FREE THE BABBLE!
This blog is under review due to possible Blogger Terms of Service violations.
Apparently, the good people at Google think that us Bellas are a bunch of good for nothing spammers. We’re innocent, I tell ya. I mean, I haven’t written about Viagra once on the Race Blog. Promise. Silly Google People. FREE THE BABBLE!
Orographically Enhanced. Weather report or porn star? You decide.
I had this idea that I was going to lift more this winter. Usually, I crack and give it up. Really, I’m no fan of the gym place, and counting to 15 over and over is not exactly my idea of a good time. But the weather decided to help me out. It’s fucking pouring. That, and I discovered the rolly ball balance thingy. Fun times. I did nearly land on my ass, but since there was no one around to see, it didn’t actually happen.
Someone at the Red Lobster corporate mothership decided that the gym was a good place to advertise. Nothing like seeing pictures of fried fish bits being dipped into vats of butter while you’re doing crunches. Sea cockroaches, yum.
CNN sent some poor schmuck to stand by the side of the road in Truckee. Yep, it’s snowing, yes indeed. Sillier still, there were people sitting in their cars on the Eighty, in the belief that they were actually going to get somewhere. Um, like, hello? Any y’all ever looked at a weather report? Let’s go drive over Donner Pass during the biggest storm of the year. Brilliant.
A Janet Jackson video came on. My pod was playing System of a Down. It was confusing.
Then, I rode the trainer. Some surfers shredded it on my laptop. That was good of them to show up and help me out like that. And, better still, I finally found a use for that copy of War and Peace I got for Christmas. Because it’s not like I’m going to read the thing.
Apparently, Obama won in Iowa. That’s nice. I’m glad the good people of Iowa have something to do with their time during the dark days of winter. All those caucuses and town meetings, diners and high school gymnasiums: it makes a lovely advertisement for participatory democracy. Can you give me a little more sepia? Maybe soften the focus up a smidge? Perfect.
Keep your eye on my finger and listen to the sound of my voice. Spectatory Democracy. (And no, that is not a word. I made it up. Sue me. Actually, on second thought, that would be a really bad idea. The suing part, I mean. How ’bout I promise not to make up any more words instead? Because there’s a promise I can keep.) Gather around the glowing box and gaze upon the empty pageantry of presidential politicking. Red, white, and blue bunting. So hot this year.
I hit 50 on Free Rice. I’m not sure this is a good thing.