I am toying with the idea of doing a "year in review" post, but that would require me to try and recall any happenings older than two months old. It's a stiff task to say the least. I will have to consider whether I actually want to do it or not.
So what's the Cheetos cheetah on about? Eh? Chester's a bit of a wild card. Talk about a cool cat. He wears sunglasses. Also, he engages in dangerous extreme sports and, if his more recent commercials are any indicator, seems to support a healthy amount of hooliganism from his consumers. Keep it spicy, Chester. Furthermore, have you visited the Cheetos website? In my extensive research for this paragraph, I did just that. The top headline? "Stolen Jewelry Found In Cheetos Bag." Hey-oh! If that's not solid advertising, I really don't know what is. Way to capture the hard to reach 18-35 year old white male crowd. Evidently several New Jersey teens stole $7 thousand worth of jewelry and hid it in a Cheetos bag in their apartment. Given New Jersey's residents' well-documented decision-making track record, do you suppose that at any point they accidently stole $7 thousand worth of Cheetos and hid it in a jewelry bag? I sure hope so. Another fun fact? One of the other main stories on Cheetos.com is about a New Jersey-based environmental firm that develops speakers from recycled Cheetos bags. New Jersey is clearly doing its part to discover new uses for former snack reticules. Step it up, rest of the continental US.
What did you do yesterday? I did nothing. And Kevin Garnett said that was impossible. . . .
A couple of weeks ago, I was taking finals at school when I got an interesting assignment from a professor. He required that our final paper be turned in at sunset on a Sunday. At first, I was annoyed. What does sunset even mean? I wanted a little more structure. However, upon much reflection, I realized that this was how I wish all deadlines would be given. Because, in the end, the deadline of sunset sounds like a rendezvous, which is awesome and fun to say. I like where my professor went with it, but maybe it could be more exciting. Let's get a train involved. Also, a riddle wouldn't hurt. Make me feel like my expose on organizational communication is actually a list of the numerical launch codes required to make Kim Jong Il knock it the heck off. I'm not saying you should hire trench coated men with accents and scars to stop the delivery of my paper (though I am open to the idea); just make me feel like James Bond. Once. I guess that's the point of my college experience, really. I want to feel like I'm in Her Majesty's Secret Service. Nick Nack and Jaws? I'm in. Maybe they will make an appearance. Doesn't hurt to ask. Although I don't know how you are going to get into contact with Herve Villechaize.
I was reading my old posts the other day (because I am a proponent of hilarity), and I realized something. I have a bear fixation. Nothing serious (I hope), but it's there. There seems to be some evidence that, if I turn some of my attention to orcas (which I pronounce "orchas" because it is fun to do so), I will be able to continue on in my life in a normal fashion. I probably shouldn't even make this observation, but orcas are a lot like panda bears. Except they spend more time in water. And less time eating bamboo shoots. Also, there is the whole fur difference.
Oh, I nearly forgot. Happy Christmas y'all.
"Your soul is an appalling dump heap overflowing with the most disgraceful assortment of deplorable rubbish imaginable, mangled up in tangled up knots."
-Theodore "Dr. Seuss" Geisel, in his song, "You're A Mean One, Mister Grinch." The term grinch is often used to describe people who despise Christmas, especially those who are parsimonious around Christmas time. That's you, people who give underwear as a gift.
