I’m sort of slacking on this whole blogging thing. I have some dating quips to share and ANOTHER humiliating story. I’ll get to those just as soon as I find my way out of this bottle of Shiraz.
I promise.
Look at me making promises I may or may not keep.
Until then, you can read this week’s “That’s What She Said” for In Utah This Week. You can also check out what I’ve been doing over at Aiming Low here and here.
“Summer, change of plans. I can’t make the gym tonight. I’m going to be busy killing myself.”
“Umm… that’s not OK! How about I just kill you at the gym?”
“I don’t think you understand the severity of my situation. I just did the math and had I gotten knocked up in high school I could have an 18-year-old right now.”
“Wow.”
“I’m the oldest, single, childless woman I know. I AM GOING TO DIE ALONE, so I think I’ll just go ahead and get it over with now. I’m going to leave you my womb. Please clear out the cobwebs and put the little fucker to good use.”
“Sarah, it’s time to shut the hell up. You’re not going to die alone.”
“Yes I am! I just heard it on NPR.”
“Well I guess if NPR said it, it must be true.”
“I KNOW, Liberal media never lies.”
My friend Scott and I have been friends for 10 years, so it pains me to write this next part.
Scott is a total asshole.
I’m soooo mad at him right now. Not “I’m going to flip you off” mad, but rather “I’m going to jack your shit up in a knife fight” mad.
Yeah, this is serious business.
I told Scott that I was confident if I were to meet Bon Jovi, he’d totally fall for me. Bon Jovi seems like the kind of guy who would appreciate a smart, funny and somewhat neurotic woman. Not at all like that Bret Michaels who only goes for STD-ridden hookers with bad grammar.
“Sarah you’re kidding me with this Bon Jovi shit, right? He’s been married to the same woman for 20 years.”
CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT?
Friends are supposed to be supportive. He should have said agreed and then helped formulate a plan for us to meet.
So I’m like, “I HATE YOU SO MUCH RIGHT NOW. I’m younger and that means things are tighter. If nothing else Bon Jovi would want to be my new BFF. You’re out Scott. He’s in.”
“Fine, Sarah, I will try and friend him on FaceBook. I’ll keep you posted.”
FaceBook? That’s the best he can do? That’s lousy. If the situation were reversed I’d be starting trends on Twitter, sending Bon Jovi kittens with Scott’s name shaved into their fur and generally stalking the shit out of him.
I’d make an impression.
NOT friend him on FaceBook.
Friends are bullshit, man. OBVIOUSLY.
My column for In Utah This Week is about my mission to rid the world of smoking. Yeah, yeah… I’m THAT asshole, which shouldn’t be all that surprising.
April Fool’s Day is the weirdest day. A day where we are encouraged to lie to one another? Um, no thanks. I already have that in my life.
It’s called dating.
Isn’t that enough of a joke? Apparently not enough for everyone, so the tradition continues. As does my confusion.
Every year I wait for a press conference where someone of authority stands up and announces–with jazz hands–what items of interest were an April Fool’s Day joke all along.
Ahem, Sarah Palin
Harem pants
Decaf coffee
Heidi Montag’s career
Low-fat ice cream
The pursuit of happiness
“American Idol”
MSN Bing
Mazda Miatas
These have to be jokes. I mean who really thinks happiness and Heidi Montag’s career are real. No one is that gullible, right?
