Tuesday, May 17, 2005

I Know, I Don't Know

I know that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. But there seems to be something really wrong about our society’s current beauty ideal.

I don’t know why Chris’s mother disliked me from the start. Luckily I never liked her son much, so I guess that made us even.

I know why Lisa’s father disliked me, and I don’t blame him a bit.

I don’t know why anybody loves Raymond.

I know I crossed the line when I blew in that woman’s ear that time. But she did it to me first, so I didn’t really care when seeing me reciprocate pissed off her girlfriend.

I don’t know why anyone thinks I care about celebrity marriages.

I know that I’m as happily married as can be, and that I love my wife more with each passing year.

I don’t know the name of a single movie currently in theaters, and I don’t care.

I know that it’s bad of me to be prejudiced against a group of people, and I’m sorry, but mechanics just piss me off.

I don’t know if there’s anyone else on the planet like Whit McClendon.

I know that BB King influenced my life more than any college professor.

I don’t know if Dad realizes it, but I appreciate everything he did.

I know Saddam Hussein was a tyrant and a dictator, behind awful atrocities against his people and his enemies, but when you go to war it’s supposed to be for the reason you state.

I don’t know how so many of my junior high teachers turned a blind eye to the things that went on.

I know that I’m not the only person who experienced that either.

I don’t know what I envy most: Bruiser’s disposition, Toland’s talent, McAuley’s confidence, Llorca’s humor, Geoff’s smarts, Whit’s skills, or Danny’s accomplishments.

I know that I’m fairly happy with who I am though, except for the bad back, bad ears, dry skin, expanding gut, flat butt, snoring, crooked finger, sore hip, sore shoulder, whiny voice and crooked face. Other than that I’m perfect.

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