There are so many intelligent and articulate people covering the hard-hitting
issues in our country these days, that I felt it was my duty to cover the
rather inconsequential bullshit that tends to make up the vast majority of
our lives. Actually, I'll just be griping a lot which, if you weren't aware,
doubles as a synonym for complaining, and as a descriptor for
a sharp pain in the bowels.

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

I Said Baby...

It's 3am I should be sleepy. I am forever getting this song stuck in my head when the hour gets late and I think perhaps sleep would be a good idea. Never been much of one for Matchbox 20/Rob Thomas to be honest, but it's a testament to the [one-time] power of radio and pop promotion that I can still recite the lyrics to their biggest hits.

Speaking of big hits, I watched the documentary made on Valentino the other day (courtesy sister-in-law) and I have to say, that it was pretty kick ass. I'm fairly inept when it comes to high-end fashion, and perhaps we could extend that to fashion in general. But I at least know what I like, and if I was a wealthy, high-powered woman, I would like Valentino (RIP). The dude is a total eccentric and yet another reminder of that fine line between genius and mental illness/disorder. He's a total diva but yes, I think this film actually contains something for all. That's right, an out and out recommendation.

I think that is saying something considering I should have been all fashioned out after viewing the Iris Apfel Exhibition at Salem's Peabody Museum. The exhibition title refers to her as irreverent and I don't know whether this is meant to be complimentary. You'd think they might be trying for hmm, I don't know, iconic? But irreverent might be more apt as many of the hideous and ridiculous garments show a lack of respect for the tender stomachs of unseasoned onlookers. Needless to say, I won't be needing to see any more outfits composed of feathers of some birds I've never even heard of. Instead I'll just remember this kooky old lady for her appearances in vintage Old Navy commercials, which I am too tired to attempt to locate.

There was some other crap I was going to add but my coffee and insane intake of sweets (Thanksgiving's four slices of pie + apple crisp + ice cream seem like a joke in comparison) this evening has finally worn off. Tasks to burn off this excess energy included attempting to complete my November novel and a creepy and beautiful walk along the lake. Creepy because some little critters of indeterminate origin spooked the shit out of me. No contacts+relative darkness=Jebbo potentially crapping pants.

In other news it's December (wow) and it is about to get cold as a motherfucker up in this bitch. With New Year's oh-so-close I may pledge to curse less. It really does take away from things that profanity it does, and when you use it less, it really packs that extra oomph when you do deliver it. I also intend to start speaking in websites again. I may even start blogging about less boring shit, but don't count on it. This may include a once weekly attempt at a humorous short story or something. Hard to say. But once more I must say, this little boy is tired and I must bid you adieu.

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