Mmmmmmmm (free) Krispy Kreme for lunnnnch.
Month: September 2002
I officially don’t get this culture:
“The man said he felt as if “a bucketful of cold water” had been emptied on his head and raised an alarm he felt his groin and discovered that his genitals had disappeared, he witnessed said.
“In response to an alarm by Maibalangu, passers-by and customers who had gone to enjoy themselves at the ‘Syndicate’ joint swooped on the woman and beat her to a state of camas.”
http://allafrica.com/stories/200208060545.html
Um… uh… I want to make some witty comment about this so bad but the though of vanishing penuses has left me speechless. I’ll just quote the article again instead.
“I thank Allah for the help other people rendered to me to get my penis back.”
PS: What’s camas?
Hello this is Sarah can I help you please hold *click*
I just sat on hold for almost 20 minutes to ask a few questions about my insurance policy. After waiting said 20 minutes our other line rang a few times. I put the insurance agency on hold for 8 seconds while I told line 2 they had the wrong number. I click back to hear “Sarah” say “Hellooooo?” and then the sound of her hanging up the phone. She left me on hold for a half hour, then hangs up after 8 seconds. Bitch. Bitch. Bitch.
Ok, I feel better. Thank you, please drive to the second window. :)
Kelly who?
Gongrats, Kelly – you’re our new American Idol.
Wait, she’s supposed to be our IDOL now?
Whatever. I could have waited around the station last night to hear her crappy single (it was supposed to be delivered at midnight) but I left before it got there. It’s kinda funny – after obsessing over American Idol for the last 3 months, I no longer care. Now that Sideshow Bob has lost, I never want to hear from him, or Kelly, or Tamyra, or Nikki, or anyone associated with that show ever again.
Until American Idol II, of course.
Labor Day Weekend
After the Bag o Donuts show last night some friends and I went to Trolley Stop for some post-midnight breakfast. (I had the Trolley special. It was delightful as usual.) Out of nowhere this group of white-trashier-than-thou bitches come in to the restaurant, fresh off the Bachelorette Party Circuit (We could only assume, since they were all wearing we’re-so-naughty contruction paper name tags in the shape of penises.) Anyway, they’d been sitting down for maybe 30 seconds when two guys walk in and sit down a few tables away from them and wait for the waitress to take their order. The bride to be bitch walks over, squats down next to them and says, loudly:
“Hi, this is a dare. Are you two gay?”
We couldn’t hear their response over the multitude of diners that were now talking about the rude hootchies, and about the two men that she approched. I thought to myself, “Self, that is one fucking rude woman!”
Two minutes later she squats next to our table.
“Hi, this is a dare…” She starts.
Marshall cut her off, “Go sit down, we’re not going to play your game.”
She then said it. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, are y’all?”
I won’t even begin to go into how even more insulted I was by this comment. Ok, I will, but just a little. It’s as if somehow she was trying to turn US into the rude ones. Would the fact that menstration is normal amd “nothing to be ashamed of” somehow eliminate the rudeness of me walking up to a table of women I didn’t know and loudly asking, “Hi ladies, this is a dare. Are y’all on the rag?”
What do you think we should have said?