Not So Blonde

Twitter is pissing me off

Twitter is acting like a 2 dollar whore on her lunch break so I decided to post instead. Speaking of Twitter, who wants to tell me how to fix that widget over there on the sidebar? Yeah, didn’t think so.

What would be really fun is to see if all of my bullet points are under 140 characters but that would take more time than I’m willing to devote to… much of anything.

• What is it about putting regular milk in coffee that cools it down to barely tepid temp? Creamer doesn’t do that.
• I think I’m going to stay away from readers. Google reader and whatever else people use.
• All I ever see is people complaining about them or how overwhelmed they feel with the number of “unread” items.
• Back in the olden days when people actually just blog surfed, you could do it at your leisure and/or when you had time.
• I get that readers serve a purpose but I don’t need something else to feel more anxious over.
• I hate when the cats gallop around the house like little mini horses.
• They woke me at 2am this morning doing that shit.
• Might I add, nothing they do grates on my nerves more.
• Well, maybe when they eat my FAKE plants.
• Or when they try to win staring contests.
• I read once that they’re trying to show dominance by staring you down.
• And let me tell you, ain’t no furry little animal gonna be running this joint!
• Pay the rent and then I’ll let you win, mofo.
• I realize I sound like crazy cat lady.
• That’s because… I am crazy cat lady.
• Top Chef last night was interesting.
• The new judge adds a spark that was lacking.
• I think he’s mean/funny and that’s better than just plain mean.
• Maybe its the British accent.
• People can say the meanest shit but if they’ve got an accent it makes you feel like you’re in on the joke.
• Maybe that’s just me.
• Can Jamie puh-leeeeeeeze make something besides soup and scallops?
• Scallop soup is next, just you wait.
• I’m irritated with her always singing her own praises when week after week it’s scallops, scallops, soup, scallops.
• I was actually kind of pulling for Eugene.
• But that was mostly because he reminds me of an ex-boyfriend.
• Complete with all the tattoos.
• I wouldn’t have wanted to eat any of Eugene’s food, though.
• And that ex-boyfriend was an asshole.
• He’s on Facebook, by the way.
• The Eugene-esque ex-boyfriend, not Eugene.
• Well Eugene is probably on there, too.
• EVERYBODY is on Facebook.
• Padma’s ass is probably on Facebook.
• You know Padma is glad to be rid of Gail.

• I know I’m not the only one that gets the impression Padma is one of those women that likes to be the lone chick in the room.
• Cute little Katie Joel wasn’t like that.
• She sure was boring, though.
• Who’s excited for a new season of Millionaire Matchmaker?
• Yeah, me neither.
• I’m not friends with the ex, just so you know.
• The one on Facebook.
• I’m not friends with many exes.
• I don’t hate them, or wish them harm…
• Most of them.
• But I really don’t care to remain friends with them.
• I’m looking at you, Jeana.
• I come more from the school of thought that you can’t move on until you let go.
• And I, for one, sure as hell don’t want any of R’s exes hanging around.
• Make like Mya and mooooooooove on…

With that, I’m off. Make it a good one, kids. xoxo

I have no life, therefore I indulge in way too much reality TV…

I’m simultaneously repulsed, fascinated and bored with this season’s Real Housewives of Orange County.

“Tamra, if you hate me so much why is your hand planted firmly on my ass?”

*snicker*

Repulsed by Vicki & Tamra and their weird, soon-to-implode bitchy clique. And let’s up the repulsion factor by touching on how Tamra practically bones her husband on camera. I guess this is to show millions (?) of viewers they still “got it”. The people that still really “get it”, don’t have to tell (and show) everyone. I’d rather watch Skinemax. Which, I took off the Dish Network account to save money. So, really, instead of watching Tamra and Simoan get each other off on camera, I’d rather watch the blank blue screen where the Skinemax channels USED to be.

Fascinated how Gretchen conducts herself when her supposed fiancee is dying of leukemia. I don’t know what I’d do if R were in the ICU but I’m betting not rubbing my ass on other men and crowing about a new diamond ring. Although, I have to say the last person to sit in judgment is Tamra.

So, fine, I’m not in Gretchen’s stilettos so I don’t know how I’d act with a fiancee in the hospital - true. I do know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I would never use a fountain in Lake Havasu as my “personal bidet” (stole that from the TWoP forums) like Tamra did so classy-like.

Sidenote: Tamra? Pretty much everyone vacationing in Havasu is either from Phoenix, or the O.C. and thereabouts. Attempting to throw up gang signs to represent Orange County? Redundant.

Bored by any time Lynne and her daughters are on camera. My TV turns into this boredom vortex where I long for R to magically appear so he can change the channel to Book TV, or the military channel, or yet another program on the Knights Templar. Once you have seen one, you have NOT seen them all… according to R.

The less boring and annoying one’s (not saying much) boyfriend had True Religion jeans barely clinging to the crook of his… kneecap. This made me chuckle. Far be it from me to say, sheltered chick from the suburbs, but I don’t know if you can be considered GANGSTA in $200 jeans.

And to further explore just how boring boring can be, the two lovebirds go up on the roof alone and … play guitar. Let me tell you, nothing makes me want to spend an evening picking lint from my belly button more than someone appearing with a guitar and start strumming away. More power to you if you play an instrument, just don’t expect me to sit around and compose folksy songs with you.

Sidenote Part II: I’m going to need Bravo to cease promoting Nene’s blog on the OC housewives as I’ve just written more about them in one post than she has all season. And I’m not getting paid for it. What does that tell you about me?

~~~

Joy. New season of Bret Michaels shoving his tongue in skeevy woman’s mouths while professing to look for love when all he’s really looking for is new chicks to cat-fight over who gets to screw his old ass next.

I didn’t devote my full attention to the premiere episode, I think I was too busy pursuing more noble pursuits like uploading new cat photos to Flickr. I did, however, enjoy that Bret seemed to kick off the sluttiest of the sluts… and the sluttiest of all, clad in nothing but a bikini and stripper heels, practically having to be pried off the set. I was waiting for them to turn off the klieg lights and cut to black - and all we could hear is her still whimpering that the buses left her ass. Man I hate getting caught out there in my bikini and stripper heels. SO embarrassing.

Question: Do they take the girls pink and/or LV suitcases off the bus BEFORE or AFTER they get the ixnay? Inquiring minds want to know.

~~~

I’m so annoyed that Top Chef suspended new episodes over the holidays and subjected me to the commercial of what’s to come ad nauseum that I almost want to give up on the show entirely. If I never see Padma shadow dancing while eyeballing the camera as if to say, “I’m so hot, don’t you think I’m hot? I’m way hotter than that porker Gail Simmons”, I will have lived a full and rich life.

SUCH a lie. I’ll be watching tomorrow like I have every… other… bi-week. Anyone else have a craving for a deviled egg?

~~~

Unrelated, but just as obsessed, I love this song. Way more than considered necessary. I even bought the ENTIRE CD from iTunes, I never do that. WTF, Jamie?! Stop making me like you!

By the way, isn’t T.I. still on house arrest? So was the video filmed, like, either at his house or at least on his cul-de-sac? And is there an ankle bracelet under those jeans? A parole officer jogging alongside the Rolls? Just wondering.