Tuesday, February 14, 2012

So...wow. Getting personal, amies.

I feel like...
men really shouldn't ever comment on a woman's weight.
Like when your well-meaning uncle says, "I know I'm not supposed to ask this, but how many pounds have you gained this winter?"
If you have to preface it with "I know I'm not supposed to ask this"...come on. You're a smart man.  Instead of the shrug I gave, howaboutanice "Oh I don't know, probably it's-none-of-your-bloody-business-and-I-actually-like-my-body-thanks-and-I'm-strong-while-we're-at-it-so-please-stop-now-so-I-can-keep-liking-you pounds?"
And it's not like I'm a "big" girl, and I figure he was probably like, oh, she's confident with her body (Exhibit A: Snowmobiling with family Sunday...in UnderArmour.  Because who wants to wear their snowpants tous les temps? not me.) so she won't mind if I ask her. 
Still.  Uncle dearest.  Just because a woman's confident, body-wise, other-wise, whatever, you don't ask that. Ever. Because it's rude, frankly, and it pisses us off, and isn't being on our good side quite enough reason?
If you don't think so, clearly you have never seen our bad side.
Good luck with that.
Your Aggravated-As-Anything Niece

Out of my system, good.  Now for some homework/Parks & Rec./Glee's version of "Smooth Criminal" (because I JUST CAN'T GET ENOUGH.) And some old-school The Proclaimers. And very new-school Simple Song.  Off the Shins' of-course-it-will-be-excellent new album. 
Drawing and Paradise Lost.
Baby, I got a whole lot of anti-aggrivators.  Or something.  Er. 
Sleep good! ly. Well.
"Superman does good.  You do well."  Oh 30 Rock, baby, you speak right to my not-so-inner Grammar Nazi.

Also, Youtube.  We need to have a little talk about how when I search "Glee", I mean "Matthew Sexy Morrison".  Honestly. 
But well done on "We Found Love".  And "Toxic".  Especially "Toxic".  Finds like that, now that's the kind of search precision you should aspire to.
Oh and where can I get Rachel's swimsuit thing in "We Found Love"?  It's only imperative, you know.