In three hours, a playwright is coming over to interview me about my weird-ass religious beliefs. I told her to come over here because I thought it might be helpful for her to see my religious accouterments. Everything I have that is of any interest in that regard is in my bedroom. No problem, she says. Which just goes to show that it’s oh so easy to get cute chicks upstairs, but I still for the life of me can’t figure out how to entice the Wayward Boy Scout into straying into my boudoir*.
Anyway, today, I should pick up and do the dishes.
Instead, I’ve been to the park. I took a nap. I ate some lunch. I blogged. I sat around outside. I did some laundry. I laughed hard at Preston Taylor Holmes’s** live-blogging of his garage sale and then at the ensuing comments. I’ll admit that, usually, Six Meat Buffet is not that interesting to me***, because almost every post is reducible to: "See how much those hypocritical liberals suck and cannot wait to enact their commie pinko genocide of America? We should round them all up and shoot them."
But the liveblogging of the garage sale? Genius. And I say that as a person predisposed to snottily dismiss anything written over there.
Anyway, I’m nervous and excited about the interview. I just hope I don’t come off like a doofus. But I guess, at heart, everyone’s religious beliefs are a little doofussy to outsiders. I do need to pick up some, though.
*I guess he’s not wayward enough to suit me.
**Is it just me or would The Preston Taylor Homes be the perfect name for some public housing?
***Not like they’re sitting around waiting for Tiny Cat Pants to update, either, in all fairness.