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Thursday, October 22, 2009

मिकी मिक्केय्मोरों

Seriously will someone please tell me how to make my Titles type English again?


Attention Visitors to my Home--
I am not mapquest. I am not a helpful computer program that enables you to look up the location to my home. I do not generously provide a route and a visual map to assist you in finding my street.
Here's a tip. Before I get into my car, if I am near a computer, I look up where I am going. I do not call the person or business I am visiting to ask for directions if another option is available to me.
If I am forced to bother someone for directions, I call them before I start driving. I do not call them en route, saying something along the lines of "Where are you? I don't have a pen so tell me your area and I'll call you when I get closer to find out exactly where it is."
I do not require the person to give directions twice, in other words.
If I don't have a pen, I do something CRAZY. I listen to what they say. If I am unprepared, instead of annoying someone by calling twice, forcing them to spend precious moments of their life repeating themselves, I listen to what they say.
But that's just me.
Be advised that from now on I will be giving directions to the local titty bar. Have fun.

Went to Chuck E Cheese twice last week. Why? Because parents love their children. Enough to jump in front of a train, barely enough to venture into a brightly lit dungeon full of screaming children throwing tokens at each other. The rides are boring and a giant mouse stalks around fondling random children. When he thought no one was looking his shoulders lagged and his mouse head fell down onto his chest. He seemed to be looking straight at the knife one of the cheerful workers was using to cut the cake. If I had that job, I would long to slice at my wrists with any dull instrument within reach. I sympathised with Chuck-E.
Me-"Are You having fun?"
My friend Amy-" I don't know. It's like anal sex, I kind of love it but I kind of hate it at the same time."
My other friend Jessica pipes in -" No. It's like a blow job. You do it to stop the whining, but you'll never get back those minutes of your life."
So true.

Today I painted Ruby's room three different shades of pink. One of them was made by Disney, and it sucked in ways you aren't interested to hear about but significantly impact your life and experience when you are the one doing the painting.
"Fucking mouse!" I said over and over like a mantra.
Any adult would know that paint endorsed by a giant talking rat might not be the highest quality product, but not me.
"What a pretty color!" I thought.
So unfortunate. It may not have helped that I thinned it with Gatorade but it was clumping and our water isn't on in the new house yet.
So,to recap-
Get your own fucking directions-
Yes.
Mice-
No.