1. Sometimes I wish I had a Twitter account for the sole reason of discussing Adam Levine and Blake Shelton's sexual relationship. Oh, and it would be great to have someplace to discuss Christina Aguilera's questionable fashion choices (but I still love you Xtina! call me!! we'll do something about that hair thing you have going on right now). The Voice makes Mondays worth having as far as I'm concerned.
2. My husband is the equivalent of cat crack. Zelda's home with me all day and she sleeps on my lap for hours before crawling into her carrier to nap (the most low key kitten you have ever met) until she hears the key turn in the lock signaling the approach of kitty crack. Then she turns into a biting, scratching monster. He is whack.
3. We watch the awesome zombie show The Walking Dead on iTunes because we don't get AMC in our cable package (heh - I said package), but each new episode isn't released until the day after it airs on television. So I have to impose a Facebook moratorium on myself until we watch the new episode because people have NO RESPECT for SPOILER ALERTS. The only things I've ever had those "people are talking about" boxes have all been television related - the Super Bowl, the Oscars, and The Walking Dead. Damn people. Damn iTunes delay.
4. Okay, let's talk about Rush Limbaugh. He manages to evade career-ending scandals surrounding racism (the "black quarterback" thing and some of the snide names he has called Obama), wishing that, upon election Obama would fail, references to the oh so politically correct feminazis, and let's not forget the prescription pill abuse. Plus, he's nearly deaf and you'd think that would have some impact on his career. But whatever. But what brings him down? Slutgate. Man, if we had only thought of this earlier.
5. I've been reading this horrible book FOR DAYS and I'm about 30 pages in and I just can't get into it. But I feel like I need to give it more of a chance before I just give up on it and return it to the library because the Internet, the New York Times, and the New Yorker, not to mention every damn body on amazon and Goodreads LOVE this dumb book. How much further would you read of a 316 page book before you return it? Or, rather, how much more time would you give it? Blech. I won't tell you what book because you'll all tell me to just read it. Tell me what to do.