Things I like:
Razzles candy/gum. I can’t explain it. I just like it. Even though most of the time I don’t suck on it long enough, and when I bite it, it gets all crumbly. Ick. Still, I like it. Like I said – can’t explain.
Things I don’t:
“I live. I ride. I am. Jeep.” No, you aren’t. Nice try, Jeep, but anyone who identifies THAT closely with the car they ride is in need of some serious therapy. And isn’t anyone I’m going to listen to regarding what car to buy.
Things I like:
Pepsi Throwback. I tried not to like it, because it’s only available for a limited time (allegedly). But it’s milder than regular Pepsi, so….I like it. I’ll be mighty pissed when it gets taken off the market, because you know it’s going to be. Damn you, Pepsi. DAMN YOU!
Things I don’t:
The idea that posting calorie counts will help people make better choices about what they order in fast food restaurants. Um, because someone who goes in looking for a Big Mac is really going to decide to pick a salad instead? Or even just a smaller burger? Somehow I doubt it (and I say this as one who has had her share of Big Macs, and can attest that no amount of calorie-posting would change her Big Mac-scarfing activities).
Things I like:
Running. Really, I swear. You probably don’t know me well enough to be as impressed by this as you should be, but Bunker Hubby can swear to the fact that I’m a HUGE slacker, and hate any sort of physical activity. Excepting dancing, and maybe gardening. If it’s not too hot. Or humid. And the mosquitos aren’t too annoying. You get the idea.
Anyway, I’m the absolute last person I’d have figured to be a runner. But knowing some people online who run made me a bit curious (plus the fact that I can’t fit into any of my dressy pants, which is….disconcerting). So I started last week. And I ran four days. Almost four miles. And I liked it. So much so, that I’m going running today – a mile back from the auto mechanic’s, after I drop my car off to be inspected. A mile. Over a mile, actually.
Shocking.
Things I don’t:
That skateboarding dad in the Jeep commercial. For two reasons: A) the whole “I am. Jeep.” thing (see above), and B) he just strikes me as a complete ass who takes every chance he gets to “get away” from the wife and kids to pretend he’s still 16. I’m sorry, but any 40-something guy who skateboards and who isn’t Tony Hawk? Is an ass.
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