Coulda Been so Beautiful, Coulda been so right....

Ok, I am so FRITZING mad right now - I have been sitting here typing for a whole FRITZING half hour, and I press some stupid wrong button and the whole frigging thing disappears. I want to frigging scream. What's with the fritzing and frigging you ask? Well, I just finished saying in the missing post (the "lost post" for you bootleg collectors out there - find it and sell it on ebay for a profit) how I was looking over the blog and noticed that I swear like some drunken longshoreman, and I've been trying to monitor if I actually swear that much in real life. So, I proceeded to say that I work with this woman from Saskatoon who is married to a minister there and she always is saying "oh fritz" all the time, and I was all "let's experiment!" and proceeded to use it throughout the fritzing post, and it was actually sort of fritzing funny, but now, alas, as I lost the whole motherfritzing thing, and I am seriously angry at the moment. Well, whatever. Oh, but I am just so mad, because I typed and typed, and for nothing.
Ok, so this will be very short, as I have no energy to remember what I was rambling on about - something about American Idol and Whitney Houston and some strange stream of random babble. Anyway, I am really grouchy now.
So American Idol - I will completely forget about all the stuff I wrote about this week (sorry, it was good too), but let me just say this: Paula was on drugs again last night. Seriously, bitch was stoned. She was weeping and weeping when Snaggles sang, and I just didn't get it. But let's talk about the hillbilly. She was horrible. Fritzing horrible. However, even though I went on and on about how she was not as stupid as she seemed, and how she was annoying and needed to be gone, when they showed the clip at the end, and the picture of her and her jailbird daddy when she was little, well, then I got all sad for her. I am mental, I know. Completely frigging mental.
So anyway, I also had this to say about Whitney Houston, although none of the humor will be there, and this will be boring to read, since I am so annoyed at losing the original post (man, I dwell on things too long, don't I? Well, it's my life, so fritz yourself). Katherine sang "I Have Nothing" and she couldn't pull it off. However, I have to say I love that song, and I am a closet Whitney fan. I've been one since her first album in grade 10 - I still think "You Give Good Love" is an awesome romantic song. So, I'm a fan of the Crackhead.
I also posted 5 of my favorite romantic songs, and asked you what yours are.
"You Give Good Love" still gets me. I was also a huge fan of her duet with Teddy Pendergrast "Hold Me", although I think it might be a little hokey now ("I'll hold you, and touch you, and make you my woooomaaan, tonight") - yeah, hokey. This was back in my "I want to be Black and I am going to marry a Black woman and have Black babies" phase - you remember that don't you Margo? Oh and Margo, remember that Black girl that broke my heart in grade 10? She's a lesbian now in Vancouver - I actually know her cousin quite well. I'll tell you the whole story sometime.
"Tender Love" by the Force MDs, from 1985, is one of my alltime faves. I love that song. It still gives me that teenage romantic intense feeling, you know what I mean.
"Your Love is King" by Sade I think is fritzing SEX-AY.
Same with "Wicked Game" by Chris Isaak. Those last two songs would be good soap opera sex background music.
Yes, this post is boring, because I am still pissy and I have no intention of snapping out of my childish mood.
So speaking of soap opera sex music, has anyone ever stumbled upon "Latin Lover" on the Latin Channel on Friday nights, at around midnight? Well, its some sort of soft porn Spanish soap opera, and it is all dubbed, and so cheesy. I can't follow what the sam hill is happening on it, because they are all acting like they are rejects from Santa Barbara (anyone remember that show?) and then boom, two people will be naked and getting busy, and we had the convo at work about that show one day, but I won't tell you what it was about - let me know if you have seen it, and then once you have, I'll pose a question for you about it.
Anyway, sorry for the boring post, but I am just cranky as all get out about losing that post. I even had a good one about Dionne Warwick not predicting Whitney was a crackhead from the psychic friends network, but I can't remember the wording. LOL, it's one of those days.
We had the BBQ for my parent's anniversary tonight and it went well, so I am happy about that. Enough said.
So before I go, let me say the strange thought that came into my head as I was getting a cart at Superstore today. I had this wierd thought come into my head, and I got all mad at Molly Ringwald and John Hughes. Why you ask? Well, I can't rightly remember why this popped into my head, but I had this revelation, an epiphany if you will, that those Hughes movies, you know, my faves like the big Molly three - Sixteen Candles, Breakfast Club, and Pretty in Pink - are all totally wrong. You see, when you watch them, you cheer for Molly to hook up with the rich dude, the prince charming guy. Well, I was sitting there thinking (well, shopping there, thinking) why couldn't she have hooked up with the nerd? WHY? Why not Anthony Michael Hall, or Duckie? Or, Long Duck Dong, for that matter? Wouldn't that have just kicked ass, to have her fall madly in love with the nerd? I know I would have felt better for my own obsessions, because really, who were any of us kidding that we'd get the ones we had crushes on? I think we all knew deep down we didn't have a fritzing chance with them, but if Molly hooked up with some braceface pipsqueak with zits and a hairy back, well, it would have done wonders for the generation as a whole, don't you think? Ah, well. John Hughes let me down. And I mean, in the Breakfast Club, why can't Ally Sheedy fall madly in love with the jock, and she'd watch him wrestle, and he'd support her in her sculpture or whatever intense thing she'd be doing? Why the hell not? Why not have had the nerd and the dope head come out of the closet and declare their love? Why not have had Duckie in Pretty in Pink and Annie Potts, the older record store woman, get it on and then get married and settle in the burbs? Why the hell not?
Anyway, this is bloody boring, I know. I guess I'll just get my sorry self to bed and let's hope I never hit the wrong button again.
Have a lovely day, y'all...
xo
JT