My muse, my muse. My kingdom for my muse.

My muse left me, you guys. For an entire month. Or close to it. I have no idea where she/he went, but I hope it was worth it because this blog doesn’t just write itself. Stupid muse.

  • Anna and I were joking today. We’ve decided that appending the words, “That is a compliment,” to the end of a statement should ease any pain and suffering the statement might cause. Of course, this whole premise is entirely flawed. For example, she told me something (bullet point, the second) that caused me to give her a pained face. She said, “You look like a wounded kitten. That is a compliment.” And I began to laugh uncontrollably because, you know, what kind of wounds has this kitten sustained? Is it lying in the road after a car has traversed its hind legs? I’d bet that kitten doesn’t look all that great, huh? Or perhaps the kitten just consumed a mouse that it thought it killed earlier in the day only to discover that it was a carcass from an entire month ago, swollen with the gassy bloat of putrefaction. That’s a hurting kitty, right? And a stupid one because how did the kitten miss that bloat? But I digress. Maybe the kitten’s sustained mortal wounds in a fight with a particularly gifted swordsman. A la Puss in Boots from Shrek. Puss can bring the pain, y’all. But despite knowing that it probably won’t give you the results you seek, I’m offering “That is a compliment,” up to you for use in your own lives because it sure is funny. Give it a few test runs. See what results you get. I know I’m going to try it. “You look like the inside of a stomach that is working on the remains of a taco dinner. That is a compliment.” Awesome, right? And just in time for Taco Tuesday.
  • So, Anna told me that some of her friends mentioned that I have “cool” hair. I’m putting that in quotes on the entirely reasonable chance that Anna subbed in an alternative adjective for them. But she seemed pretty insistent that it was a positive review. The interesting part is that when she told them that it was naturally curly, all of them were aghast. And, really? Seriously? What sane individual would intentionally seek out this hairstyle? I ask you, careless whisperers. Talk about aghast. I am aghast. Regardless, it would seem that my hair has found its admirers in the 5th grade, and that’s where you’ll find me because, maturity-wise, that’s about where I stagnated anyway. They are my people.
  • Since the calendar is getting ready to turn, it means it’s time to make….plans to watch the new seasons of all the great returning shows to which I’m addicted. Heh. You thought I was going to say resolutions, right? Not even. That’s for the rookies in the crowd. And I kid. You do you. As always. But if I was going to make a resolution, it would be to catch the upcoming seasons of the following shows:
    The Americans
    Better Call Saul
    Broad City
    House of Cards
    It’s Always Sunny
    Orange Is the New Black
    Portlandia
    Schitt’s Creek
    Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt
    And your resolution for me would be to get outside and interact with real people, right?
  • Hey. How about some music recommendations? I’ve been listening to the new one by Tame Impala on an indulgent loop so ridiculous that I made myself stop. And here are just a few great songs I’ve been listening to while waiting out my self-imposed Tame Impala break.

[ED. Note: I just looked at that Spotify playlist and noticed that there are 11 songs on it. ELEVEN?!? I’m so crazy OCD about certain things, and that got by me? I’m getting healthy, you guys! Hot DAMN!!] OK, that’s enough for now. The muse has left the building. Again. Asshole.
Happy New Year!

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