Do this, not that.

So you know what I haven't done in forever? Posted on this damn blog, that's what.

Since I'll be home all summer doing a whole lot of nothing, I figure I'll have time to write about all the majesty that is my day-to-day life.

So here goes. Summer 2011: The Sydney Holmes Story.

Since I basically bypassed all kinds of golden nuggets as far as pop culture goes (aka- Friday (hot damn mess to the nth degree), James Franco at the Oscars (hot damn mess part deux....doesn't mean I'd kick him out of bed, though), The Voice (obsessed, even though Xtina Aguilera looks like a trampy myspace hooker), etc...) I'll just go in to my new found passion and we'll go from there. After all the keyboard is mightier than the sword, and Imma bout to slay all you bitchez.....?

There is nothing I love more than watching people in their cars. My roommate said she read somewhere that if you want to find out what someone is really like, pull up next to them at a stoplight. I can't say that a nice first date of coffee or lunch or something wouldn't suffice my need of getting to know someone, but I definitely am not above taking stalking to the next level.

Before society was anally raped by the mass amounts of technology we deal with every day, there weren't many options for the day-to-day car ride. People just sat around, farted, looked at their hands, or sang (something I choose to do pretty much every time I get in the car. Eff the radio). But now, there are so many options.

Exhibit A:

Shaving while driving.

I saw a man shaving his face while I was driving to my job interview (which went swimmingly by the way, thank you for asking) this morning. I'm sorry sir, but if you don't have enough time to shave in your own damn sink, you need to loosen up your schedule somewhere. That's like those sadists who microwave Pop-Tarts instead of toast them.

WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, KING OF THE ROAD?

I don't know how electric shavers work. I've never used one on my legs, but I don't imagine if a speed bump came upon this man unsuspectingly that his face would survive. He would probably look a lot like The Joker circa Heath Ledger. Not only is shaving and driving incredibly unsafe, but I feel like there's an uncomfortable amount of itching that goes on. From the stubble of your face falling into your shirt, pantaloons, and other crevices, I can't say I condone something like this.

If this is the future of hair removal, though, I would really like to pioneer a "Brazilian wax while operating heavy machinery" movement.

Exhibit B:

This guy.

You all know exactly who I'm talking about. Some of you might even be this guy. If you are, please exit my blog immediately with your boogery mouse and keyboard.

No, but really. I can understand the occasional nasal scratch, but come on. Your windows are not tinted enough for you to go on a full excavation of your nostrils without being seen and, in turn, embarrassed. Get a fracking tissue.

My new favorite activity is this: If I see someone vigorously picking their nose in their car, I will stare bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at them until they look at me and, blushing, pretend to not have been doing what we both know damn well they were just doing. Go ahead a flick that booger somewhere in your car, Captain. Doesn't mean I didn't see you do it.

Even though those were only two examples, I'm going to stop here. I don't want to overload you all with too much sarcasm in one day. So thanks for reading and I'll post again soon!

Obsession of the day: "It Gets Better" videos.