Don't Stand So Close To Me

What's the number one aspect of having a boyfriend? Why yes! It's making them do shit they absolutely don't want to do but feel guilted into by all the powers of relationship that be. It's an amazing transformation--from rugged manly man who doesn't give a fuck to sensitive, caring, sweet man who will do things he hates just to make little woman happy. Don't look at me as though I'm using this power for good and not evil 'cause I'm not. Like you wouldn't bat your eyelashes and give the cute pouty face if Police tickets were on the line?

*Does the 'Every Little Thing She Does' dance*

I'm sure The Police are something Mrs. Finn can appreciate, and if not she better not let me know 'cause this review will go from rosy smooches to flaming enema really fucking fast. There are some things you just don't fuck with and my love of The Police is certainly one of them. Bitches.

So, yea...the template is rather delish. Sure, it lacks any amount of color outside of shades of gray and white but sometimes understatement is enough of a statement. I mean look at it! NO! GO LOOK AT IT! Take a long hard look. See that? That's what we, in the biz, like to call organization. See how everything is neatly NOT on the main page cluttering shit up and making the amount of time it takes to load the page way longer than it should be given today's ADHD information age mentality? Love it, learn it, live it! I'll forgo colors and a blog page that screams "personality" if it means shit loads relatively quickly and things aren't sorely out of place or in my face blinking up a glitter shit storm.

As for content, well she has her moments of awesomeness and her moments of yawn inducement, but that's no different than the rest of us. At least she has the decency to point out things that people without children won't seem to get as humorous or dilemma-causing, and I can certainly appreciate that for while my boyfriend is the mental equivalent of a small child, he still hasn't completely taken over my home and can at least drive himself places and wipe his own ass--or so he has lead me to believe. Hmm.--I can't really grasp the concept of having children. Sure, I've cleaned up enough dog shit and cat vomit to warrant the title of "Mom" they've unknowingly given me, but I somehow think same-species babies are a slightly different shade of "fuck-all" completely.

That being said, kids or no kids, I completely understand the home improvement scenario she goes through. There are reasons I'm not allowed to even contemplate redecorating and moving things around, and that sort of a list is the main one.

I give her for a sleek template that's so well organized it makes my Spidee senses tingle, some pretty bad ass content, and for being a writer. That takes balls, more balls than I have, hence my assent to lawyer-dom.

She also gets a for questioning if "this is really all there is." Of course not. What "there is" is purely a construct of what you want to make of it. You got all the right tools, live woman!

Lastly, you get these dudes: just 'cause they crack me up. Don't ask, it's 7am and I've been at work for nearly 2 hours.