Monday, January 05, 2004

Insomnia has struck me tonight. I'm experiencing jet-lag-a-titis-in-the-same-zone-a-tosis. That's what watching Blind Date does to you. Saw their "Uncensored Dates From Hell" special. I'm scared of the adult world now because people ... yes ... are absolutely insane! Cuckoo for coco puffs and then some. I'll list a few of the perpetrators for you:

The woman who spoke Mermaid in the hottub dressed as a mermaid.
Well, the closest you can you get in cheap sequins from Party City.

The bipolar black guy who agreed to go on the date to make his ex jealous and blew-up over everything his date said. Topics of discussion ranged from the weather to "You want ketchup with your fries?"

The insecure wigger with the soccer ball etched head who told his date she looked to be a "snob, bitch, and high-maintenance" because she went to university in England. Ooh, mustn't forget him telling her to "take a cab home, bitch" as he drank his lunchtime Corona.

The vain Italian chick with the nosejob who told her date "I'm someone your friends would date before they let you have a taste." And stood up from the bar to imitate him as a grocery clerk, checking out items. He manages a $30 million company.

The twin Detroit sisters (extra pale hooker eyeshadow) who were on separate dates but acted bored and began talking to each other on their (overused) cell phones before the food even arrived.

Also the emotional misogynistic divorcee verbally attacking his date for, once again, everything. It especially didn't go over well when she told him to "loosen up" his tie. The Blind Date "F.Y.I. Guy" said it was a clip-on anyway. Ugh! In a Hawiian print, too!

Shall I go on? It was painful to watch. Literally, painful to watch psychos boiling over the nutjob pot. You could sense the active neurosis chugging towards you five minutes in, like the Chattanooga choo choo. In soap operas, you know exactly what will happen when the girl says to her on-again, off-again, father/son/uncle, "We need to talk." Except pregnancy doesn't seem so bad after knowing people like this exist in the world.

It's now snowing out. The weatherman finally got it right. I really hate snow. After living in the Great White North for the greater part of my life, you'd think I'd be used to the symbolic (stereotypical?) blood of Canucks. Of course, that doesn't seem to be the case since the white stuff makes it look like heaven and hell both froze over.

Half an hour until my M&M deluxe clock/radio/phone begins the morning with a burst of music from Jazz FM. Maybe I'll be a rebel and turn it on right now. Hands reaching for it ... getting hot ... hotter ... cold. I'll just listen to Outkast's Hey Ya on my computer. Man, I love that song.


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