Memo to Lola – seriously, girlfriend – you barf once, you get mentioned in my blog – anything thereafter is just going to piss me off.
Why is it that the Salvation Army Bell Ringer on the TV ads is an attractive middle-aged woman in a uniform, but the one at my Kroger looks like a homeless dude in a trucker’s hat? I’m still going to give him spare change, but…
I suggested that Mom and Dad name their new pug “Trig”. They haven’t gotten back to me on that yet. Hmm.
People at the Post Office – we can see you skulking around the counters trying to look busy – we know you’re not actually working – so go ahead and open up another register so that I can get my Nutcracker Christmas stamps and get going.
Crossing Guard on Thompson – I don’t know how you do it! You weren’t even out there this morning and the traffic was still FUBAR! Nice work, mammajam.
Dudes everywhere – when your significant other asks what you want for Christmas, that’s a cue for you to ask her what she wants for Christmas.
I bought a new shirt to wear to the company Christmas party last night.
I’d love some cute, strappy sandals to seal the deal, but I’m not that into getting a pedicure before then, and let’s face it, my feet are scaly. Plus, I’d only get to enjoy the results for a night, then I’d shove my hooves back into sensible shoes again til March.
I’m getting a haircut on Saturday. The receptionist apologized that only appointment available was at 8AM –hell - for me, that’s ideal. She’s not going to be running behind, and I don’t have to watch her chat up some skinny young client as she dries and styles the chica’s perfect flaxen hair while I contemplate how much we’re going to hack out of my graying bird’s nest. I’m not jealous. Really.
They need to invent a lotion gun. Something like a paint gun, only it heats the lotion before spraying it out onto a person’s desiccated carcass. I also wouldn’t mind a paint roller covered in heated lotion. Basically, I have dry skin, OK? And yes, I do drink lots of water.
The only baby I want daily updates on is my nephew. I don’t know your kid – I think you’re at best only mildly interesting, and your kid is a byproduct of you, so…it’s not that I don’t care, it’s…well, actually – it is that I don’t care. If I’m not asking, I’m not interested. And maybe I’m only asking to be polite, so keep it short.
Panera - can you please open a location near my office? You too, Chick-Fil-A. I’ve eaten more McDonalds, Popeye’s and Krystal than one person should. I need options. Well, really, I need to bring Lean Cuisines, but a girl has to leave the office every now and then to preserve her sanity.
And wouldn’t you know – I was scanning my stations last night on the way home to work – the radio landed on “It’s The Most Wonderful Time of the Year”.
Friggin’ scary ghost stories.
ae
Why is it that the Salvation Army Bell Ringer on the TV ads is an attractive middle-aged woman in a uniform, but the one at my Kroger looks like a homeless dude in a trucker’s hat? I’m still going to give him spare change, but…
I suggested that Mom and Dad name their new pug “Trig”. They haven’t gotten back to me on that yet. Hmm.
People at the Post Office – we can see you skulking around the counters trying to look busy – we know you’re not actually working – so go ahead and open up another register so that I can get my Nutcracker Christmas stamps and get going.
Crossing Guard on Thompson – I don’t know how you do it! You weren’t even out there this morning and the traffic was still FUBAR! Nice work, mammajam.
Dudes everywhere – when your significant other asks what you want for Christmas, that’s a cue for you to ask her what she wants for Christmas.
I bought a new shirt to wear to the company Christmas party last night.
I’d love some cute, strappy sandals to seal the deal, but I’m not that into getting a pedicure before then, and let’s face it, my feet are scaly. Plus, I’d only get to enjoy the results for a night, then I’d shove my hooves back into sensible shoes again til March.
I’m getting a haircut on Saturday. The receptionist apologized that only appointment available was at 8AM –hell - for me, that’s ideal. She’s not going to be running behind, and I don’t have to watch her chat up some skinny young client as she dries and styles the chica’s perfect flaxen hair while I contemplate how much we’re going to hack out of my graying bird’s nest. I’m not jealous. Really.
They need to invent a lotion gun. Something like a paint gun, only it heats the lotion before spraying it out onto a person’s desiccated carcass. I also wouldn’t mind a paint roller covered in heated lotion. Basically, I have dry skin, OK? And yes, I do drink lots of water.
The only baby I want daily updates on is my nephew. I don’t know your kid – I think you’re at best only mildly interesting, and your kid is a byproduct of you, so…it’s not that I don’t care, it’s…well, actually – it is that I don’t care. If I’m not asking, I’m not interested. And maybe I’m only asking to be polite, so keep it short.
Panera - can you please open a location near my office? You too, Chick-Fil-A. I’ve eaten more McDonalds, Popeye’s and Krystal than one person should. I need options. Well, really, I need to bring Lean Cuisines, but a girl has to leave the office every now and then to preserve her sanity.
And wouldn’t you know – I was scanning my stations last night on the way home to work – the radio landed on “It’s The Most Wonderful Time of the Year”.
Friggin’ scary ghost stories.
ae
Comments
I laughed hard at the crossing guard piece :P