Blogger's Block II: Cold & Icy

Wow, my career would be in jeopardy if I wrote for a living. After a warm and fuzzy piece like my last entry, I feel a little drained in the membrane. Hey, I just saw Cypress Hill on VH1. They're still around, and just as their likeness on that priceless Simpsons episode, they still look toasted. Nicely toasted.

Oh, and about this warm and fuzzy business: don't be fooled, I'm as chilly and mean as ever. I simply had an unexpected moment of chick-flicky weakness. It happens. Back when I was working in res life, my colleagues made fun of me for unabashedly loathing the part of our weekly staff meeting where our director had us go around the table and describe any good, bad, or stressful events of our week. Really, that wasn't so terrible, but what I found nauseating was that he would then single out the director he felt had the 'toughest' week and passed them this sad little teddy bear, aka the Warm Fuzzy, to hold on to until the next meeting. Why not just cradle and burp us? I mean, really. I made certain I never had it in my possession. If I had been awarded Mr. Warm Fuzzy, he certainly would have suffered an unfortunate freak accident and not made it back.

During one meeting, Beth and Allison remarked that should my week ever be deemed the toughest, an ice cube would be an appropriate token, because in contrast to the Warm Fuzzy, I'm Cold and Icy. That's when I knew those girls could be trusted.