Through the Peephole

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Ever since that Erin Andrews story I get a little paranoid walking around my hotel room in my delicates - what if someone is looking through the peephole at me as I prepare myself for the work day?

Imagine that poor bastard who looks in on me while searching for Erin Andrews. It would serve him right.

What is really getting to me is the bad behavior of people. I see they found two young girls murdered in California, and there was a horrific murder in my hometown of North Collins. So hard to imagine.

One of the other thoughts running through my head the last couple of days is how much I hate the Oscars and the self-congratulatory bullshit that goes along with that.

I usually never see one of the movies nominated and while this week I've been seeing a lot of Sandra Bullock, whom I used to date, I'm also seeing just as much of Moni'que who I also may have dated in college.

Just kidding, by the way. (Not about Sandra Bullock).

Yet they give their speeches, they all look great, and they are interviewed about their co-workers and they always kiss ass.

"Oh, it was such a pleasure to work with Sandra, she's so pretty, so professional, and such a wonderful person. In fact, one time she passed gas and it smelled like lilacs."

I hate that crap. I think about the waste of money. When I win my academy award I'm not even going to show up.

Unless Sandy goes with me.

Now if you'll excuse me I have to finish getting dressed for work - the guy outside the peephole is making some disturbing noises.

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