The limitations of blogging

See, if you TELL people that you have a blog and then you get pissed off at them you...can't blog about it. Well, fuck.

Now, if you are actually reading this, don't worry, it's really probably not you. Because as far as I know, said person has never read La Blog, has probaby never read a blog in her life, and probably never will. BUT on the off chance that someday, I become an exciting and notorious blooger AND she somehow hears about it AND she remembers that like, five years ago, caffeinegirl told her about this fancy new "blogging thing" AND she puts three and three together....it will be bad.

THEREFORE. I will change all the details about her but leave my vast and adoring audience with an impression that conveys the apporpriate level of annoyance/punch-in-the-teeth-deserving-ness.

Now that that's out of the way....

SERIOUSLY. SERIOUSLY, SERIOUSLY, SERIOUSLY? Seriously. I cannot take you seriously IF you are wearing NOT ONLY an Eliza B belt, BUT ALSO Eliza B flip-flops THAT MATCH THE BELT. Also? PUT YOUR DAMN COLLAR DOWN. Did I just see a Lacoste alligator?

You realize that in some countries, it is now legal to kill you, right?

And while the amount of time and effort you seem to have spent bleaching your hair seems almost...impressive? and I realize that this demonstrates your great resolve and fortitutde...some people are not meant to be blondes. They just aren't. I realize that if you don't have blonde hair, you forfeit your license to wear those clothes, but perhaps that wouldn't be such a bad thing.

Because apparently, your job is to tell people HOW TO LIKE, FIND THEMSELVES, OR SOME BULLSHIT, and while you have great lines about "making your own decision" and "staying true to yourself" I simply cannot take these words to heart if they come from a person who, for whatever reason, finds it necessary to wear the uniform of those who partake in Tea Partays.

Although if you're looking to relocate, do I have the perfect southern Connecticut town for you.