Brought to you by the letter A, for Awesome.
I want to write a blog because I'll never get any money from Warren Buffett if I don't keep up with the awesomeness, but nothing is really happening around here that's worth writing about.
Like that's ever stopped me before. I know what you're thinking. Whatever, at least I write in my blog so you can kill a few minutes when you should probably be doing something more important like cleaning behind your toilet. Or maybe that's just me.
I went to the eye doctor the other day because I was on my last pair of contacts and also could not see, and he was like, the problem is that your eyes are shaped like footballs instead of basketballs and now you have to wear contacts made for that. So I got contacts made for football eyes and they're terrible. I can't see because they are constantly fogged up, and I have to keep cleaning them all day. And then it looks like I've been crying, and that's stupid. And I get to pay extra for this pleasure. Fantastic. Also while I was at the eye doctor he dropped some stuff on the ground instead of the trash and then he was like, "I'm not going to pick that up right now, I don't want to touch the floor. That's why Arabs don't play basketball. It's not in our genes." Ahahaha, Eye Doctor, you kill me.
A few weekends ago I went to the rodeo and that was pretty awesome. Those tricky tickets said no cameras, so we did not take any cameras, and then when we were at the rodeo everyone and their brother had like giant professional sized, definitely not snuck-in, cameras. Those rodeo tricksters. This is to say, there are no pictures of me at the rodeo, and that's too bad because I got back to my country roots and wore cowboy boots and basically looked like a total natural. Ok, but let's talk about the rodeo and how it's kind of mean. I liked the bull riding and the bucking broncos and all that but I have a little bit of a problem with calf roping and goat tying. Those poor calves and goats. Sometimes after they were tied they'd break free and I'd be like, "Yeah! Go, goat! Yaaaaaay!" Only not really because it was cold and I was sick. But in my mind, I was rooting for those goats.
Oh, and I got this tattoo:
But it was made out of Sharpie so it's gone now, so no need to write me out of your wills or anything. But when I had that tattoo, I felt pretty tough. Like if you messed with me, I might punch you in your face. I didn't punch anyone in the face while I was inked but I bet if I had, people would've been pretty understanding about it, on account of how rad I was. Now I'm just normal again.
I gave up shopping for Lent and in preparation I bought everything I thought I might need for the next 40 days, and that included a shirt with a dinosaur on it, a depression glass plate, a book about cooking using ratios, pink glass beads, 2 pairs of flip flops, tile nippers and a mini blender. And probably more that I can't think of at the moment. Because that's how I roll.
Also, only 73 days until I leave for my beach vacation. Oh, yeah, I can't wait. I'm going to learn to surf.
I have to go now because it's time to clean my contacts or claw out my eyes; I haven't decided which.
Like that's ever stopped me before. I know what you're thinking. Whatever, at least I write in my blog so you can kill a few minutes when you should probably be doing something more important like cleaning behind your toilet. Or maybe that's just me.
I went to the eye doctor the other day because I was on my last pair of contacts and also could not see, and he was like, the problem is that your eyes are shaped like footballs instead of basketballs and now you have to wear contacts made for that. So I got contacts made for football eyes and they're terrible. I can't see because they are constantly fogged up, and I have to keep cleaning them all day. And then it looks like I've been crying, and that's stupid. And I get to pay extra for this pleasure. Fantastic. Also while I was at the eye doctor he dropped some stuff on the ground instead of the trash and then he was like, "I'm not going to pick that up right now, I don't want to touch the floor. That's why Arabs don't play basketball. It's not in our genes." Ahahaha, Eye Doctor, you kill me.
A few weekends ago I went to the rodeo and that was pretty awesome. Those tricky tickets said no cameras, so we did not take any cameras, and then when we were at the rodeo everyone and their brother had like giant professional sized, definitely not snuck-in, cameras. Those rodeo tricksters. This is to say, there are no pictures of me at the rodeo, and that's too bad because I got back to my country roots and wore cowboy boots and basically looked like a total natural. Ok, but let's talk about the rodeo and how it's kind of mean. I liked the bull riding and the bucking broncos and all that but I have a little bit of a problem with calf roping and goat tying. Those poor calves and goats. Sometimes after they were tied they'd break free and I'd be like, "Yeah! Go, goat! Yaaaaaay!" Only not really because it was cold and I was sick. But in my mind, I was rooting for those goats.
Oh, and I got this tattoo:
I gave up shopping for Lent and in preparation I bought everything I thought I might need for the next 40 days, and that included a shirt with a dinosaur on it, a depression glass plate, a book about cooking using ratios, pink glass beads, 2 pairs of flip flops, tile nippers and a mini blender. And probably more that I can't think of at the moment. Because that's how I roll.
Also, only 73 days until I leave for my beach vacation. Oh, yeah, I can't wait. I'm going to learn to surf.
I have to go now because it's time to clean my contacts or claw out my eyes; I haven't decided which.
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