Clinkers!
I read this weird book when I was a kid, about some girl who was having trouble figuring out her personality (you know, like Peter on The Brady Bunch ... pork chops and applesauce!). Anyway, at some point, she was using the work CLINKERS! as a sort of cuss word. Dunno. It's got a good beat, but kinda hard to dance to. I'm partial to BAM myself, which stands for Bitch Ass Mutha.
Saw a fairly funny Blind Date last night. This nerdy guy was set up with some lady, and he had a pretty bad case of flop sweat. Felt kinda sorry for him, but he did have one good point. He was talking about how he notices how many people view his profile but never contact him. So, there are 36 of you out there that are just LURKERS! STALKERS! Creepin' me out! We need blinds in this joint!
Hiring an air conditioning contractor in the middle of May is akin to telling a woman you have herpes in the middle of a bar. I don't have herpes, and I don't have any A/C. BAM!
"I ... hate ... everything about you. Why do I love you?" Dunno who sings that song, but it pretty much sums it up, eh?
So, we're at the Wal Mart the other day. I'm holding a heavy ass new battery for my car because chicky forgot to turn off the lights (note the beeping noise when you get out of the car!). Anyway, it's a fairly long line in the EXPRESS lane, and some dumbass up front has about 30 items. I'm pretty sure that's a justifiable homicide right there. I'm starting to think that maybe we should just make that a law. If someone does something that is infinitely rude and obnoxious, you can kill them. I'm talking on my cell phone in the middle of the gym. Blam! Ok, maybe that's a bit extreme. How about you can limit their reality TV watching? I'm turning right very slowly in my car, but not using my turn signal. No more American Idol for you this week!
Today's song that makes me want to top myself is the above mentioned tune. It's now in my head.
I've started calling my drive home the Cicada Death Toll. I haven't gotten in double figures yet, but I think it's coming. I actually feel kinda bad for them. They're all over the highway, just getting pummelled. They make a really odd sound during the day, too. I keep looking around for the mothership, and expecting the probe. They do make really nice spots on the windshield, though. Really big ones that take about 1/2 a bottle of fluid. Nice.
I ... hate ... everything about ... BAM! Get outta my head!
Is there anything freakier than being woken up by the house alarm? It's happened to me twice in a week. It's like your dead asleep, then suddenly you're thrown into the middle of a horror movie. Strange, strange stuff. Both times, it's just gone off for no reason, too, which is REALLY reassuring.
Off to the Memorial Weekend fun fiesta.
I read this weird book when I was a kid, about some girl who was having trouble figuring out her personality (you know, like Peter on The Brady Bunch ... pork chops and applesauce!). Anyway, at some point, she was using the work CLINKERS! as a sort of cuss word. Dunno. It's got a good beat, but kinda hard to dance to. I'm partial to BAM myself, which stands for Bitch Ass Mutha.
Saw a fairly funny Blind Date last night. This nerdy guy was set up with some lady, and he had a pretty bad case of flop sweat. Felt kinda sorry for him, but he did have one good point. He was talking about how he notices how many people view his profile but never contact him. So, there are 36 of you out there that are just LURKERS! STALKERS! Creepin' me out! We need blinds in this joint!
Hiring an air conditioning contractor in the middle of May is akin to telling a woman you have herpes in the middle of a bar. I don't have herpes, and I don't have any A/C. BAM!
"I ... hate ... everything about you. Why do I love you?" Dunno who sings that song, but it pretty much sums it up, eh?
So, we're at the Wal Mart the other day. I'm holding a heavy ass new battery for my car because chicky forgot to turn off the lights (note the beeping noise when you get out of the car!). Anyway, it's a fairly long line in the EXPRESS lane, and some dumbass up front has about 30 items. I'm pretty sure that's a justifiable homicide right there. I'm starting to think that maybe we should just make that a law. If someone does something that is infinitely rude and obnoxious, you can kill them. I'm talking on my cell phone in the middle of the gym. Blam! Ok, maybe that's a bit extreme. How about you can limit their reality TV watching? I'm turning right very slowly in my car, but not using my turn signal. No more American Idol for you this week!
Today's song that makes me want to top myself is the above mentioned tune. It's now in my head.
I've started calling my drive home the Cicada Death Toll. I haven't gotten in double figures yet, but I think it's coming. I actually feel kinda bad for them. They're all over the highway, just getting pummelled. They make a really odd sound during the day, too. I keep looking around for the mothership, and expecting the probe. They do make really nice spots on the windshield, though. Really big ones that take about 1/2 a bottle of fluid. Nice.
I ... hate ... everything about ... BAM! Get outta my head!
Is there anything freakier than being woken up by the house alarm? It's happened to me twice in a week. It's like your dead asleep, then suddenly you're thrown into the middle of a horror movie. Strange, strange stuff. Both times, it's just gone off for no reason, too, which is REALLY reassuring.
Off to the Memorial Weekend fun fiesta.
posted by AxnJxn at 1:34 PM
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