"He'll sit there and go, Dipsy... Po... Dipsy... Po. I honestly don't think he knows colors. Just Teletubbies."


Hrm. Won't be blogging as much today due to the fact that I'm going with my cousin Angie to a boat launching, which is supposed to be Very Cool. (My brother went to one in the summer and my uncle got it on tape and it made a very big splash-- I like big splashes-- and apparently it's even cooler when they launch them in the winter.)

Also, I believe we'll be eating lunch at McDonald's. I know it's bad for you and all, but my plan is to eat as many greasy French fries as I can before my metabolism slows down when I'm old. (No, I really don't like the idea of my metabolism slowing down and having to eat things that aren't entirely carbohydrates. Oh, god, I suppose I still will, I'll just go for a run afterward or something.)

Oh, gods. That last sentence? Made me really depressed. And now I may have to second-guess my extra fries.
No. Sorry about that. I lied. Still eating greasy fries.

I thought Lauren Holly was Kathie Lee Gifford when the previews for Just Desserts came on the TV Guide Channel (aka the Lesley Ann Machado Channel) for no reason at all yesterday. That was frightening.

Also: I'm beginning to think my mother is truly deranged. I called my dog a butthead (I know, I'm so mature) today, and she said, "don't call your mother a butthead!" and acted all offended using, "well, unh-unh-unh" noises. Oh, gods.

I'm off to watch my tape of Patricia Clarkson's interview on The View.
Yes, that depresses me also, "The View" part.


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