Monday, January 25, 2010

Oh hai. That last post was my 200th. Booya.


I may or may not have just sprained my wrist. "How the eff did a suave guy like you do this, Illustrious D?!" you may ask. "Masturbating," I may reply. This is a lie, but it would be kind of funny. Well, at least it would be if said in person. Maybe. Moving on. In actuality, this tragedy occurred at work as I was filing whilst seated on a stool. I scooched my bum back, miscalculating the surface area of the stool and promptly fell off. At first I was rather miffed that I had so foolishly injured my wrist bone, as it is connected to the arm bone, which is in turn connected to the shoulder bone and everyone knows that is my favourite bone. However, it then dawned on me that the miscalculation of the scooch could be directly accounted to a misperception regarding the size of my ass. By this inference, one could deduce that my ass is growing smaller, thereby making this the most joyous event of my day. Praise be.

In what has shaped up to be a banner week for my romantic life, last night I came across a Manhunt profile for what seemed like a totally nice guy: 24, cute, not anorexia-inducingly trim, DJ, couple of tats and the prettiest eyes you ever did see. However, upon further inspection of his primary profile photo, I noticed that he was sporting a LIVE STRONG bracelet. Let us all issue a collective sigh of disgust and befuddlement. Look, if you wear t-shirts from Threadless, describe yourself as a "spinner of phat old school beats" and you are gonna post photos of your badass star tattoos emblazoned symmetrically at the location of would-be man-lines if you were toned enough to have them, please do not counteract these David-attracting qualities by wearing a yellow rubber, 4 year old Malaysian-produced piece of what is essentially pop culture iconography from 2004 rather than an actual charity donation and that was last current when a certain Tour-de-France-winning, alt-pop-dating, alligator-weekend-bag-looking douchenozzle still had two low hangers. I just can't do that shit.

Ugh. Why can't I just marry Joseph Gordon Levitt and be done with it already? He has such good posture.

5 comments:

Sandra said...

Best reason for being happy to have sprained your wrist EVER! Also, I think it's "scootch". Or maybe I'm just craving scotch. Difficult to say!

It's amazing what small things can be deal-breakers, isn't it? And yet... total deal-breaker. That part is undeniable. I'm still reeling from the allergy thing, personally.

Now where's my damned scotch?

Anonymous said...

I just internet high fived you.

Aw

The Illustrious D said...

I've been trying to be all aloof and not comment on my own blog, but clearly I've failed.

I've wanted to invest in some scotch. What's a good starter-but-not-swill brand?

Anonymous said...

Love you and JGL.

Scotch: Let's start at the very beginning. A very good place to start. When you read you begin with "A, B, C"
When you drink, you begin with:
Aberlour or Auchetochen. Or Glenlivet or Glenfiddich.

-s

Sandra said...

Heed Sarah! Girl knows what she's talking about! Although I would also posit (new favourite word, hello!) that you could skip straight to F and invest in some Famous Grouse, haha. Not so popular in North America, but extremely popular in Britain, which could lend you a particular aura of exotic sophistication! Bonus: it's really strong!