i had a doctor's appointment this morning. it involved getting blood drawn. getting blood drawn involved a man born on november 4, 1928 who described himself as 'one of those people who always has an umbrella over his head, even when things are going well' (yes, his 75 pound brother fell out of bed several times while he was dying of cancer; yes, his wife has osteoporosis and she is waiting in the car; yes, he's being audited by the irs for the third time; no, he doesn't work for the railroad, never has, and he isn't nine m'kay?) and a very lovely looking indian phlebotomist who was apparently a pathological liar and therefore mistrusting and therefore he didn't believe me when i said he needed to use a butterfly needle on me and that i am VERY allergic to tape/bandaids and pleasefortheloveofgod, i don't want one on my arm, even if it has daffy duck on it. i had recently a giant cup of coffee and no breakfast (ergo a very fast heartbeat at my appointment), i was down a vial of blood and had only an itchy arm to show for it... needless to say, my morning got off to a rough start. and then, driving home, i unfortunately passed out from blood loss and while out cold, i reimagined myself in a terrible alternate universe where women sing irritating and catchy tunes about buying the men they love rogaine.
have i mentioned that there is very little new music on mainstream radio that is worth listening to in my opinion? no? well, let me mention it now. not once, but twice today, i heard ingrid michaelson go on about how her guy takes her the way she is. and yet, in wonderful lowbrow rhyme-style she plans to 'buy [him] rogaine if [he] start[s] losing all [his] hair. /sew on patches to all [he] tear[s].' what!? she cannot accept him the way he is? come on ingrid the song is called 'the way i am.' she does promise to find him a match if he needs a light, but boy, this girl has herself some major double standards!
y'all, put your smelling salts away, i'm about to knock myself unconscious, intentionally.
have i mentioned that there is very little new music on mainstream radio that is worth listening to in my opinion? no? well, let me mention it now. not once, but twice today, i heard ingrid michaelson go on about how her guy takes her the way she is. and yet, in wonderful lowbrow rhyme-style she plans to 'buy [him] rogaine if [he] start[s] losing all [his] hair. /sew on patches to all [he] tear[s].' what!? she cannot accept him the way he is? come on ingrid the song is called 'the way i am.' she does promise to find him a match if he needs a light, but boy, this girl has herself some major double standards!
y'all, put your smelling salts away, i'm about to knock myself unconscious, intentionally.