24 hours and counting
First off, I caught Steven Colbert's roast (more like skewering) of President Bush. I watched it for about ten minutes then had to turn it off. Not because it offended me, just that it was almost agonizing to watch. Hearing Colbert's remarks into a room full of press folks and in some instances, you could hear a pen (or recorder) drop.
Everyone is saying this was offensive, but I stand behind Colbert. After all, this was a president who filmed a video of him looking around in the White House for WMDs while civilians and troops that HE sent off to war were getting killed in Iraq while he was filming this joke for the press correspondence dinner.
It's Friday. I'm going to my ex-girlfriend's poetry slam tonight. She wants me to meet her fiance. I dated her when she was in the "drinking Jack and Coke, partying her ass off and blasting Tori Amos and Etta James at 1:30 in the morning" stage in her life. Now, she hosts tons of open mic nights and has published a few poetry books. She doesn't drink anymore and she works out. This is the stage that her fiance is getting. The "healthy, successful" stage.
I will not have a date tonight. And I want to meet her fiance because we've been practically best friends since we broke up almost nine years ago. I will watch a poetry slam for a great cause (Amnesty International), maybe grab a drink after and then go home and get my home ready for my new arrival on Saturday.
I'm feverishly trying to throw as many CDs and junk out to make room for Friedman (named after Thomas Friedman). I bought a radio for work, so I can bring my radio home so Friedman can listen to white noise during the day to curb his separation anxiety. I rented a car and bought a blanket so I can rub it on the mother so Friedman can have something that smells like his mom.
I've had roommates before. But I've never lived with someone that was totally reliant on my being there to care for them. It's a scary premise. Sleepless nights, failed toilet trainings, obedience training... I'm getting sort of freked.
Everyone is saying this was offensive, but I stand behind Colbert. After all, this was a president who filmed a video of him looking around in the White House for WMDs while civilians and troops that HE sent off to war were getting killed in Iraq while he was filming this joke for the press correspondence dinner.
It's Friday. I'm going to my ex-girlfriend's poetry slam tonight. She wants me to meet her fiance. I dated her when she was in the "drinking Jack and Coke, partying her ass off and blasting Tori Amos and Etta James at 1:30 in the morning" stage in her life. Now, she hosts tons of open mic nights and has published a few poetry books. She doesn't drink anymore and she works out. This is the stage that her fiance is getting. The "healthy, successful" stage.
I will not have a date tonight. And I want to meet her fiance because we've been practically best friends since we broke up almost nine years ago. I will watch a poetry slam for a great cause (Amnesty International), maybe grab a drink after and then go home and get my home ready for my new arrival on Saturday.
I'm feverishly trying to throw as many CDs and junk out to make room for Friedman (named after Thomas Friedman). I bought a radio for work, so I can bring my radio home so Friedman can listen to white noise during the day to curb his separation anxiety. I rented a car and bought a blanket so I can rub it on the mother so Friedman can have something that smells like his mom.
I've had roommates before. But I've never lived with someone that was totally reliant on my being there to care for them. It's a scary premise. Sleepless nights, failed toilet trainings, obedience training... I'm getting sort of freked.
posted by TransformerGeek at 6:33 AM
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