The SES are absolutely charming. Ruthless trained killers are just a phone call away.

Alright, I've now given up hope that blogger will EVER let me post a picture again, for the rest of my blogging life. Which, given how long trends last, should be about five minutes. Except that I am not terribly trendy, but I do have many, many opinions that nobody really cares about, and thus blogging is for me. So you don't have to worry. I know you were. Because, really, what brightens up your day like my trenchant comments on society??? Except for a bottle Stoli, I'm thinking not much.

You have been, however, sadly lacking in updates for the last couple of days.

Not my fault. I actually had to work the last three days, two of them for eight hours. This did not amuse me, as I am accustomed to and rather enjoy doing nothing. It also made me seriously doubt my ability to have a real job, where eight hours is like, Tuesday. And Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. Hmmm. Maybe that art history professor idea isn't so crazy. Because I'm fairly certain that I could wax extensive about my personal feelings of the Medici family. No problem.

Not so good at standing for sixteen hours. On my stubs, which used to be feet, before they realized what I was doing to them and staged a revolution. And my finger, which I burned on the Pizza Oven of Doom and is now blistered. Grrrr.

But wait, it's okay. Because I made $4.75 in tips. Over EIGHT HOURS. That's like sixty-three cents an hour. Why don't people like me??? I'm nice, I'm not nearly as sarcastic as I am here, I'm well-dressed, I very rarely screw things up, and I did not tell the girl who ordered a cafe au lait at eight forty-five last night that she could warm the milk by sticking it up her ass! This other girl made two dollars more in the three hours she was there yesterday than I did all freakin' day!!!! And I don't have an angry attitude. HATE.

On the upside, don't have to work on Wednesday. See? God wants me to watch CSI: NY.

And it's freakin' hot. Like heat advisory hot. And I don't care how much the people in Dallas and Las Vegas whine about how "We wait for ninety-five! That's like October for us!" No. No, do not tell me that. We have it worse, because at least when you walk outside in Dallas your skin just blisters. Here, you walk outside and CAN NOT BREATHE. Seriously. The humidity is crazy high. I weep for those without air conditioning.

Completely chanigng subjects, yesterday I was watching a show on National Geographic, which is a channel that I very rarely watch, in fact, I think it's blocked out on my rotation, because I want very few educational shows coming at me when I'm surfing from VH1 to E! to CBS. But it was all about Masons, which was exceedingly interesting, mainly because it was an hour long show, and they talked about everything, except what it is exactly that the Masons do. Seriously. You have meetings. You have little rituals. You have "degrees". But what do you DO!?!?!?!?! Wikipedia was no help. "A peculiar (some say particular or beautiful) system of morality veiled in allegory and illustrated by symbols"??? What does that mean???? GAH!!!!!! Craziness.

And no, I don't think that freemasonry was behind the French Revolution, the founding of the United States, or Truman's decision to drop an atomic bomb. I'm pretty sure those had to do with a bunch of irate commoners, damn King George, and the fact that the Japanese would JUST NOT GIVE UP!!!!!! I probably would have dropped a bomb, too, just to shut them up. But my feelings about WWII and how I would have handled things is a completely different political rant, which will have to come another day. I know you're all upset.

Imladris and I have decided that we must watch Love, Actually again (hence the title). Even though while discussing this we recited just about every line of importance. Which does not ruin it for us, as when we watch movies that are favorites we actually watch less of the movie and spend more time yelling comments at the screen. Like when Emma Thompson is all bent out of shape because her brother got to be all prime-ministery and England-rules and she got to make a paper mache lobster head, and I feel compelled to tell her to shove it because she gets to go home to Alan and that clearly is worth just about any political power you may wield. *sniff*

On to my Lala Land commentary...

Aww!!! Poor baby!!!! Does Mommy have to go fight another battle for you???

Seriously? Why?

Aw, Mel. Honey, why did you do this??? Now, I've never been terribly drunk and irate, at least not at the same time (HA! Kidding...), but I'm fairly certain that I wouldn't turn into a bigot.

Well, I'm out of sarcasm and anger. Have a good Monday! Ooh, watch Hugh Laurie on Inside the Actor's Studio tonight!!! I will, considering I've already watced all his movies, TV shows, looking into the US release of Black Adder, and read his book. Oh, and ransomed my soul to buy the second season of House. Hmmm. Maybe I have a problem...