Annoying the family

Yes, I'm half-heartedly and haphazardly writing this while I sit with my aunt and sister and watch an episode of Buffy. Say hi Martha and Susan! They didn't say anything of course, because we're supposed to be watching Buffy. Yes, it's okay for guys to watch Buffy. It has Alyson Hannigan, and Sarah Michelle Gellar, and Alyson Hannigan, and Anthony Stewart Head, and Alyson Hannigan, and Alyson Hannigan, and also Alyson Hannigan. If not for Alexis Denisof, she would be mine. In fact, if both are okay with it, she still can be. So, Alyson. Alexis. What do you think? I will refrain from further metaphors, because there are ladies reading this (and not the LADIES type to which I constantly refer, although some of them are around reading, and to them, may I say, "Well hello, LADIES."), and I would hate to offend a lady. I also have a text message that is eagerly awaiting my attention. A text message that may possibly be from a lady, so I shall attend to that, and we'll meet back here shortly for a debriefing. Aaaand break.

It was from a lady. I should tell her that she's being discussed AS WE SPEAK (well, as I write and not as you read, because this isn't some sort of live blogcast or some such). Oh, and Xander has the funny syphilis now. And all the other funny STIs, which autocorrects to "Stud." Oh, the delicious wordplay in autocorrect.

Oh Anthony Stewart Head. You are just the dreamiest, what with your library and your other British qualities, like being on that episode of Doctor Who and the whole Merlin thing.

Plus, the episode is topical, except for Riley's hair, because it's a Thanksgiving episode and middle parts are not a valid hairstyle (unless we're talking about preteen Rob, because he could totally ROCK that hairstyle and there's not a damned thing you can do about it).

On a less nineties TV show related note, I stiffed you two hundred words last night. That's ab unfortunate consequence of this whole "hey, Rob is going to be all hip and tends down at the sock hop by clogging on his phone with the tiny keyboard. And with the autocorrect that tried to turn blogging into clogging. Well, either that or he hit a c instead of a b, which is easy given the tiny size of this keyboard and the stubbiness of Rob's thumbs" thing. Clearly I need to use shorter words to up my word count per line. I'll do better next time, or, you know, you can deduct it from one of my previous posts that hit eighteen hundred something words. But hey, we'll see what we can do here. We need like three hundred lines in order to hit this word count. and how many do we have AT THIS VERY MOMENT? SEVENTY NINE, which would almost make for a very funny and juvenile joke.

Well, seventy nine (now eighty-twoish lines of text), and I haven't exactly gotten to any overarching theme or plot or thesis here, now have I? I blame the public school system for making me the successful student and ridiculous writer that I am today. And for the funny ideas about Scientology. (A bit of backstory. See, in my AP US History (APUSH, for short) class, there was the odd chapter on culture and the like in our inimitable textbook, The American Pageant. On the one regarding the denominations that arose in the mid-to-late 1900s, they talked about The Church Of Jesus Christ, Scientist (which is an AWESOME name for a religion. Honestly, a very deceptively awesome name, given their views on medical care). During their brief discussion of Church of Jesus Christ, SCIENTIST, they said that in contemporary times, they became known as the Church of Scientology. It wasn't until sometime in college that I realized that this was not even remotely the case.)

But enough about the whole "Rob's textbooks were of minimal quality and just a riveting experience. Tell me more of these tales of wacky misunderstandings, because they are just cracking me up and are in no way boring" tales. Oh man. There are just so many lines to go, and I have got nothing. There were wonderful sandwiches earlier today (and they proved most of my sandwich theories to be correct to an n of one), and there was walking. Riveting, right? Nothing but the most charmed of lives this Thanksgiving. Heck, I even got to look at pictures of skin diseases and genital warts! Be still my heart! This is just the best vacation ever.

In other news, Rob id eagerly awaiting the end of Step 1 (or at least the dermatology, pediatric, and reproductive block). Yes, that should have been is, and all of that should be in quotes, but we've established my problems with this keyboard and authority.

Also, why was the Initiative in a frat house? Dr. Walsh had to walk through a frat house where one of her teaching assistants lives? That is just in no way sketchy. Of course, I have my doubts that most of this audience gets what even just happened, so we'll move on, shall we? Good. Great. Splendid. Wonderful. They called my wonderful. So I said wonderful- if you insist.

I could accept that I am basically just going to keep typing about random things, but does that seem right to you? I thought it night, which id AT&T I have all these typos. Well, we already know the real reason why. I suppose that I almost made some variety of idle threat, which would be downright unacceptable, just like ny use of these long words that are taking up lines without adding enough words. And I call that sloth. Because there are one, two, three, four, five, six pockets on a table, six pockets on a table that separate a gentleman from a bum! And who wants.to be a bum anyway? I mean, having one seems to work out great for J. Lo and Christina Hendricks. So I guess it's just a great big wash.

Man, it sure would be nice to have some pictures around now. Maybe get some caption action in here, throw in some pictures of maybe cats, and then say something like, "OH HEY THIS ONE TIME, THIS.CAT TODAY, IT LIKE TOTALLY RAN UP TO THE WINDOW AND WAS TRYING TO ATTACK A MOTH. I MEAN, WHAT IS IT THINKING? IT CAN'T PASS THROUGH GLASS. IT'S NOT SHADOWCAT- IT JUST THE REGULAR TYPE! SILLY CAT THAT DOESN'T REALLY LET ME PET IT WHICH IS PROBABLY GOOD SINCE I'M ALLERGIC, BUT I'M STILL A BIT OFFENDED." Yeah. That sounds like something I would say after a picture of a cat with an appropriate caption. I'll bet you can just imagine it now. There would be a cat, and it'd have some sort of funny face or hat, and you would say something about how cats sleep too much to br grumpy and really have no calendar to our knowledge, so how can they hate Mondays? And why is it wearing a lime for a hat? That is not the proper use of a lime, and a cat doesn't even need a hat, when you think about it. There are just some highly problematic themes in these sundry pictures of cats. And that's trouble. Oooh you've got terrible, terrible trouble.

So, yeah. Our cdbytal. No. CENTRAL. Theme for tonight seems to be the shortcomings of this app. (Also cats are now bathing each other and it is just super adorable.) I mean, it is certainly a handy app if you're on the go and find something worthy of a photo and feel an urgently burning need to blog about it (in which case you should probably get that looked at by a medical professional. Or, if you're feeling all active voicey and want your prepositions all in a row, I suppose you would want to have a medical professional take a look at that. We are not savages, after all.)

So it can be a great app for those sorts of, well, applications, but if you're trying to do something with lots of wacky pictures from around the Internet, or if you're trying to write around two thousand words about what really amounts to nothing (like so much Seinfeld), then it can be a bit on the problematic side of things. I mean, isn't blogger somehow affiliated with Google? Couldn't they bundle in a Google Images sort of thing so you could search for and upload a picture without having to go over ti Browser, search the image, find the image, copy the image, come BACK to Blogger, paste the image, find your train of thought again, and then write a witty yet relevant caption and resize the image. That seems like way too many steps, and I take dozens of steps just to.make.my mac and cheese (which is absolutely delicious by the way. I am also convinced that if I die of a heart attack, it will be due to that mac and cheese), so I know a thing or two about excessive numbers of steps. I will also point out for my.own simplification that we're around two hundred and forty five lines, so we are getting closer (but not nearly close enough ahurrrr see what I did there? I used a cliché. This takes training that I don't have. Clearly I am some sort of clogging prodigy here), and it should be much simpler for me to count up the lines and make erroneous claims about the average number of words per line. If only there were some sort of word counter function on this app (or inside the app. IN SIDE THE APP. WHICH IS IN SIDE THE PHONE. Break it open.). Make it happen, you various teams pf smart phone application scientists. Obey my whims as commands from your apparently clogging god. Bwaha. I would add more has, but it would still be just one word. Rest assured, it is a maniacal one word. I wouldn't dream if skimping kn the mania in a laugh like that. You've got to have standards in what you do, see. Well, maybe not in the content if the blog sometimes, but we'll just nod and smile and act like you're enjoying reading this. Hopefully I'll be able to come up with a better topic tomorrow (along with some sweet pictures, because let's face it, looking at my dulcet voice just doesn't cut it on its own. Like so much Will Ferrell, it relies on a strong supporting cast of topics and vaguely amusing pictures to properly weave a Novemblog), because I will once again have wireless, so I'll be able to use my laptop and just crush the posts like... well, some sort of foodstuff that is easily crushed. Potato chips? I prefer to eat those in a manner most sparkle, but I suppose I could.crush one in anger or triumph, just to mix things up. Of course, I could also just have a decent idea of what I wanted to talk about, just for old times' sake.

Anyway, tomorrow we hopefully return to not using the phone to blog, and on Sunday we can move back to the desktop in my dark, cold.little room, far, far away from the judging stares that lie in wait outside the apartment. I mean, once the outside world has easy access to Netflix, maybe we'll be onto something. I am now getting a strange feeling that I underestimated my number of lines, so I am going to assume that I hit 300 and met my quota, so I'ma peace out. Chuck town, fo' life.