Choose Your Own Adventure Blog (feat. Cheeseburgers!)

ONE

You guys all feel sorry for me because I feel like shit today. You read my blog over and over again to make me feel better. If you would like to know why I feel like shit, go to TWO. If you would like to hear about the Tony awards, go to THREE. If you would like to hear about the basketball game go to ANOTHER BLOG.

TWO

Probably because I had two fucking cheeseburgers from a New Jersey McDonalds and my body can no longer process Grade ZZZ beef. You laugh at my digestive upset and the smörgåsbord of germs I got from the little Mexican child who tried to plow me over so I get mad and breathe on you. You die. THE END.

THREE

The Tony's were surprisingly entertaining. You are shocked because you don't find live theater relevant. You are wrong. I encourage you to seriously find a YouTube of the opening number because it is cute and funny and reaffirmed my 1,000-ton crush on Neil Patrick Harris. Here, I will do it for you.

Doesn't that bring back memories off all the things you want to inflict on Brooke Shields? Furthermore, although he cannot sing his way out of a plastic bag and I still wish he would shrivel off of the celebrity circuit forever, I have to admit that Daniel Radcliffe danced the shit out of his How to Succeed number.

Ok that's all I have to say about the Tony's. If you get on your knees and beg me to link to the new Selena Gomez song, go to SIX. If you do not want me to do that for some reason, go to FOUR.

FOUR

Too bad.

Go to FIVE.

FIVE

If you don't like that song yet, go to SIX. If you do like that song now, go to SEVEN.

SIX

Here.

Go to FIVE.

SEVEN

Bravo. Now you love Selena Gomez. Is this awesome? Circle one: Yes/yes. Go to TEN.

EIGHT

Inside the mailbox is a portal to Narnia. You are stabbed in the eye by Tilda Swinton's cheekbones. You are dead. THE END.

NINE

Weren't they delicious, cow? Here is the story of their creation. Jen and I are starting a new tradition where we bake stuff and watch movies every.... now and then. Saturday it was red velvet cupcakes and The Wizard. (Yes, I watched the fucking Wizard again.) After the wizard, Ry Ry took us on a tour of the best parts of Queen of the Damned, which weren't very many. Next time I will make lemon tarts, she will do something else, and we will watch makeover-themed movies.

Anyway it was a lovely fucking evening before you ruined it by eating all the cupcakes. This is why you are a cow. That's it. Ok. You are killed by a grue. THE END.

TEN

You are in a field. You see a mailbox. To the north is a house. Exits are north, northwest, and south. If you open the mailbox, go to EIGHT. If you break into the house and eat all the red velvet cupcakes I made with my friend Jen this weekend, go to NINE, you cow. If you dig a hole to China, go to ELEVEN.

ELEVEN

You die in China. THE END.

Weekend, Tonys, shittiness.

I was supposed to do this big hilarious post about my weekend and the Tonys, and you were going to laugh, but I'm soooo beyond tired. I didn't sleep last night because I went to bed at one and my body said NO YOU CANNOT SLEEP UNTIL THREE and then my cat said NO YOU CANNOT SLEEP UNTIL THREE THIRTY so I put my cat in the bathroom and she said IF YOU KEEP ME IN HERE I WILL ROLL AROUND IN THE LITTER BOX AND YOWL AND SHRED THE TOILET PAPER AND YOU WILL NEVER SLEEP AGAIN so I murdered her in my head over and over and counted them until I finally got to sleep, bludgeoning one decapitation two gradual starvation while I dangle raw fish just out of reach THREE HOW'S IT TASTE BITCH!?!?!

So I'm in a crappy mood and I don' thave much to say about the Tonys anyway. I learned a lot about Christine Ebersole and how awesome she is. (Link to YouTube. I'm a work, so I can't watch this and find out what it is, but it leads to all sorts of Grey Gardens clips.) No power on this earth will keep my from this show.

I also learned that bland performances are considered acceptable and that people can be tricked into liking Spring Awakening when shown the only 3 minutes of the show that were actually bearable I PROMISE YOU NO MATTER WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THE PERFORMANCE THE REST WAS SHITTY FIVE BILLION AWARDS OR NOT except ok, that guy who won for best actor in a featured role was good, so he deserved his award and also maybe I want to have sex with him a little bit.

I'll try to stop using caps lock run on sentences to express myself, I'm more refined than that because I have so much class.

Other features of the weekend include, but are not limited to the following:

• I saw Knocked Up and it was good and true to life and hilarious except the part with the yucky thing.
• I had brunch and it took infinity plus forever minutes to get our food, but it was super fun and there were important mimosas.
• I passed out in a bar because I am either irresponsible, date-rapable, diseased, or a starving orphan. It was really embarassing, but I felt fine right after. Don't worry, nothing bad happened, I did a scan. Two kidneys, two testicles, in-tact rectum. No harm no foul.

That's all, that's the recap. Also, I invented a new genre of poetry today during the Boringest Meeting in Boresville. The genre is called "shitty poetry" and it goes a little something like this:

Shitty Meeting : a shitty poem
This is the boringest meeting ever.
If you wonder when it will end, it is never.
This woman will not shut her mouth.
She makes me want to migrate south.
This man sounds like an ass.
I will make fritters from his hulking mass.
If this meeting does not end soon,
I will set off fireworks in this room.
The new presenter is really hot.
Ugly and boring he is not.
I am imagining having sex with him.
After the meeting I will say "Stick it in!"
But other than that, this meeting is snore city.
And that is why it is shitty, shitty, shitty.

I guess I'm a great writer after all. If you like the poem, you can set it to music and we can have a campfire sing-along.