I would have written these yesterday, but the Ogre thoughtfully brought home the newest and hottest cold that the college kids are passing around here in Ave. Luckily for us, it’s going down in history as being my favorite cold of all time, because our whole family went from being fine to feverish and sore throat-ey to hacking up a lung and moaning in distress and then back to being almost fine again in about 24 hours. It was the fastest-moving cold in history, and I kind of want to bottle it and keep it for the next time we have to get sick. It was like the most magical of colds.
Plus, I spent the whole day yesterday watching Lord of the Rings with the kids, which is one of my favorite sick day activities. It was great, right up until the Ogre said this:
Where do we know him from?
in response to the first appearance of this guy:
Eomer, one of my most favorite characters ever. (I have a thing for long hair. It’s just a personality trait. Even therapy didn’t help.)
So you guys know that I’m the one that feels this way about TV, not the Ogre, right? Since that’s the case, usually it’s me who catches these little actor cross-over roles. The Ogre usually tells me I’m wrong until I prove it to him with my handy Google machine. So I was surprised when he insisted that we had seen Eomer in something else.”No, we haven’t!” I insisted back. “Trust me, I would know if I had seen him in something else by the rapid increase in the beating of my heart!” He rolled his eyes and decided to prove it to me, using the Google machine, natch.
He pulled up IMDB and showed me this picture:
and my heart stopped. Not in the good way, either.
Because now every time I see my once-beloved Eomer, all I’m going to be able to think about is this guy ^ going, “Dammit, Jim!”
It’s Bones, y’all. Leonard McFreakingCoy. Nobody crushes on Bones. It’s like, genetically impossible. Captain Kirk, yeah. Sulu? Hell yeah. Spock? I guess if you can get over the elf-ears and lack of accompanying long hair. I can even understand someone, somewhere, thinking that Russian kid whose name I can’t ever remember is crush-worthy. (Maybe) But Bones? No. No way. It’s like having a crush on your extremely grumpy and bitter neighbor who stands on his front porch and complains all day. Impossible.
And now, because my husband had to go and identify the terrible Eomer/Bones crossover, I can no longer enjoy pretty much the totality of The Two Towers.
Orlando Bloom better not pick an unfortunate role reprisal anytime in the future, or Lord of the Rings will basically be ruined for me.
And I do mean “best.”
(Yes, that was massively inappropriate sexual innuendo. Feel free to laugh and/or close my blog in disgust now.)
Is anyone else sick to death of politics? I know there are important things going on in the world right now (and by “important” I mean “horrific”) and I’m not advocating sticking my head in the sand (or the gin bottle, were I not pregnant) and ignoring it. It’s just that in my quest to stay informed about politics I find myself wanting to take a shower every time I read basically anything about politics.
Everyone just needs to CALM DOWN. Seriously. We need to distribute Valium on a massive scale, I think, to anyone who writes or reads or, for the love of all that’s holy, comments on the internet about politics. Massive scale. Think “HHS Mandate”, but actually productive, and violating nobody’s consciences.
Or maybe we could just slip it in everyone’s flu shots. Isn’t it about time for flu shots? Surely some entrepreneuring pharmaceutical company can develop a long-acting form of Valium that will last us through January and the inevitable inauguration of whoever’s going to TOTALLY DESTROY LIFE AS WE KNOW IT !
See, look. It’s even affecting me. Valium, anyone?
And this time, no awful commenters can dive into the combox and wave the inevitable, “You first, sucka!” flag as if it were actually a trump card that defeated my argument. Because dude. I will totally beta-test the long-acting form of political Valium.
(After I have the baby. There, now put down the phones and let’s let CPS have a nice weekend, yeah?)
Not to get into the whole abortion debate on a quick takes (if you want to know my take on that, go here or here), but it never fails to boggle my mind that the same country in which people loudly defend the right to kill infants in utero is also full of people who feel perfectly secure refusing to serve pregnant women alcohol or sniping at them if they see them popping a pill (really, I’ve heard of women getting crap from people for taking Tylenol). I even had the barista at Starbucks last week say, “you want that decaf, right?” while pointedly looking at my belly. I said, “hell no. I want the caffeine, please, and so does the baby. He likes it. It makes him dance.”
She did not think that was funny. I did.
(I’m not saying pregnant women everywhere should feel free to pop pills all day or down a box of wine, but the very fact that I feel the need to add this disclaimer pretty much proves the point I’m trying to make, which is: everyone needs to chill out.)
As for me, I’m going to spend the rest of this lovely Saturday folding baby blankets and watching movies with my wee minions. Go see Grace this week for more quick takes, and for crap’s sake, don’t do any more political reading today. Happy rest of the weekend, everyone!