If you've been idly wondering, "Gee, where has ElleVee been this week?" I have an answer. Not an excuse, but a completely justified answer: Pink Eye.
What is pink eye, you ask? Good question. Our friends at Wikipedia define it as,
What the article fails to explain is the sensation of getting up in the middle of the night with discomfort in your eyes, flipping on the bathroom light, and falling down at the excruciating pain piercing your skull like a knife. The article fails to describe having to wear sunglasses indoor, and being unable to look at any light at all without sobbing in agony. The article also fails to mention the utter delight of walking straight into the side of your car, and ending up sprawled on your ass in your driveway while your mother tries desperately not to laugh.
Poor Wikipedia, so incomplete. But yes, that's been the past few days for me. Unable to read, unable to watch TV, unable to go on my computer without mind-shattering pain.
So I apologize for the lack of blogging over the past few days, but pink eye pwned my sorry ass, and I was stuck in a bored daze for a while.
But I'm back! And I'm healing! The computer is no longer my enemy! Oh, computer, I knew you wouldn't betray me!
And on a completely unrelated note, I wonder if John McCain showed Joe Biden his collection of human skulls during the tour of the Vice-Presidential mansion, or if he's just going to throw them under Biden's bedcovers as a welcome surprise.
Finally, Sarah Palin made a nasty comment about bloggers sitting in their parent's basement, writing in their pajamas. And my rebuttal: Well, Ms. Palin, what's wrong with that? Who says I can't writing biting, clever political observations and profound philosophical statements in my New School sweatshirt and Life Is Good pajama bottoms with the snowboarding dogs? Who are you to judge me? Would you prefer if I mocked you while wearing a suit? Or pointed out your grammatical and factual errors dressed in a nice skirt and heels? Would that ease the pain?
And have you SEEN my parents' basement? It's pretty sweet. It has a bed, and a big TV with a DVD player, and I have my own bathroom. And it's much better than living in a basement apartment with giant roaches intent on crawling in any unprotected orifice, and giant nuclear rats bent on world domination. True, I can't hunt moose from my basement, but we all have to deal with certain sacrifices, RIGHT? In conclusion, fuck you, you lost, shut the hell up, go back to obscurity, and stop talking about shit you don't understand. YOU DON'T KNOW MY LIFE. Plus, you named your kid TRIG. Which makes me think of trigonometry, which really isn't the image a child wants to conjure when going through life. I'm just saying - your judgement is a little suspect.
OK. I feel better now.
- LV
PS Madagascar: Escape 2 Africa may be the most disturbing film ever released. Have you ever seen hippo foreplay? No? I have. And let me tell you - it is not the thing you want to put your eyes through when they've just started to heal from pink eye.
PPSS I had to write an article on the movie. I went under extreme duress. And I didn't pay. So my smug superiority is intact. Huzzah!
What is pink eye, you ask? Good question. Our friends at Wikipedia define it as,
Conjunctivitis (commonly called "Pink Eye" or "Red Eye" in North America, and "Madras eye" in India) is an inflammation of the conjunctiva (the outermost layer of the eye and the inner surface of the eyelids), most commonly due to an allergic reaction or an infection (usually viral, but sometimes bacterial).
What the article fails to explain is the sensation of getting up in the middle of the night with discomfort in your eyes, flipping on the bathroom light, and falling down at the excruciating pain piercing your skull like a knife. The article fails to describe having to wear sunglasses indoor, and being unable to look at any light at all without sobbing in agony. The article also fails to mention the utter delight of walking straight into the side of your car, and ending up sprawled on your ass in your driveway while your mother tries desperately not to laugh.
Poor Wikipedia, so incomplete. But yes, that's been the past few days for me. Unable to read, unable to watch TV, unable to go on my computer without mind-shattering pain.
So I apologize for the lack of blogging over the past few days, but pink eye pwned my sorry ass, and I was stuck in a bored daze for a while.
But I'm back! And I'm healing! The computer is no longer my enemy! Oh, computer, I knew you wouldn't betray me!
And on a completely unrelated note, I wonder if John McCain showed Joe Biden his collection of human skulls during the tour of the Vice-Presidential mansion, or if he's just going to throw them under Biden's bedcovers as a welcome surprise.
Finally, Sarah Palin made a nasty comment about bloggers sitting in their parent's basement, writing in their pajamas. And my rebuttal: Well, Ms. Palin, what's wrong with that? Who says I can't writing biting, clever political observations and profound philosophical statements in my New School sweatshirt and Life Is Good pajama bottoms with the snowboarding dogs? Who are you to judge me? Would you prefer if I mocked you while wearing a suit? Or pointed out your grammatical and factual errors dressed in a nice skirt and heels? Would that ease the pain?
And have you SEEN my parents' basement? It's pretty sweet. It has a bed, and a big TV with a DVD player, and I have my own bathroom. And it's much better than living in a basement apartment with giant roaches intent on crawling in any unprotected orifice, and giant nuclear rats bent on world domination. True, I can't hunt moose from my basement, but we all have to deal with certain sacrifices, RIGHT? In conclusion, fuck you, you lost, shut the hell up, go back to obscurity, and stop talking about shit you don't understand. YOU DON'T KNOW MY LIFE. Plus, you named your kid TRIG. Which makes me think of trigonometry, which really isn't the image a child wants to conjure when going through life. I'm just saying - your judgement is a little suspect.
OK. I feel better now.
- LV
PS Madagascar: Escape 2 Africa may be the most disturbing film ever released. Have you ever seen hippo foreplay? No? I have. And let me tell you - it is not the thing you want to put your eyes through when they've just started to heal from pink eye.
PPSS I had to write an article on the movie. I went under extreme duress. And I didn't pay. So my smug superiority is intact. Huzzah!
0 comments:
Post a Comment