Three Completely Unrelated Topics

1:
I posted this comment on Mattress's blog.
Sometimes I think I'm funny.
This was one of those occasions.
To set it up, Matty was talking about the new season of the Amazing Race.
The twist they put on this season is that they decided to do it "Family Style."
10 teams of 4 family members compete in a race around the world for $1 million.
The teams of note are:
-This horribly obnoxious family from New York. The children are the absolute epitome of what's wrong with 99.9% of the children in American society in the 21st Century. They are hateful, annoying, and completely disrespectful to their parents, and the parents have exactly ZERO disciplinary skills.
-This totally adorable black family called, of all things, the Blacks. How funny is that? They have two extremely well-behaved precious little children who come from the .1%. I would have totally been rooting for them to win the whole thing, but alas, they were eliminated last night after the first leg of the race.
-Also a family from Central Florida, the Weavers. They lost their father/husband in a tragic accident. They love Jesus. A little too much, if you ask me. Mom Weaver thanks Jesus or praises Jesus literally every time she speaks. She's like the born-again Annelle from Steel Magnolias. As Truvy said: "Maybe she's praying for Drew and Belle. Maybe she's praying for us because we're gossiping. Maybe she's praying because the elastic is shot in her pantyhose! Who knows! She prays at the drop of a hat these days."

Now I'll share my comment from Matty's blog:
Yeah...that New York family sucks.
I thought it was funny that they got lost in their own hometown.
They are going to be the "Jonathan and Victoria" of this season, which means you know that they won't get eliminated ever, no matter how much everyone hates them and sends them the "lose this race"-vibe.
-I was upset about the black Blacks losing, if not for the cuteness, then at least for the irony of their names.
-The Weavers have a heart-warming story or some junk, yadda yadda yadda, but they drive me crazy because they can't seem to speak one complete sentence without mentioning Jesus. Thanks, Weavers, but I highly doubt that Jesus told the producers to put you on the show, as Mom Weaver suggested.
Could you imagine?:
"Hey, Amazing Race? Yeah, this is Jesus. What? Yeah, I know, thanks. So, I'm super busy right now, what with leaving that single track of footprints in the sand everytime someone experiences a personal tragedy; and of course, there's Whitney and Bobby. They require special attention. Huh? I know! Anyway, there's this family, the Weavers, you got their audition tape, right? Cool. So, hey, if you wouldn't mind...you know, they've gone through a lot lately, so let's get them to race around the world with 9 other families to see if they can pull through with that 10% chance at winning a million dollars, okay? You'll do it? Awesome! Thanks. Take care, and may my dad and I bless you."
*sigh*
Don't even get me started.
I'm hoping they get eliminated next week.
We'll see if they blame THAT on Jesus.

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B:

This is completely hypothetical and in no way is it a school-inspired story.

Okay, so, here's the thing.

It's acceptable, when in a relationship, to color-coordinate.

I even encourage it.

If you and your relation go out and wear outfits/colors that complement each other, it looks nice.

No one wants to see one person wearing black, the other navy blue; one orange, the other purple; one pink, the other orange; etc.

Now here comes the big, ba-dunk-a-dunk, baby-got-back, but:

BUT, it is in no way cute or funny or anything other than annoying and stupid to go around day after day after day after day wearing the exact same clothes.

ESPECIALLY if you are a supposed-heterosexual male (even though everyone, probably including your fianceé, knows that you are queerer than a 3-dollar bill) and said-fianceé dresses you in clothing (probably her own clothing) in a way that makes you look more like identical toddler twins than an affianced couple.

Oh, and by the way, if you are a heterosexual male who insists upon wearing flip-flops with your jeans every single day, you might want to think about removing the glittery toenail polish first.

Just a suggestion from those who care.

Again, this story in no way reflects the lives of Sally Jesse Raphael and Queery McHetero.

Actual names have been changed to protect the guilty.

Not that they would ever see this anyway, but just in case:

You're sweet kids.

Sweet, intelligent kids.

Sweet, intelligent, fun-loving kids.

Sweet, intelligent, fun-loving, clearly gay kids.

And anyone who might take offense at something I say on this blog is retarded.

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Gamma:

This next, and thankfully brief, story totally falls under the category of way-TMI, but I'm curious to know if this happens to anyone else, or what it might mean:

Do you ever get a phone call from someone, and within minutes or even seconds of initial conversation with this person, you absolutely must take a crap?

I don't know what this means, but every time I talk to certain people on the telephone, I always have to go potty. Always. Without fail.

It doesn't happen in person, only on the phone.

There must be some meaning behind this.

I don't have the foggiest idea what it is, but at the very least I know that if I ever have regularity issues, I know who to call!

That's gross, I know, but whatever.

You can't know if you don't ask, right?