. If I ever succumb to an untimely or unusual death, and someone pulls this shit, their ass is getting seriously haunted.
You know how they stay in?! They've got a big chunk of tape on them that sticks to your hair- not your skin! YOUR HAIR. You know what is detectable? That spot where you clearly ripped out a layer of skin and hair on your forehead!!! I feel like somebody got drunk, passed out with a Biore pore strip on their hair, and thought, I can sell this! Oh my god. I just saw that they cost close to 50 bucks. My head hurts.
5. This dude. On the metro. Was clipping his nails. HIS NAILS. HE CLIPPED HIS NAILS ON THE METRO AND LEFT THE CLIPPINGS ALL DEVIL-MAY-CARE ON THE FLOOR.
I have to go. I cut my foot earlier, and my shoe is filling up with blood.