war of the sock

I love a little competitive spirit. I'm such a five year old at heart that just hearing "Wanna race?" makes me very excited. And cocky. I might not win, but I'll go down with attitude. And maybe trip you in the effort. What? It was an accident, I swear.

So it makes sense that Sock Wars has my undivided attention in a sick, perverted Pavlovian way. True, I just got my first actual sock off the needles THIS WEEK (not even the entire pair mind you), so while I might not have mad skilz, my heart and energy should be enough to at least kill my first target.

I'm not so brave, however, as to attempt the insanity going on over here. Ya'll. Is. Crazy. I'm cheering for all the contenders, and placing my bet. I'm on pins and needles, checking blogs for updates like the blog-stalker I am. Ya'll know.

And on a totally unrelated note: I love Entourage right now and I secretly wish that somewhere there's a Ramones movie in production. And I'm sad that this Sunday is the final episode for a while. Jeremy Piven absolutely steals the show, so I might have to watch reruns to get my fix. And Deadwood will be ending Sunday as well. Crap. I was just starting to get into the dialogue cadence and figure out what the hell is going on. I have to watch in captions just to keep up. My favorite interchange is this: Hearst says: Mornin' Dan replies: Best time of the day to go fuck yourself. Still cracks me up.