I recently attended the Quaker Oatmeal World Convention here in Los Angeles. Sort of.
I was not invited. I was not informed of it ahead of time. I just randomly got lost in downtown Los Angeles and found myself stuck in a traffic jam that facilitated parking at a parking lot to get out and grab some lunch. When I got out to grab some lunch I found myself walking with a group of suit-laden executives who were talking the oatmeal.
#1: Apples and cinnamon is over, buddy. Totally over.
#2: No way is apples and cinnamon over. Maple and brown sugar, sure. But it’ll be a cold day in Hell when apples and cinnamon goes away.
Esta noche, voy a escribir un entreda mala en Espanol! Yo soy muy feliz sobre este entreda y voy a pensar sobre mis palabras y pienso que mis amigos son muy loco.
Ahora, este mi seccion segundo. En esta partido, voy a hablar sobre mi perro se llama Jack. Jack es un perro intelligente. Jack puedo ringo el bello en mi floor-o secondario en mi casa cuando go potty-o.
Algunos tiempos, me gusta a romper con mis amigos en un field-o de grass-o. Cuando en un field-o de grass-o, me gusta a hablar con la gente en la parque se llama Beverly Hills Park.
Saw Spiderman 2 last night.
I will give you no spoilers. I will not ruin the plot. I will not describe sequences involving actors and will not tell you about the cameos. I will not spoil the jokes and I will not tell you about the CGI action sequences. And I will definitely not tell you about the end.
But I will tell you this: Kirsten Dunst needs a damn good orthodontist.
Dr. Crabtree (real name) was my orthodontist while I was growing up in the San Francisco area. He was a genial man with a talent for making petty conversation with you while he tightened the metal braces around your teeth, took cement impressions of your teeth, jammed plastic spacers between your teeth to ready them for braces and as all of it was going on — he came off as the most genuine man around.
Britney Spears is over. Done. Kaput. Finished. Absolutamente fin. The End. (Hand slits throat)
From her ridiculous shotgun marriage to her new engagement to her over-blown personality to her over-bitten nails to her fake giddy smiles to her overdone interviews to her wannabe status. She is completely over and done with.
I don’t know where exactly things turned for me. There were the days when a grown man named ME went out to buy the CD for “Baby, One More Time.” There were the days when the Spice Girls took a backseat to Britney’s dancing and showmanship. There were the days when I would throw down at the mention of Britney not being as musically talented as Christina.
My left eyebrow deserves the attention.
My left eyebrow has been good to me over the years. It has never strayed from its path, leaving the rest of it’s fellow eyebrow hairs behind. It has never allowed itself to get straggly and unwieldy. It has never ever permitted one particular eyebrow hair to grow longer than the others. It has never allowed one hair to become discolored or grey.
My left eyebrow is the king of the castle.