I really really hate that song by Alanis Morissette that's about things being ironic. It gets stuck in my head, I don't like the tune or the way her voice goes all yodely throughout, and I know this has been said a kabillion times before but nothing in the lyrics is ironic. All of those things are just interestingly juxtaposed and mostly unfortunate circumstances. BUT THEN I was thinking what if it was all on purpose and the irony lies in the fact that a song about irony only talks about events that are not at all ironic?? If only I smoked weed. I feel like that thought would occupy me for hoouuurrrs.
Alanis Morissette did redeem herself slightly (ever so slightly) in my eyes, though, by doing a cover of "My Humps" by the Black Eyed Peas. If you have not looked it up on YouTube, you need to.
I like to read the Philly Citypaper that we get delivered to my building every Thursday, but I never learn to not read it at the desk. And I should learn that, because every single time I read it at the desk, I always forget that there are explicit escort ads in the back. Every. Single. Time. So I'll be flipping through, mindlessly skimming editorial rants and movie reviews, and then BAM. Naked ladies and Skanky McHoebags aplenty. Practially leaping off the page, legs spread and nipples juuuust barely covered with clipart stars. And, inevitably, every single time I get to this page, it's right when someone comes up to the desk to be scanned into the building. So it makes me feel super sketched out, and then I hastily flip the paper over, so then it looks even MORE like I was ogling the fine offerings available at Adam's Apple (BEAUTIFUL YOUNG ASIAN STAFF! BEST SAUNA IN THE CITY!) Sigh.
Citypaper made nice this week by issuing their quarterly "Dish" feature, which is all about food in Philly. Now I have some new places to try out, so I'm excited.
No comments:
Post a Comment