I think Friday nights make me want to die. Last Friday, for example. What did I do? I spent Friday night shopping for a frickin' love seat, eating KFC for dinner, watching Basic Instinct because I had never seen it before, and falling asleep early. Here are further details on why it made me want to die:
Love Seat Shopping: We went to those two godawful liquidation furniture stores on Clark Street where everything looks nice but in reality is flimsy and cheap. At the first store no one would help us. Marshmallow (G's new nickname; you can imagine how much he loves this) said it was a race thing, and probably it was, so he was cranky after that. I said, "Oh, Marshmallow, don't be cranky," which obviously didn't help. At the second store the salesman tried to bond with us by comparing our kittycat to his kittycat. Then he tried to connect with us further by showing us a rug that was the size of our entire living room and featured--yes--a gigantic portrait of a lion's face. He really thought we should, and would, buy this rug. All of the love seats there looked like they had been dragged up from the basement of a high school party. Every time he showed us one, I said: "No, I hate that one" without feeling bad at all. He also tried to show us a puffy purple chair that was like a throne, and also several futons, which he seemed to be implying would somehow substitute for a love seat. Then his boss came out from the back room where he probably lives, and said: "You like love seat. You buy love seat right now. You take it right now. Right now." He sucked even worse than the first guy, so we went back to the first store and ordered one from the racist salesman for too much money.
KFC: We got a bucket of chicken and a gigantic bin of mashed potatoes and another gigantic bin of macaroni and cheese. I love KFC mashed potatoes because they taste like paste--I really think this makes them delicious because it makes the gravy seem gourmet. The cheese sauce is also frickin' amazing because it is orange as a sunset or a popsicle and obviously super-artificially colored and flavored. The receipt said that I could win 1,000 bucks if I called in and did their survey, so I did it because I know no one ever does those surveys and I was certain I would win, just like how I think I'll always win the Little Lotto because I don't think anyone would play that either. I didn't win anything, though, and it made me way angrier than it should have. Especially because I gave them a perfect score on everything, which should not have been the case.
Basic Instinct: This is my new favorite movie, I think, except for the ending with the icepick under the bed, which ruins the whole thing. I had somehow never seen it before. I'm sort of scared that I think it's awesome, because I have a feeling that it's probably a really bad movie and everyone knows this except me. If it were in French, and subtitled, it would be even better. It is the only movie I've ever liked Michael Douglass in, although I still can't figure out why anyone would ever want to fuck him. He looks like a game show host.
8 comments:
i know, michael douglas--what is that? i have a plan:
i am going to change my netflix subscription from one at a time to five at a time. then i am going to turn on the electric blanket and not turn it off or leave the house until spring. except when i come over to sit on your new loveseat.
let's sit in your apartment and smoke and pretend like we're writing even though we're really just thinking about television.
electric blankets eat your brains like zombies.
thinking about television makes your brain enormous and then it explodes.
I secretly love Michael Douglas. It's because I used to watch this detective show from the 70s that starred him, and he was superhot in it. Michael Douglas is superhot in the 70s. Best believe.
i hate my friday nights lately too. we have not had a friday night VL meeting in ages and therefore my friday nights are lame.
i spent part of last friday night sitting in a veterinarians office. i waited for an hour past the appointment time and then the vet did the quickest "check up" i have ever experienced. for this, they happily charged me $125 and practically pushed me out of the door because the clinic was closing.
this put me in a bad mood and i then went home and laid on the couch and watched an america's next top model marathon, which made me realize that i am not very pretty. but it also made me realize that i am not very dumb. and it kind of made me wish that i was very pretty and very dumb instead of not very pretty and not very dumb.
and michael douglas does look like a game show host! i am surprised to hear that he was hot in the 70s. i am now imagining him as a creepy game show host in the 70s like richard dawson, who always tried to make out with the female contestants on family feud.
I dislike the weekend as well. I think they would be more fun if I could unpack the contents of Bruce Springsteen's first album and scatter them like ashes on the wind, and play around in the "[sites] of the sun."
"got me a nice little place in the stars..." His lyrics were so much more fun before he knew he was the spokesman for an entire social class.
Okay, I rue the day that I ever went on vacation and Kathy posted that picture of Bruce Springsteen on the site, which has now snowballed into open adulation of someone I just don't like.
i hate friday night too
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