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This is the first in an eventual series of Collected Thoughts by Princess. Some will have to do with Hot Bad Guys. Some Not. Some will be Funny. Some will be a downright disturbing glimpse into Princess' Psyche. Read them at your own risk.
We will never discuss Game 1 of the American League Championship Series again. Ever. That is all.
Why does cotton have its own advertising slogan? You don't see advertising for silk or wool or rayon. Is all cotton production run by one company? Do some people watch those commercials and think "hey, I haven't worn anything cotton in AGES! I should go get some of that. I never wear anything like jeans. Or underwear." Sheesh.
Why is it, that the higher up in management a person goes, the less able they are to run simple office equipment like the photocopier and the fax machine? No, see you just dial the number, put the document you want to fax into the machine, and press start. Sigh.
Elijah Wood is simply perfection all wrapped up in one adorable body. I defy anyone to prove otherwise.
Okay, these are just weird. What are we? Canada?
I know I wasn't going to talk about Game 1, but DUDE. What was that with Tim Wakefield? Freaking knuckleballer. Okay, I'm really done now. Let's never talk about it again.
70 Days until the release of Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King. I'm not going to make it.
I hate it when people ask what my favorite movie is. How can one possibly answer that? There are so many to choose from and my preferences, at least, are at the whim of my mood. I could go weeks without seeing a movie with Colin Firth, then watch nothing but Colin Firth movies for an entire weekend. Ask me for a top fifty list. That's a much more realistic goal.
Speaking of Colin Firth, My God is he yummy in Bridget Jones' Diary. I can't wait until the sequel comes out.
Back to Game 1 for just a second. Grrr... Why didn't the Yankees hit? It was so ridiculous. Okay, definitely not talking about it any more. I promise.
Can I just say how much I love doing this web site? How many people get to gush over Hot Guys in their spare time and spend a little time each day searching for more information about them? Seriously. I love it. And eventually, I get to help look for pictures. Oh, the torture, the agony of having to sift through pictures of Hot Guys.
Why didn't I get cool books like Harry Potter when I was a kid? Not that the Little House on the Prairie books weren't cool, but still. It doesn't seem quite fair. Of course, when I was a kid, Tonka trucks were actually made out of metal instead of plastic.
Someone needs to research a way of doing a movie full of Bad Guys where they all sing. No, seriously, hear me out on this. A lot of Our Guys have been doing singing projects lately - Joaquin Phoenix, Kevin Spacey, Antonio Banderas, Colin Farrell. Clearly, there needs to be some kind of forum where we can enjoy all of them at once. This needs to happen.
I really miss Fruit Roll Ups. Especially the cherry ones.
The first person who can sufficiently explain cricket to me will be my new Best Friend. Please send your explanations here. I need to know the rules and also the point.
Can anything make an adult feel like a little kid more than a meal of macaroni and cheese with hot dogs and Hawaiian Punch?
Why hasn't the Ambiguously Gay Duo been given its own spin-off of Saturday Night Live? The chance that I'll get to see an episode is really the only reason I bother to watch. If not its own show, you should be able to get all the episodes on DVD. It's just the right thing to do.
If We spend all this time lusting after British Hot Bad Guys, at what point do We simply decide to move there in hopes of increasing Our odds of dating a guy with a British Accent?
Briefly back to Game 1. Since when can the Home Plate Umpire overrule the Umpire down the right field line when it comes to fair or foul balls? Who has the better view, I ask you? Seriously. I'm done now.
It's still 70 days until The Return of the King. Sigh...
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