That’s right, kids. Three posts in one week. I figure if I can’t deliver quality then quantity is the next best thing.
My neck is still a little tweaked, thanks for asking. Nordic Boy has taken to calling me “Crinky” on account of my crinked up neck. I think that we should have a little kids’ show starring two characters based on us, called the “Crinky and Cracker Show.” (I call him a cracker sometimes, it’s true. The love, it flows around here). Only I think the Crinky and Cracker Show might have a wee bit too much cussing in it, which I suppose is not ok by, you know, community social graces and everything. Although I grew up around a whole lot of cussing and so did Nordic Boy and we turned out ok didn’t we? I said, DIDN’T WE?
So my most favoritest favorite show out of all the shows on all the channels is starting up a new season. That’s right. So You Think You Can Dance is BACK. I can’t really explain to you how much I adore, I love, I yearn for, this show. I watch it, and tivo it, and watch it again. Do you, any of my blog friends, watch? Because I must tell you that the only thing that is sad to me about the return of my favorite show is that no one I know gives a rooster’s balls about it. It is such a watch-with-a-friend sort of show, and I have no one. No one! It’s so sad. I watch by myself and talk to the screen as if there is someone else there, commentating all about which dances are the best, which dancers I think are doing each other, is Dan Karaty really 3 feet tall because he looks like it, and what Wade Robson is stoned on. Doesn’t that sound like a fun night to you? Don’t you want to come over and have a SYTYCD watch party with me?
Ah, whatever. I never said I was cool or anything, so you can’t hold me to saying cool things.
We saw something really freaky last night. We came around this corner and we saw, in the middle of the street, a car that had spun out and a munched-up scooter and a woman (former scooter-driver) lying in the street. We whipped out our cell phones to call for help (which about 20 different other people were doing too, so I don’t know how helpful it really was). It was so strange because she just looked so normal there, as if she was taking a nap in the street. No obvious cuts or broken limbs or anything. There were lots of people running toward her in an attempt to help and it was SO FREAKY. It was strange because there were so many people around, and after a few minutes, Nordic Boy and I sort of looked around and we were both torn about what to do. It seemed like an appropriate show of concern to stand there and send “please let her be ok” thoughts out. But on the other hand, we weren’t really DOING anything so there was a part of us that was like, are we being icky crash-watchers? Finally, we left. I hope she’s ok. Would you have stayed? I don’t know. Is it gross that I’m talking about accident-ettiquette like it’s frickin Emily Post or something? Ack.
I’m going to change the subject now.
Did I mention that I am about to embark upon a three day weekend? I have been so excited about it that each morning since Wednesday I have shouted out “It’s FRIDAY!” when the alarm goes off. Finally, today, I was right! Plus, it’s supposed to be sunny and in the 70s all weekend! I have nothing clever to say about this! It’s delicious all on it’s own, without added snark! As an added bonus, Nordic Boy and I have no solid plans! It’s all loosey-goosey, what-do-you-want-to-do-I-don’t-know-what-do-you-want-to-do style.
What do you have going on this weekend? What do you think we should do?