Wednesday, January 10, 2007

I Blame the Internet

I really do blame the internet….I told you all to sacrifice chipmunks and eat rancid bat meat to appease the football gods and you all obviously did not listen. Do I really ask all that much of you internet? DO I? No, I didn’t think so, and yet you STILL could not do this one little thing for me. You suck, internet. And so does OSU (Secret Side note to OSU…just kidding…I really do love you….please don’t use this against me and loose to Michigan next year just out of spite).

Oh…and need I mention that the less said to me about how Ohio State played in that god forsaken football game, the better. Seriously…I will hurt you. My only football hope left is The Bears. Yeah…um…shut up. That’s it…I officially haaatteee football. Football sucks as much as the internet. (Secret side note to football: I totally love you…please do not forsake me next year…pleeeeease…I’m begging you).

Now, add “The Football Game that Shall Never be Mentioned Again By ANYONE at ANYTIME” to the fact that I did something horrible to my back and it hurts like holy hell and is causing me to do nothing but lay down and pop pain meds like they’re tic-tacs and you can imagine the living hell that has become poor Nick’s existence. I’m sure it’s only a matter of hours before “Can you please let the puppy out? I would totally be willing to get up and do it, but I can’t because I’m in pain and I really, really would do it, but you know I probably shouldn’t move because I might make the back angry and it would hurt more and while you’re up could you please bring me spinach dip and wine?” starts wearing pretty damn thin.

Although…I’ve got to say, there’s something to this whole “my back hurts, please bring me stuff” thing. I do believe that I have a god given talent for laying about on my ass while other people do stuff for me. I think I might very well do this better than just about anyone. However, I think that by the time I get home Nick will probably have already read this and I’ll have to get my own damn wine.

Crap.

And I’ll probably have to let the dog out my own damn self.

Double Crap.

I’m also positive that there is no spinach dip in the house and we’re probably out of wine.

Crap. Crap. Crapity Crap.

Anywhooooo, since I really can’t think of anything to write about at this particular moment because there are exactly 132 cupcakes directly across from my office mocking me right now and they’re all I can think about. Well, that and the fact that my back really does hurt means that I’m going to just stop already with this bullshit entry and come up with something spectacular tomorrow. Or maybe just crap-tacular…depends on my mood at this point.

Side Note: no…really, there are 132 cupcakes right here in this very building at this very moment…I’ll prove it to you):


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