OMG WFT IHRT CELTICS
OMG! WTF? IHRT CELTICS!
Really. Ray Allen and Kevin Garnett deserve a championship and they're playing like they know it. Oooh, oooh, aaah! Go, Celtics. I just love them and not in a stripper-looking-for-a-basketball-playing-husband-way. A, I'm not a stripper. People would pay me to put my clothes back ON, believe it. And, I have enough trouble just taking care of myself (ate two baked potatoes for dinner) and Lou (ate a WHOLE BOX of EXPENSIVE GRANOLA CEREAL while I as at work). I don't need a husband, even if he comes with a maid. I'm tired just thinking about it. Dirty socks and whatnot. Empty bottles of Cristal (which I have to say, having tasted it, sucks. I'd rather mix some Perrier in a good bottle of sauvignon blanc ... or drink nothing. Perhaps my palate is not evolved enough.)
Anyhow, when the world is all screwed up,
and the most decent among is is hurt,
I am so happy that I have something that is, at the end of the day, silly, to hold my interest. Grown, giant men, battling each other to put an orange ball in a nylon net. Yes, I worry about my family every day. If I could do for them, whatever that would mean, I would, every day, all the time, without hesitation. Yes, I recycle, because though I don't have kids, I'd hate to leave the world in a mess for someone else to take care of (see: why I pay rent in New York for an apartment I don't live in). Yes, indeed, I carry reusable bags to the grocery store. Um-hmm, when I buy a car, it'll damned sure be a hybrid. No, I don't use the styrofoam cups for coffee in my office -- I bought a mug. Bet your ass that every day, I think about peace and how to make it happen. Sure, come witness my involvement in my community -- if there's a cause, I volunteer for it (that's why I never have time to get the eyebrows all nice and trimmed, okay?) Oh? And, I vote.
But, this summer, I am rolling around in the happy sauce of the Celtics and the Lakers in the NBA Playoffs. This is just a little thing in the scheme of things, but it's the thing I need right now. I am doing my level best through prayer and telepathy. On the prayer front, I do unashamedly and proudly believe in God. Not the vengeful and wrathful God of the OT, but a God that wants for us the best that this life has to offer--for us to get along, for us to be good stewards to the earth, for us to do right, when wrong feels better--and even better things afterwards. I think HE is tired of me praying for good stuff (i.e., lottery winnings) for me. No, I'm not going to win the lottery, and Publishers' Clearing House isn't likely to show up on my doorstep any time soon, regardless of the emails they send me reminding me of that possibility. I still ask, but I'm pretty sure HE knows that it would result in massive purchases of yarn, perhaps a llama or sheep farm, even. And, what good is that going to do for the world? Even I know that's crazy, though I still ask.
On the telepahty front, I think I'm getting really good. Did you see Gasol's performance in the third and fourth quarters of tonight's game? Those missed shots and missed opportunities were all me. I thought about bricks. Apparently, visualization works... for me, not him.
So, I need the Celtics to keep beating the hell out of the Lakers, because I love Ray and Kevin, and who wouldn't love someone named Rondo!
Really. Ray Allen and Kevin Garnett deserve a championship and they're playing like they know it. Oooh, oooh, aaah! Go, Celtics. I just love them and not in a stripper-looking-for-a-basketball-playing-husband-way. A, I'm not a stripper. People would pay me to put my clothes back ON, believe it. And, I have enough trouble just taking care of myself (ate two baked potatoes for dinner) and Lou (ate a WHOLE BOX of EXPENSIVE GRANOLA CEREAL while I as at work). I don't need a husband, even if he comes with a maid. I'm tired just thinking about it. Dirty socks and whatnot. Empty bottles of Cristal (which I have to say, having tasted it, sucks. I'd rather mix some Perrier in a good bottle of sauvignon blanc ... or drink nothing. Perhaps my palate is not evolved enough.)
Anyhow, when the world is all screwed up,
and the most decent among is is hurt,
I am so happy that I have something that is, at the end of the day, silly, to hold my interest. Grown, giant men, battling each other to put an orange ball in a nylon net. Yes, I worry about my family every day. If I could do for them, whatever that would mean, I would, every day, all the time, without hesitation. Yes, I recycle, because though I don't have kids, I'd hate to leave the world in a mess for someone else to take care of (see: why I pay rent in New York for an apartment I don't live in). Yes, indeed, I carry reusable bags to the grocery store. Um-hmm, when I buy a car, it'll damned sure be a hybrid. No, I don't use the styrofoam cups for coffee in my office -- I bought a mug. Bet your ass that every day, I think about peace and how to make it happen. Sure, come witness my involvement in my community -- if there's a cause, I volunteer for it (that's why I never have time to get the eyebrows all nice and trimmed, okay?) Oh? And, I vote.
But, this summer, I am rolling around in the happy sauce of the Celtics and the Lakers in the NBA Playoffs. This is just a little thing in the scheme of things, but it's the thing I need right now. I am doing my level best through prayer and telepathy. On the prayer front, I do unashamedly and proudly believe in God. Not the vengeful and wrathful God of the OT, but a God that wants for us the best that this life has to offer--for us to get along, for us to be good stewards to the earth, for us to do right, when wrong feels better--and even better things afterwards. I think HE is tired of me praying for good stuff (i.e., lottery winnings) for me. No, I'm not going to win the lottery, and Publishers' Clearing House isn't likely to show up on my doorstep any time soon, regardless of the emails they send me reminding me of that possibility. I still ask, but I'm pretty sure HE knows that it would result in massive purchases of yarn, perhaps a llama or sheep farm, even. And, what good is that going to do for the world? Even I know that's crazy, though I still ask.
On the telepahty front, I think I'm getting really good. Did you see Gasol's performance in the third and fourth quarters of tonight's game? Those missed shots and missed opportunities were all me. I thought about bricks. Apparently, visualization works... for me, not him.
So, I need the Celtics to keep beating the hell out of the Lakers, because I love Ray and Kevin, and who wouldn't love someone named Rondo!
Labels: General
posted by Sisters with Letters at
11:50 PM
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