The blog-comment-spammers have been getting a lot more crafty lately. Instead of leaving their totally obvious comments that consist of a list of 350 keywords involving penises and tramadol and paxil, they leave theses generally vague, yet flattering comments about how interesting and entertaining your post is! My spam filter does a pretty good job of catching these comments, and when I go to empty the filter, I’m always a little disappointed that these gushing compliments are bogus. I hope those spammers get a lot of false-praise comments on their blogs so they’ll know how it feels.
I’m currently at my parents’ house, watching the Olympics. Figure skating! Mr. Smarmy does not like the Olympics, especially the skating, so I can get my figure skating fix without annoying the bejesus out of him. How convenient.
What is the fascination with figure skating? I don’t know. I was absolutely devastated when that little twat Tara Lipinski won the gold over Michelle Kwan. Robbed!!
I grew up on a lake and my next door neighbor/ surrogate sister, Jamie, and I used to love skating at night with the spotlight on the ice. One of us would make up a little song while the other person did their “elaborate” routine.
That reminds me of a discussion my mom and I had earlier in which she insisted that I can dance. In fact, I can not. I’m stiff and awkward. If I haven’t mentioned it before, I’m also clumsy. I routinely bump into stationary objects in the house. Even when I make up intentionally stupid little dance moves at home Mr. Smarmy gives me weird looks, and has, on more than one ocassion, told me to “never do that again.” Still, my mother vehemently insists that I can dance.
Tomorrow my BFFs from middle/high school and I are having a little reunion. We were such a bunch of goody two shoeses. Hot damn, I hope my kids make it to 20 half as innocent as I was.
Two last random thingies involving Survivor:
1. Mr. Smarmy and I started watching Survivor the other night. As in, the Original. Season 1. We wanted to start watching the newest season, but we are thorough, compulsive TV watchers and must start at the beginning for this kind of thing. I can’t really imagine just jumping into the middle of a show. It’s bizarre to me.
I digress… naturally, we have been craving Island Food. Coconuts and such. So we were in the tea aisle at the store, and we always kind of gaze longingly at the tea aisle anyway, and we saw a Super Fancy (as in $8 for 15 bags, yikes) tea that was half off, and it had a GIANT coconut on the box. Survivor tea! I’ve also been desperately searching for coconut M&M’s and coconut Kisses to NO AVAIL. So of course, we had to buy it.
Well, my friends, I consider myself a fan of coconut and pineapple, which it alludes to on the box. A big fan. I don’t know what the fuck is in this tea, but whatever it is, it’s FUNKY. The smell is unbearable. Mr. Smarmy wound up drinking an entire cup and saying he liked it better than a lot of the fruity teas I’m partial to and try to get him to drink. Inconceivable.
The ingredients list tropical flowers… I’m thinking it must be something similar to Stargazer Lilies, because that’s the only thing I could compare this smell to. I’ve always been grossed out by the smell of Stargazers. They smell like rotting Idon’tknowhat to me. Apparently some people like the smell… I’d really love to know what they smell. My mom loves them. She would probably insist I love the smell of them, too.
2. Our local news anchor is a Survivor cast-off from Season 2. Jeff Varner. We are so very amused by this revelation. Jeff does some really great commercials for the news. For example, in one of them, he bounces a CGI globe in his hands and then pushes the text off the screen. SWOOSH! SWISH! They are extremely 90?s. I wish I could find some of the local news commercials on YouTube, but I seriously doubt it.
We loved Jeff before, because he has that kind of Southern accent that sounds a little gay. (If you’re familiar with Zach Galifianakis’ gay brother, Seth, you’ll know exactly what I mean.) Now we love him even more.
And this is a semi unrelated tidbit, but the jingle for one of the local news stations is identical to the melody for part of a song Mr. Smarmy’s little sister sang in an easter play YEARS ago, but it stuck in our head so thoroughly that we can’t not hear this jingle and sing, “Twenty four hours was all Jesus had!”