Fizzy Water. I have a small addiction. I used to have a large addiction. That was to nicotine. The small addiction is to carbonated water. You see, giving up nicotine is a lot like hitting yourself repeatedly in the head with a baseball bat that someone has lovingly hammered 5 inch nails through. It’s not so much that the desire to smoke is over-powering (it’s strong, but most times you realize that actually sucking down a cigarette makes you feel worse than you did) as it is that you, well….lose all control of your emotions and become a ranting, raving, possibly stampeding, angry elephant with sharp tusks every time something goes wrong. One minute fine, next minute FUCK OFF. So you have to retrain yourself to, you know, not flip out like a idiot every time you drop your pen. It’s kind of like being two years old and realizing that pitching a fit on the grocery store floor is only going to get you spanked – and by that I mean it sucks.
Revolving Doors. I am abso-fucking-lutely terrified of them. The rest of the population goes dashing through them like this is a completely normal thing to do. Am I the only person in the world who recognizes these aberrations for the incarnation of unholiness that God himself would spit upon (and, in fact, probably will when he comes to earth to personally damn and escort the inventor to hell – that is, if God takes an interest in revolving doors) that they undoubtedly are?!? Are there no other sane people out there? No…? Okay, I suppose it probably bears noting that this may, in fact, be a personal problem. And to be quite honest, I can’t actually remember anything bad happening to me in or even near one of them. No recollection of getting pinched, or stuck between doors, or any other of the multitude of heinous ways to die that flit through my brain every and require me to take deep breathes and count to ten every single time I have to walk through one of these god-forsaken sideways rat wheels. I take this as evidence that not only are revolving doors evil, but they give off an aura that only I have been blessed to sense.
All bow before the Mistress of all the is Good and Evil. And Lettuce.
Cher. Okay, so maybe this one isn't so much of a secret. And maybe it hasn't actually been a secret ever since I serenaded every non-hearing-impaired person in downtown Minneapolis with random selections of her catalog from the window of a cab at 3 in the morning. And maybe "If I Could Turn Back Time" sounds better when the singer is not slobbering drunk and trying to pick up the guy on the corner at the same time. And maybe George W. Bush is an awesome guy. But I think you may be reaching. Come on people! This woman sold hair products while wearing a wig. SHE IS THAT FUCKING GOOD. And she wants some love.