I warn you: Don't waste your time with this.

The less I have to do with life, the less I am vexed by it, thus my very goal to blog something with more than two lines to it is completely frustrated. This is line number two, and you are hoping it's a good one, because, if I didn't have a knack for making really long, yet fairly well punctuated sentences, this second sentence would not be offering you these rather uninteresting words to read right now, and you would know nothing of the natural anticipation that exists completely apart from the oft scripted realm of reality television, wherein tonight pure-hearted American Idol contestant, Carrie Underwood, preaches about people gettin' what's comin' to 'em on Independence Day in a clap along with me now! ditty that confuses the hell fiery wrath of the Old Testament God with a bunch of people who, hey, just want to light up a few sparklers for a good time.

Nudy.

Hazardous of warning notice: Not only for wild arranger use!

Rob Fukuzaki, you own nice suits.

Yeah, I'd sell peanuts here, bitches.

Here's a picture of my favorite dog:

(The tan one in the background.)

Goodbye Minneapolis, hello Los Angeles!

Once again, I discover I have underpacked. Fuck.

Nanny 911: Call Me

I'm appalled that young children can go around, have tantrums, and hit other defenseless children. Witnessing such freely dispensed abuse makes me want to yank the bicycles out from under them and throw them into the dumpster--the bicycles, that is. That's right, walk home, you little punk, and think about what an asshole you've been today.

To Clarify...

I like all people. I also like irony. But most of all, I like sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows. And Bo Bice.

Mediocrity is coming to L.A.

While in L.A. I pray to see as few white people as possible. I hope I haven't offended you readers who are white, the white readers. You people are still welcome to peruse my blog entries. You may even respond emotionally to them, if, in fact, you have emotions. As a minority, I have never uttered the phrase you people, except for the time I accused Disneyland staff of overcharging hardworking minority families for a lousy cup of lemonade.

Does anyone want to go to Disneyland with me? My favorite ride is The People Mover. Yours?

Sunny Afternoons and Sunny Evenings

Feng Shui of the face.

Let God be the judge of this!

My mailbox has nearly exceeded capacity, what with all your heavy complaints about my new "favorites" line of posts. Lame? Lame, rather, are your benumbed senses! Do you fail to see poetry when it appears before you, naked and proud, urging you to awaken from the spoiled language of superfluity? You live in a world of black and white. I have chosen to color my world with tan.

Starchy Brain Material

Peanuts and corn chowder. I have nothing to say. Flea spray and doorknobs. Nothing is coming to me. Earthen creatures with quivering eyes have poured too much liquid fabric softener into the final rinse cycle, but I won't yell at them because they are just my brother's clothes. Besides, they do a lot around the house, like refinish the parquet floors and pick up the fluff from our shedding dog. I've come to appreciate these topsoil creatures whom I at first merely tolerated. Most people think I live with dirty men, but I tell you, they are surprisingly wholesome.

This is my absolute favorite:

I like to dance.

This is my favorite person:

A tan person.

Jesus shops for greeting cards at Walgreens. I saw him.

I used to be Buddhist, but now I'm a clerk at Walgreens, and this week the played-out hits of the 70s are only $7.99 on CD, $3.99 on tape. I've been stealing yogurt drinks from aisle 9, and I've been getting away with it. I mean, shit, if you're going to schedule me for fucking 6 o'clock in the morning, a sister's gotta get some breakfast, know what I'm sayin'? I ditched Buddhist school when my friend hooked me up here at Walgreens. Forget that wack Buddhism stuff, man, I didn't know what they were talking about--acceptance this, acceptance that. Man, that's all bullshit. What I couldn't accept was I couldn't accept my stomach being all growly and then being denied a breakfast burrito. Man, I owe my entire fucking life to Walgreens.

This is my favorite website:

www.engrish.com

This is my favorite color:

Tan

This is my favorite American Idol contestant:

Bo knows Americans.

Sunny days and sunny nights.

I started with the ears, and then Sunny began to express reservation.

Different Strokes

I've not recovered from being called an ego maniac--that is, I'm still blushing from the flattery. Other such fitting titles are welcomed. And yes, please stop me on the streets and ask for my autograph. I always have time for the groundlings--regardless of what they look like. They're usually the ones who ask if they could sit in my white limo, and that's when the tinted window separates me from them--as if I really need a window to do that.