I'm not going to give it further publicity by naming it, but I'm sick to death of all the publicity for some show that rhymes with "Shersey Jores."
Everyone at work is sick and apparently blaming me for their illness. Guess what? I got mine from someone coughing at work and then Sundance sent my cough into hyperdrive. I didn't tongue kiss you and infect you with my germs. It's called winter. Deal with it.
I know, I know, I'm probably the only person who feels like this, but I'm not a fan of the Olympics. Never have been. Don't know why. Call me un-American, but it just doesn't float my boat. Don't judge me.
An apology? Really? Guess what? No one cares.
Dating games. Seriously, I'm too old for this crap. I really need to enter a nunnery. There's nowhere else for me to live a drama-free existence.
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