So, I blogged some more serious stuff the last week or so because I figured that instead of holding back the things that move me just because they are heavier than my usual cafe fare and then not blogging at all because it actually makes me disgusted with myself that big things are happening and I’m worried about underwearless chicks in Hollywood, I decided to blog about the depressing stuff that has no answers.
Seriously, if Britney goes comando and photographers get anÃ‚Â unbecoming shot of her cooch there’s an easy solution that everyone sees–pull on some panties, sister.Ã‚Â There, problem solved.
Anyway, I think the decision to blog through the things that bother me was a good one even if it drew fewer comments–that also might be because I wasn’t there to respond as much…sorry for the stream of conciousness (spelling?)Ã‚Â
So, we’ve arrived back to silliness and I’ll just tell you, I’m going to give you a view into the US Open in the coming week.Ã‚Â Or at least a view into the traffic related to the event.Ã‚Â How’s that for heavy-hitting?
I did have dinner with Phil Mickleson a couple of weeks ago.Ã‚Â He keeps saying he injured his wrist in the Church Pews or something, butÃ‚Â the injury ocurred when IÃ‚Â battedÃ‚Â his hand away from the bread basket at the Memorial Day Picnic buffet.Ã‚Â Really, he can’t have everything to himself, can he?Ã‚Â