The Power of Christ Compels You!

A collection of random thoughts:

• I was disappointed with The Other Guys. I've reached the point where Will Ferrell seems to portray the same character in every movie. Same voice, same mannerisms. Mark Wahlberg was worse...and this is coming from a life-long lover of Marky Mark. Comedy isn't his strong suit. There were a few hilarious moments, but overall, not great. The best part? Staring at The Rock. It doesn't even matter how cheesy he is. He could sound like the teachers on Charlie Brown and I'd be totally okay with listening.
  
  
• Am I the only person that absolutely hates to shower? Don't get me wrong - I do it every single day. Still, I dread the process. I hate being wet and punching and kicking my way into clothes. Yes, I use a towel. I still hate it.
  
  
• I think I've officially reached townie status in Lebanon. I've found myself hiding at home lately. It was okay to go to Bdubbs during winter and summer breaks in college. Now that I've graduated and I still don't have a job, I'm starting to question myself. Hey - at least the college grads have one-up on the rest of the crowd during trivia Thursday nights. Ouch.
  
  
• My sister moves out tomorrow. It's going to be so boring, watching trashy VH1 reality shows without her at 3:00 AM.
  
  
• The Reds swept the Diamondbacks. They are now 3-½ games ahead of the Cardinals. Feels good, sports fans.
  
  
• Speaking of sports, did I mention it's football season? Right. The Bengals play the Eagles tomorrow at home and I'm contemplating going to the game alone. You call it insanity. I call it dedication. I'm still hitting myself for missing Tebow on Sunday.
  
  
• ...and speaking of Tebow (yes, again - get used to the celebrity talk. I tried to warn you), he bruised his ribs on Sunday and may not play on Saturday. Maybe he needs someone to nurse him back to health. I think I know someone who would do it, free of charge.
  

...but after further contemplation, I've decided that in the (maybe not so) off-chance (with my stalker-like tendencies) that we actually met each other, I don't think he'd like me much. In fact, he'd probably think I was bad. That's right. Miss-I-Never-Drink-Smoke-Or-Cause-Trouble might be too bad.

As I've already mentioned, Tebow is, for lack of a better word, a saint. He's saving himself for marriage, sports Bible verses on his eye black, and has logged more community service hours than I have sleeping hours (HUGE FEAT!). He was home-schooled until college, cries when he loses a game, talks to children and prisoners about the Gospel, and over-uses words like "special" and "exciting." In short, he is the embodiment of pristine innocence. The things I want to do to him make me feel like Satan. If he could read my mind when I thought about him, he would probably sprinkle holy water on my face...and trust me. That's not my first choice of what I'd like for him to sprinkle on my face.

Case in point. I'm such a lady.

Brittany, pump. the. brakes.