Thursday, Jun. 22, 2006

Fluffy!


What we're about to have here is a version of short-attention-span theater that I like to call...

Sorry, where was I?

Oh, yeah.

... that I like to call Brain Fluff. You know, kind of like dandelion fluff that gets blown around, carried on the wind but really has nowhere in particular to go? Only, in my brain. And, maybe after you read it, yours too.

***

We listen to the radio, where I work. And, it's a very important part of our day, for most of us. Sure, there's a few grumblers who either prefer to work in silence (no, I don't know what the Hell's wrong with them) or who take issue with the breed of music that's on. We're actually pretty laid back about genre, on the whole, since the Having of the music is more important than the Kind. So, most of us can tolerate whatever, from country to pop to oldies to blues to soft rock. As mentioned, some folks grumble about having to put up with country music, but we collectively roll our eyes and everyone Gets Over It.

Anyhow. One of the stupid morning DJs proposed a "death is not an option" question, and it went a little something like this:

If you had to choose, would you rather --
1) have your entire skin shed off once a year, where it would take a whole week and you could NOT go into hiding (you'd have to go to work/school, go get groceries, do normal stuff), or

2) have to go into hibernation for a month every year and you would NOT be able to explain the real reason for your absence to anyone.

My coworker across the lab bench immediately said she'd go with #2, but I disagreed. "Shedding your skin wouldn't hurt. Plus, if anyone looked at me funny, I'd just say, "Really BAD Sunburn!" and go about my business. Plus, I'm an Aquarius, so I'm into shock value. People would be all "ew!", and I'd think that was hilarious."

She laughed and said, "I can see you doing that."

Wouldn't that be awesome? I could carry around a giant bottle of lotion, which of course would not work, since I wouldn't be dealing with dry skin at all. And I could just pull off these giant sheets of dead skin, ball them up non-chalantly and toss them in the garbage while whistling a jaunty tune. All while people look on, a mixture of horror and disgusted fascination on their faces, while I pretend not to notice.

I think I love playing with people's heads a little too much. Maybe.

***

Can we PLEASE call a moratorium on the "baby-watch" pictures of female celebrities? The ones that spring up on EVERY entertainment mag and rag in the world?! Please?!

Great gods on orange bicycles, folks. I was at the store two days ago and some rag had a picture of Jennifer Aniston and a giant headline, in, like 78-point font, "IS SHE PREGNANT?" And, below the full-length shot, was a blow-up of her midsection, with a white circle around her lower belly. There was the tiniest hint of a curve, which could actually have been the fabric of her dress billowing up a little.

Firstly, how f'ed up is it that, if an actress displays even a ghost of normal human curvature, it's turned into a Big Freaking Deal? She could be a little bloated, or the camera angle could be strange, or... Hell, maybe she's just a human.

Secondly, so what if she is pregnant? That's her business, and turning her tummy into a canvas for a John-Madden-esque football play diagram, with chalk circles and x's and swooping arrows and smiley faces and crap isn't going to get you invited to her baby shower. Get it?

Sheesh.

***

Just a thought -- if someone comes up to you and asks you to participate in a little game called "Name That Meat" -- don't. Just... don't.

***

Is that fluffy enough for you? I think my bed has finally cooled enough that it is no longer molten lava and I might actually be able to lay on it. 104 degrees + no A/C = oh, holy crap, I'm just going to sit here and wilt like the delicate daisy that I am.

Ahem.

Anyhow, a pleasant night to you all...

saturncat at 10:50 p.m.

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