Thursday, September 03, 2009
sorry but why
Sorry but why:
Do people watch Dr 90210?
We’re not all doctors, ok. In that not all of us get off watching a dude draw a scalpel across someone’s breasts, or stuff a lipo tube into someone’s thighs, or thread a needle through someone’s new hairline. At close range.
The camera angles on the Discovery Channel have nothing on this crock of shite. And because it’s on during dinner time, forgive me, but I want to vomit up my semi-digested soup and croutons onto the coffee table.
Why do people have to get old?
I’m not even talking about me here. I’m letting go of caring about getting old. By myself. As a spinster. Forever.
I’m talking about my grandparents. My grandfather is very sick at the moment, and they’re not giving him long to live. He’s starting to have renal problems. When the kidneys get uppity, the prognosis is never good. This, I’m afraid, I haven’t mentally prepared for yet.
My poor French grandmother is constantly taking him to hospital. As a result, my mother and I are flying down to Cape Town for an intense all-consuming family weekend on Friday night. No pleasure factor here, I am of fearful dread.
Why are some things completely and insanely unanswerable?
Like how after I’d saved 3 hours of work onto a Word doc, my hardware malfunctioned, simultaneously was faced with the Blue Screen Of Death, and even though I fucking saved it, the words were nowhere to be found on the file?
But the file is still there? Where are my fucking three hours of reports please?
Why is ingesting too much caffeine bad for cellulite, yet there’s caffeine in my Bootcamp For Butts cream?
It’s like not being allowed to eat ice cream, but it’s fine to rub it all over my ass.
Why does this one song remind me of white Y-Fronts?
It really does paint a most unappealing picture in my mind, and there is no reasonable attachment to the song [From Royksopp’s latest album Junior] to the underpants in question.
It’s a fucking fantastic track, and yet, day-in-day-out, it is marred in the William Nicol traffic, by perhaps the worst doondies that ever were ever.
Who’s the arsshole who created Y-Fronts?
He’s ruining my life.
Not that I’m seeing any Y-Fronts in real life or anything, but he’s still ruining my life.