The Blog I Never Use

I hate colder weather. If it were up to me the weather would always be above 70 degrees Fahrenheit. I hate feeling cold, I hate how my joints hurt, I hate sweaters (come on people, if I walk into a warm building and want to shed some insulation, I don't want to have to pull something off over my head . . . it doesn't exactly look normal and my hair is bad enough already). There are two things (and only two things) that I can think of that make colder weather bearable: 1. the extra pockets provided by coats and jackets 2. I get to wear my blue and red hooded sweatshirts. I love them. Adam Sandler turned out to be right for once.

And, NO, I am NOT calling it a hoodie, I am not cool enough to pull off slang from that particular subculture; which evidently consists of college kids, Old Navy models, and those pretty guys from One Tree Hill, a show which I have never seen, but which, if the commercials are any indication, boasts characters who, though rich enough to wear Armani, might hire a hit-man to kill the thief of a beloved "hoodie," (sorry about the quotes, Gina) which they would never wear in public but which they make promises to. "Hoodie baby, we'll run away together, just you and me, and then they'll never talk bad about you again. I'll get tickets to London . . . I just can't do it this week, what with Aunt Vanessa's shark- attack- induced coma and my hostile business takeover that I am conducting from school. You know it will just make life worse for us both if I take you out in public right now. The world just isn't ready for us yet. Just don't tell my friends yet, if you do, my parents will find out, and then one day I'll come home and you'll be gone: no note, no evidence, I just won't be able to find you."

// posted by Unknown @ 12:38 PM