N.B.: Words cannot express how thrilled I am at how many people are expressing so many different opinions in the Blogalike Contest. Voting will continue through midnight this Friday, August 27; if you haven’t voted yet, please make yourself heard!
I had a whole post worked out about UPS and how they are the source of all evil in the world, but then I read Jake’s comment about how Chris Meloni works out at his gym and I find I am unable to think about anything else.
Jake, whoever you are, if you tell me what gym this is, I will do, quite literally, anything you ask. Note that, as I speak four languages, am flexible and fit enough to do a round-off back handspring back tuck, and can recite “Jabberwocky” while standing on my head, the possibilities are, while not endless, certainly wide-ranging.
As of this moment, I know only that Chris (who, by the way, hugged me in my dream last night) often patronizes the Starbucks at 93rd Street and Broadway. I’m about to leave my house and go sit and wait for him there, forever, if need be. But, Jake, if you e-mail me, I can get the e-mail at Starbucks (I’m sure they have a wireless network there) and go and join the gym in question immediately, and wait for him there, forever, if need be. So I suppose I ought to amend “quite literally anything you ask” to “quite literally anything you ask as long as it can be done within the confines of whatever gym Chris Meloni works out in.”
The advantage of seeing Chris Meloni sweating at the gym vs. seeing Chris Meloni buying coffee should be clear even to the dullest of dullards out there.
Actually, it just occurred to me that I could get a job teaching aerobics at the gym in question and convince Chris Meloni to take my class. Except then I’d probably die of joy.
Come on, Jake, baby, come through for me here.
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