'i mock you with my monkey pants'

Oh, Internet, how you charm me with your constant reminders of how I must be fat and depressed (not necessarily in that order) when I turn you on and find every web page I visit bordered with ads for Weight Watchers and anti-depressants (not necessarily in that order)! You make me happy, Internet. So, so happy. It's like having an electronic version of my mother inside my laptop, subtly shaking her head and wondering where it was she went wrong. Yeah, Internet!

:::::::::::::::::::::::::

Sunday was (is, really, since it's only 11:25 p.m., as I type this) my Tool Man's birthday, so we spent the entire day doing exactly what I wanted to do, which was watch the second season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Oh, don't you worry about the Tool Man, thinking he got gyped on his birthday, my friends. After eight straight hours of vampire slaying and demon vanquishing, we pushed pause on the DVD player and did a little somethin' somethin' that my Tool Man LOVES to do, and I was more than happy to give it to him extra special-like because it is his birthday.

We had birthday cake.

Mmm-hmmm! Tool Man ate two big gooey slabs of it.

Because I like it in multiples.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::

After birthday cake, we waddled our way back to the couch for another 5 hours of slaying, and you know what? I didn't think I would ever fall victim to this, but oh, my, I believe I have surrendered a chunk of my already crowded heart to David Boreanaz and his fictional vampire with a heart of gold. I feel like I need to book a flight directly to the beautiful Blissfully Caffeinated's house, knock on her door, and apologize for all the times I've responded "Meh..." when she's tried to convince me this man was suitable of my love. Thankfully, hundreds of other people also love him and thus saved me the time it would take to create a fan video (which I would never, ever do)(but if I did, I'd start with Joe Jonas) that I will now share here with you. You don't have to watch, of course. Three days ago, I wouldn't have watched, either, but when he told Buffy he loved her I may have sighed and whispered, "Yes..." so, you know, whatever.

Here's a suggestion - just turn down the volume and enjoy.

Or mock me. That's what I figure you're going to do anyway. You're just like the Internet!

:::::::::::::::::::::::::

You know what I just realized after watching that video clip (four times)(OK, really it was only two times)(I'm lying. It really was four)? My Tool Man has the exact same haircut as David Boreanaz. Now, if the Internet and I could just get him to lay off the birthday cake, and I surprised him by tossing a bucket of water on him when he came through the front door so his shirt perhaps flapped open and clung to his cake-deprived pectorals and abs, every day would be like a birthday around here, and by that, I don't mean the kind where the two of us sit around and do nothing but watch television all day

Speaking of birthdays, I suppose it's time for me to get off this thing and go give Tool Man his present. Or presents. We'll see how the night goes. I guess what you could say is we've got some slaying to do, and by that I mean slaying with one fewer letters.

Get it? Heh. Heh, heh, heh.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::

Oh, Internet, who says I'm depressed?

(apparently you really think I am because I just clicked back in Blogger to edit this post and right there on the edit page was a big old ad asking "Do you think you're depressed?" and you know what irritated me about it, Internet? No, it wasn't that I have never, ever had an advertisement on that page before. It was that the question was accompanied by a photo of a smiling, clearly non-depressed woman. If you're going to sell it, sell it hard and with the truth)

(we'll talk about that fat thing later this week if someone doesn't get this leftover birthday cake out of here, though)