One Half Hour Remains...

...until the Second Coming of Christ! OK, actually, until i'm THIRTY-FUCKING-THREE. Gee, I certainly haven't hid my age on this blog. I'm waiting on my 4th choice Breyer's butter pecan ice cream to thaw. My top 3 choices -- Edy's, Turkey Hill, Friendly's -- were NOT on sale this week. Friendly's NEVER is, dammit. Why IS that? SNL just started, Amy Poehler front and center. How very odd to see her now, post-UCB "intimate" show. Jesus Christ, SNL needs a new announcer. Sounds like he's taking his last breath with every word. I'd like to look like Matt Dillon 10 years from NOW. Fuck Brad Pitt. Yes, Matt looks good for someone in his early 40s. Youthful, relevant. This is one of the top reasons celebrities exist for me. Screw their "talent." Do they look good at 35, 40, 45? Wearing clothes that are hip and that i'd wear? Debuting at #1 at the box office and on the Billboard charts? Relevant to the teens? Springsteen was in his mid 30s when BORN IN THE USA exploded. I was twelve. And to a healthy degree, in his mid 50s, he's still youthful and relevant. Yes, HE is someone I'd like to pattern myself after. YES, i'm obsessed with age. Yes, I'll end this entry now and inhale my ice cream during the final 15 minutes. And so far, SNL sucks...as usual.