Moving Forward With Patches of Awesome

My apologies, F My Zits lover, this was for Monday, but I accidentally saved it instead of posting it… What that means for you is more frequent lovin’ this week…

Is that a birth mark on Drew Brees face? Or is it a patch of awesome? That guy. I’ve decided I’m going to start calling my sweet zits that I haven’t been mad at for a couple of days, “patches of awesome.” I’m curious if maybe I go for a more positive outlook that my face may respond in kind…? Quite possibly the dumbest thing ever posted in a blog, but I’ll go with the odds that there is far worse floating across the Inter-web.

My project is well under way. I’ve actually got stuff cooking in the bacteria oven at school, and hopefully I’ll be sickened and overjoyed with wonderful results. If not, rehypothesize, try again and see what happens. Maybe a little more research beforehand would lead me to be more confident, but at this point, the hay is in the barn.

Guitar

Lately I’ve been thinking about taking up the guitar. When I was younger I took piano lessons and really enjoyed learning to read music and stuff, but after one summer full of travels I kind of fell off the wagon. According to my parents, I didn’t mention it or ask to go back so they assumed I had lost interest. Did they not remember being a kid? To this day my attention span isn’t all that impressive so not mentioning anything generally means I’m just distracted.

So. The guitar. Chicks dig the guitar – and dudes who can play it. While I have a definite interest in a singular lady, you can’t achieve rock star status without 1. playing an instrument, and 2. being adored by LOTS of chicks. I suppose that’s how those talentless hacks that pass as “lead vocalists” get away with the label of rock star, but to me, they’re simply filling a void. Just like people fill seats at the big awards shows!!

A Little Justin Timberlake Bashing

While I’m on topic, am I the only one who cannot stand Justin Timberlake? This guy thinks he is so freakin’ funny. Those commercials with Peyton Manning? Who wants to bet that Manning would blank that punk in a game of ping-pong? In truth I’ve learned a great lesson from Timberlake – when you go for humor, and think you’re funny, you’re not. I was having this discussion in the library the other day at school, and a friend called out Dick in a Box and Mother Lover. Sorry, but that’s Andy Samberg! Now THAT DUDE is funny. On a Boat, Jizzed in My Pants… Justin Timberlake is just a sidekick. Just. A. Sidekick. And his taste in women? Brittany Spears? Janet Jackson? Wasn’t she like 20 years older than him when they were doing whatever they were doing? Though I will say hers was the first boob I saw on TV during the Super Bowl… Then Cameron Diaz? Now Jessica Biel? Well, OK, she’s not half bad. But Timberlake, you’re not funny. And neither was this post, but I’ve got zits and you don’t, homey, so chew on that!

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