Racing

Dear Kurt Busch,

For my sanity, please, please, please get a top five finish next week.

***

Dear Jimmie Johnson,

Please, please, please for my sanity, get a top five finish next week.

***

Dear Dale Earnhardt Jr.,

Please, please, please, for my sanity win next week. Or a top five. Either/or.

***

Dear Mark Martin,

For my sanity, whatever you do, just don't pass Junior in the points unless by some miracle you win the whole points shebang.

***

Dear Jeff Gordon,

For my sanity...you see that safer barrier? At Homestead? Run into it. Or blow the engine. Because I swear to god, if you win this points championship, I'm taking a spork to your ass every time you gloat or say something snide in post-race interviews and at the awards ceremony. A blunt spork. Of metal.

***

Dear Neeeewman,

*dies laughing* Ha ha! Look at you! Done blowed up!

***

Dear Elliott Sadler,

Yo, Elliott...what the hell? The front of the pack is <------ that way!

***

Dear Matt Kenseth, Tony Stewart and Jeremy Mayfield,

Bye bye!

Wake me up before you Go-Go

(So that I may mock.)

- Managed to read two and a half books this weekend.

- Fought the urge to write a book (because I'm just not ready to delve into the one that yet).

- Fought a migraine on Sunday.

- Got new tires.

- Got a bug shaped air freshener for the car (thereby cementing the moniker "Junebug").

- Got flannel pajama pants with Betty Boop in biker garb on them.

- Managed to *not* buy the flannel pajama pants with Eyore on them.

- Ate Mexican food. Mmmmmm.

- Boggled at Anna Nicole Smith.

- Resisted the urge to watch cheesey ass disaster movie (seeing as it didn't have Bo Duke).

- Fell overly in love with Keith Urban after listening to "Tonight I Wanna Cry" way too many times.

- Stalked the mosquito in my apartment. Lost.

- Cursed ABC for picking *this* weekend to not rerun "Lost" on Saturday night.

- Came close to strangling stupid young teacher who decided to go shopping at 3:50 on Saturday. The importance of this? Because my mom's store closed at 4:00. The bigger problem? We were having a veeeeeery slow day. At 3:50 the total for the day was $72.11. When chicklet left at 4:30 (*screams*), the total for the day was around $113.

- Listened to very loud game of Strip Trivial Pursuit, which included the phrases "I saw your junk!" and "Hat over my penis."

And none of this is in order. Just randomly what I did this weekend.

Hell

Nor ear can hear nor tongue can tell
The tortures of that inward hell.

- Byron, The Giaour

***

Wanna know what hell is? Huh? Huh?

Christmas music on several local stations and in various stores on Nov. frickin 15th!

Dear Program Directors for 105.1 and 93.9,

Please die.

***

I am not a horrible grumble puss. I just hate Christmas music. It's the most random and useless crap. Every once in a while somebody does a decent rendition of Silent Night, but in the meantime we have to listen to versions by Carribbean Jazz Project, The Chieftans, Enya, the Christmas Carol Cats...yes, the Christmas Carol Cats.

I like Christmas itself. Heck, the food is beyond compare. But if I have to hear Little Drummer Boy one more time or am subjected to Grandma's travails with the danged reindeer, well...let's just say I'm bordering on homicidal.

Dang it, I need a Grinch icon. He had the right idea before he got the spirit in him.

Explanation please

I have a question.

Why is it that some people, no matter how much you *know* you shouldn't like them...for some reason, you do?

I was wondering this last night watching the American Music Awards. I'm criminal justice girl. Lawlessness is not my thing.

So why is Snoop Dogg so damn appealing? Not in an attractive, I'd like to boff him way. More in the hanging with him would be cool kind of way. Is it because he's damn personable? Hell, and then he's singing a song about his hos and pigs and killing people...and he's *still* likable.

Why are there people like that?