Theory Schmeery

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Things I like in theory:

 

  • Hairless cats. Great idea. Poor implementation.
  • People who agree with everything I say. I enjoy feeling like the smartest person in the room and all, but conversation tends to lag when you nod eagerly in response to my listing the reasons why the world should completely accessorized in purple.
  • Long nails. They are beautiful. Just not functional for a writer
  • Beautiful plant. Worth the work?
  • Smart cars. Look adorable driving down the street. Under a semi – not so much.
  • Airatarians – I appreciate that you’re saving food for me, but the whole non-eating gets so annoying.
  • Shirts with buttons – Sure do look nice on you. Too chokey.
  • Socializing – It certainly looks like fun. In reality, there is sweat pouring down my back and I can’t remember the names of your kids.
  • Television shows about people “my age.” Wouldn’t it be great if she actually graduated before the millennium? Look for her to be playing the grandmother in ten years, even though she has been fully reconstructed.
  • A book with tiny print. It must be incredibly educational. You don’t see smutty novels in small print. It just makes me irritable in practice.

 

Recently I found myself slogging through a t.v. show that was, for me, mind-numbingly dull. Everybody’s watching it. The scenery was painstakingly perfect for the time period. The actors even whispered the entire hour, like all serious actors do while taping a show that will be in Emmy contention.  In theory, it had all of the elements of a good show. In theory, it was great. That’s why I forced myself to sit through four episodes. In practice, this thing is a ridiculous waste of butt-flattening, life-shortening time.

Life lived “in theory” is probably a great thing for some. Just don’t ask me to take a spin in your smart car to discuss what we’re not eating.

 

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