Monday, November 24, 2003

Can't think of anything to talk about today. A rant takes too long. An analysis requires too much thinking.

What to write ... what to write about ...

I want to talk about Ham Hock and her got-the-dog-by-its-tail love tactics but it might seem like I have an obsessive habit to observe (it's like compulsive voyeurism, but in a wholly platonic sense. In laymen's terms: No, I don't like to watch heteros "doing it". Though, I don't mind the occasional ... Wait, no. I don't like watching anyone "doing it" *shudder*).

So I leave you with one thought:

If the world was, indeed, an oyster ... what happens to those allergic to shellfish?

Like my dad. Who was playing the accordion and singing commie songs again. When will someone break the news to him that Mao is dead? Actually, in China, people seem to worship Clinton (and to a lesser degree, Hillary). He has a fashion campaign out now, which he got paid US$500 000 to do. It really is the American dream: to have steel wool-looking hair, a girth the size of two Judd sisters (okay, I'm exaggerating. Maybe the Olsens) and still get paid to sport tailored suits ... albeit, made in China.

No comments: