is that you run out of blog fodder quite regularly.
I consider myself a somewhat intelligent person, however, I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I'm pretty much only concerned with food, exercise and reality television. Like I said, shallow. I like politics, too. But that's a touchy subject.
Every now and then I get bitten by some sort of bug that lights a fire beneath me and I come up with something interesting to say. Usually that means I need to read or hear something that makes me mad, which in turn, inspires me to have a thought provoking conversation with myself on this very blog.
Maybe it's all this peace and goodwill stuff around the Christmas season that has permitted me from getting angry. Well, I did read another blog post yesterday regarding the quiverfull/if you use birth control you're an egregious heathen sinner who hates children movement that tweaked me a bit, but I was in a hurry and didn't have enough time to go full out ape crazy. You can thank me now.
Thankfully The Biggest Loser and The Bachelor both start next week. Don't laugh. I know you want to, but please refrain. I only watch for entertainment purposes. No, really. I'm not lying.
I usually end up hating every bachelor (and most of the bachelorettes) before long. However, if you must know, the title of Most Hated Bachelor of All Time is reserved for Jesse Palmer.
Man, I hated him.
I can't see his face on tv without wanting to throw something.
Anyway, I am SO looking forward to this installment of The Bachelor because they have chosen the cheesiest, drippiest, most milquetoast bachelor ever. It's sure to be a dull fest; watching paint dry might be more exciting. Oh, who am I kidding. I'm going to love every cheesy minute; every platitude; every utterance of the word connection and soul mate; every staged line and ridiculous "fantasty" date.
It makes my snarky heart happy.
The new bachelor, jake, who was a cast off from the previous season, has been over heard saying that God called him to be the bachelor. This is going to be so much fun! Sure it'll be ridiculous, but the post show snark is guaranteed to fill my snark tank to overflow capacity.
Do you know what the worst part is? Jake is a pilot and the show is sub-titled "On the Wings of Love." Doesn't that just make you want to barf?
Oh, I can't wait for the fun to begin.
And that, my friends, is more than likely the saddest thing you've ever read.
Our post Christmas weekend was most definitely uneventful. Caroline spent Saturday night across the street at her friend's house. Since Craig and I are such party animals, we watched back to back episodes of Criminal Minds with an NCIS episode or two added to the mix for a bit of variety.
Yep. Party. Animals.
Sunday I went to Target to buy some of those plastic latched wreath containers that they were advertising in the weekly sales flyer.
Alas, they had none.
I searched high and low and didn't encounter a single latched wreath container.
I did find my favorite warm cinnamon hand soap on clearance.
As you can see, it's been a little on the dull side around here. I did not venture out and shop any of the post-Christmas sales. I have wrapping paper from such sales four or five years ago and did not need anymore.
It seemed like most of the stores were out of their Christmas merchandise before Dec 25 and were already moving on to the Valentine's Day paraphernalia. When you're looking for half priced Christmas candy on December 26th, the last thing you want to see is Valentine chocolate and those ridiculous boxer shorts with red kissy lips on them.
That just annoys me to no end.
It shouldn't. This isn't anything new.
Retailers are out there to make money and push their merchandise. I'm all in favor of capitalism and supporting the economy and I do love shopping. But really, Target. Do you need to put bathing suits out just yet? I realize a select few people might be taking exotic vacations to escape the wintry doldrums, but just because you have room now that the Christmas merchandise is gone doesn't mean you should taunt us with bathing suits. After Christmas and a few too many Oreo truffles, the last thing anyone I know wants to think about is squeezing into a bikini. Why not fill those racks with turtlenecks and jackets. Some lovely scarfs and warm socks.
It's freezing outside. The wind is whipping and the temperatures are bitterly cold.
Looking at bathing suits hanging so perkily from your display just makes me mad.
Ha, I did it. I managed to pull a rant out of the clear blue sky.
That's the beauty of rambling. You never know what you might find yourself saying.
I feel so much better now.