Why is it that all of my yard is free of snow, except one teeny tiny spot that has resisted melting through weeks of 45+ temps? Should I collect some of this snow and send it in for testing? Is it a new melt resistant snow I don't know about?
Why do people get angry and annoyed at you when they want a book, but can't remember the title, author, or subject---and you have no idea what they're looking for? Really? If you can't take the time to write it down or remember it, how do I know what you want? Mind reading does not come with the job.
Why do ghost hunters scream all the dang time, so those of us watching at home can't hear what the heck they heard? And why, God why, do they have to run and jerk the camera. Give it to me. I would be a kick ass ghost hunter. Steady as a rock. And I promise you, no screaming. Maybe a bit of potty mouth, but no screaming.
Why is the gym a mere 5 miles away, and not in my basement?
How come I will crave Mexican food at least once every few weeks, and become so (quite frankly) maddening until I shove some down my pie hole? What is in it that keeps that obsession going? Are refried beans really that addictive?
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| Oh my God that rice looks good! |
Just how many people can you follow on Twitter? How can you read all those tweets?
I--just today--realized that thanks to Suzanne Collins and the Hunger Games Trilogy, the vampire craze in teen world has been replaced by the dystopian/plague riddled world/teens in charge/ craze. Thank you, Suzanne Collins.
This craze, however, has not effected the Romance and Sci-Fi genres, which are still on the paranormal/vampire/demon/angel/werewolf/dead-raiser kick.
One small victory at a time, people.
Why is it knowing a particular food will calculate into actually running/biking for miles to burn it off not stop me from eating that food? And stop me from said running/biking?
I think it's called lack of motivation and laziness. And an addiction to carbs.
How come small children always recognize the golden arches from their earliest moments of consciousness? Why not, say, a cow, or a tomato? No, McDonald's. The finger pointing and jumping up and down soon follows. And continues until middle age. Sigh.
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| Come to Me..... |
