Color Me Badd

I'd say we oughtn't bother mychela for a few hours. She and Adam, no doubt, are sexin' it up, far above the damn-ed Hunt Club. I wonder if the paparazzi got a hold of them on their schmancy dinner? How many weeks do we give them to befriend TomKat in Paris and LA? They got engaged last night, you know. Katie Holmes and Tom Cruise, that is. Right beneath the Eiffel Tower. I'm sorry, but that's only fodder for cheeseball stories. But cheeseball stories are often the best ones. I don't really mean to sound callous. Speaking of cheeseballs, I'm thinking Micah won't be able to wait untill the end of September. Who wants to lay odds that he gets to D.C. earlier?

What's with all the predictions today? Perhaps I will venture some more. I think Leah is planning a coup, she and some other well-supported (not like bras; like friends) will be entering the sphere of influence of important people very shortly. I don't know why Leah--she's just got gumption, you know. I also don't know whose favor it is that she will win, but it's gotta be someone. Perhaps a impressionable publisher of some sort. Or a musician.

As for environmental predictions, I'm wondering about these earthquakes. I think California is trying to break off from the united states to go hang with Hawaii. Alaska can come too. And last week we've got unseasonably boiling temperatures, approaching 100degrees in June, and this week, I've got dew on my car, have to close the windows in the house, and use the heat on the morning commute. CRAZY.

Speaking of cars, that Mazda3 of Miki's is one cute litte sports car. Pretty too. I'd say we've got a duty, in the name of asthetics, to lynch this car basher girl. And while we're at it, lets find the asshole who keyed my car last night. Not only was it mean, uncalled for, and uninspired, but it was poorly done. Very weak. I mean, if you're gonna do something, do it right. That's what's wrong with the world today. No conviction. No one knows how to get a job done.

What think you?

-Yoda