I need to murder my television. Some of you limp-wristed cheese-eaters would suggest that I simply unplug it, but pacifism is for the weak. I want the visceral sensation of cold delicious murder to thrill through my body.
I mean did you SEE American Idol last week?!
I kid, I don’t watch American Idol, but lately that seems to be about the only thing I don’t. I’ve fallen into a rut of working 12 hour days and then crashing on the weekends, rarely moving from my couch and watching The Cosby Show over and over again. I’ve recently transitioned from, “Ohhhh, I remember this one!” to “Ohhhh, I remember this one…from last night.” Then, come Monday morning, I have The Remorse, and think about all the things I was going to do over the weekend…like go for a bike ride or get the basic ingredients of food (if you’ve ever wondered how long you can subsist on saved McDonald’s ketchup packets and one box of penne, I have the data to show you).
So, to prove my motivation to get the hell out of the house, I mortally wounded my television, bounced off the couch…and ran to my laptop to type this. Ah, but NOW I’m going outside for real!
After I check weather.com