2004-01-22
12:50 a.m.
I'm finally going to the doctor tomorrow to figure out what is wrong with my throat. I hope my $10 copay yields an antibiodics prescription and no news of cancer. (I'm actually scared they'll tell me I've got cancer.) Yesterday Davy walked into the living room to find our two-year-old with a carton of eggs. Most of the eggs were rolling around unharmed on the couch but 3 were smashed on the carpet. We had just Rug Doctored, too. That stuff actually sort of rolls off our backs now. Like when he smears peanut butter and yogurt into the upholstery we just go "Huh. Look at that. I'll get the Oxy-Clean and you give him a time out." Okay, to be honest we don't even bother getting the Oxy-Clean most of the time. Our poor sofa is mottled with mysterious substances, quite beyond repair. Before the baby we wouldn't even put our feet up on the couch, and now look at it.
Ryan Seacrest is preposterous! That is the only word for him. His stupid flat-ironed hair and trucker hats and big dimples that make him look like a slab of cheese when he smiles - he needs a wedgie. Speaking of trucker hats, the new Jason Mraz song and video are annoying. But that Jessica Simpson song that goes "nothing but a t-shirt on" - now that is bad. It almost makes the Jason Mraz song look like "Where the Streets Have No Name."
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