December 2009
6 posts
I am not at fault!
Dude, I am not the office petri dish! I did not get everyone sick! I was only here for 3.5 hours on Monday, and I didn’t speak to anyone who is proclaiming from their ivory tower that I got them sick! So unless you licked my phone and keyboard… something else got you sick. Losers.
Falling on the train
{{{ the sound of me hitting the train floor}}}
5 Men: _gasp!_ _snicker_
Me: {{{attempts to get up. Unsuccessful. Repeat twice. Tries a fourth time to be upright}}}
Man A: Do you need help?
Me: {{{sputters and the sound of my boot coming out from under me yet again is halted by a giant hand pulling my elbow up}}}
Man A: At least you've got a lotta padding!!
Me: Thank you! {{{internally: Werd, MoFo, thank Jeebus for my puffy coat and fantastically 'uge arse.}}}
Yes, I am insane
I just popped open one of my cards to make sure I addressed it to the right people. I had visions of my friends opening up a card that on the outside was addressed to “Dear sweet friends” and on the inside said “this is the 44,311th card I’ve addressed and I can’t remember how to spell my name anymore”
Luckily, the above only happened in my head. I think.
The Key
In my quest to understand the Tiffany Key phenomena, I discovered a website dedicated to women selling jewelery given to them by their exes. Distracted from my original outrage - really, keys as jewelery? who would want to take something so literally as to give someone a key to their heart? whose heart is unlocked with gold or silver, some shallow douche? should you put a heart pendant on the...
“They (journalists) certainly are not great writers, but they speak their...”
– Alexis de Tocqueville, Democracy in America