yeahimadork.com

Sometimes when I talk to people, I like to make blanket statements to see what they’ll say. Sometimes I really believe them, sometimes it’s strictly for dramatic effect.

For example, this afternoon, my co-worker Chris was taking a box of our boss’s CDs to his car. I was flipping through the CDs.

“Sting, Dave Mathews… Manhattan Transfer? Ewww. Lionel Richie? That guy’s a scumbag.”

“What???”

“I told you. Lionel Richie’s a scumbag.”

“How can you even say that?”

“Because. He rides his bony daughter’s coattails.”

“Uh, I kind of think HE was famous first. And he’s the one with an ACTUAL career.”

“He HAD a career. When was the last time you heard a new Lionel Richie song before his daughter started buying Dior and heroin with ‘Dancing On The Ceiling’ residuals? Was Lionel Richie ever on Oprah before his daughter was on tv with Paris Hilton? No. And when he was on Oprah, he dragged his daughter along with him. He’s like K-Fed. He’s not famous without her. I’m not arguing that she’s famous for no reason, but it’s a fact. He’s on tv now because of her.”

“You’re really comparing him to Federline? Really??”

“Yes.”

Then he started to get really worked up - which is what I was going for. “Is Nicole Richie going to be famous in twenty years?? No. But Lionel Richie WILL!”

“Only if his daughter’s still being followed by papparazzi. He’s like Jon Voigt. He has to talk about his daughter to get on tv now. It’s kind of sad, really.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. How an you even say that?!

Now, I admit, I do half-believe my argument, but I just wanted to get Chris worked up. Especially since he’s been having lots of fun at my expense when I told him the possum story.

The office finds our banter very annoying entertaining.

When he got in his car, he was talking to himself, and shaking his head, and waving his hands around. He was clearly upset about my stupid comment about Lionel fucking Richie.

He makes it so easy.

I heard my new favorite phrase last night.

I went over to Kay and DMX’s house to watch Monday Night Football (ok, really, it was so Kay and I could sit and talk about stupid things that don’t matter, and DMX could bitch that he couldn’t hear over us). At some point, she flipped over to Wife Swap, or Trading Spouses, or whatever stupid family-switching show it was. They switched a mom from a typical family with a mom from a punk rock family, in which the dad and the son (about ten or eleven) both had mohawks. The son, was foul-mouthed and didn’t want anything to do with the soccer mom he had to live with, and he didn’t want to adhere to any of her rules.

I can’t remember what she said to piss the kid off, but he yelled at her, “Everything’s not all flowers and sausages, you know!”

Flowers and sausages.

Heh.