There are always those songs that are just so lame, so tacky, so cheesy, so poorly written… but for some reason it seems like there are more of those horrible songs hitting the airwaves than ever before. Here are my most loathesome (in no particular order, of course).

1. Shakira – “Hips Don’t Lie”: My lips don’t lie, this song sucks.

2. David Powter – “Bad Day”: Every day is a bad day when I’m subjected to this song repeatedly.
3. Paris Hilton – “Stars Are Blind”: And apparently the radio Gods are deaf.

4. Nelly Furtado – “Promiscuous”: I liked her so much better when she was “Like a Bird” and not a Promiscuous girl. For shame.

5. Fort Minor – “Where’d You Go”: If this song would go away, I would not miss it so.

I have an earache from just thinking about these songs.

It’s officially my birthday and I am surprisingly wide awake. It’s surprising because I am heavily drugged up at the moment. I didn’t know this would be a side effect of anesthesia (so help me God, anyone who can spell that word without spell check, who is NOT in the medical field, is insane). So, what better time than now to explain myself.

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I swear, I have really tried to get into the World Cup (okay, not that much but maybe a little) and it just ain’t working. It’s just so BORING. *YAWN*

At the restaurant, we’ll have two games on at once and I have made a valient attempt to watch. I watch, and I watch, and I watch, and I yawn, and I watch. Why does the clock tick up? That’s just weird. And what’s the deal with the field? Why is it so goddamn big?! Keep the eleven players on each team and shrink the field. That should increase the shots on goal and possibly increase the scoring.

Sorry majority of the Earth’s population but I would rather watch *gasp* NASCAR than your World Cup. Just because you all like it doesn’t make it the best sport. Now, it’s back to worshipping the real football (which unlike soccer, doesn’t involve the connection between one’s foot and the ball nearly enough for the name, but whatever).

This is why I hate the Boston Bruins.

After ten years of relative peace, my wisdom teeth have decided they no longer want to be in my mouth. Rather than giving me some notice, the little pearly bastards decided to send a shooting pain deep into my jaw, up my cheek and into my temple. The bastards! I was in complete agony all day, so much so that my eyes teared. No, I wasn’t crying, my eyes just teared. I badly wanted to run head first into a parking meter today in hopes it would dislodge the disgruntled tooth. With my luck, I’ll just knock out the happy teeth and possibly break my nose.

Tomorrow morning I will be at the dentist hopefully getting an appointment for ripping these bastards out of my mouth.