Mr. T imitation, stolen pants, baby pictures
Current mood: dumbly!
Ok, so it's no real secret that I'm a little out there. I have a tendency sometimes to have conversations with myself (mainly because I'm the only one that will listen). So, yesterday, I'm driving home, and I hear some reference to Mr. T on the radio. Now, to entertain myself, I decide to have a conversation between Mr. T and Mr. T's brother at the ice cream store. It went something like this:
T: What kinda ice cream you want?
T2: I want rocky road, fool!
T: I pity the fool who wants rocky road!
So, this went on for about 30 seconds, and it was wrapping up when I got home. Unfortunately, I forgot to stop doing it when I stepped out of the car. As one of my neighbors was walking by, she heard me say "I pity the fool who wants sprinkles!" in my best Mr. T voice. So, I'm not expecting an invite to her housewarming party.
More elevator idiocy. The doors opened at my floor, and the person getting on was standing right in front of the door. I mean, her nose may have been resting on the doors as they opened. Um, get out of the friggin' way! I think I might have to start taking the stairs.
So, this woman who I think is hecka hot smiled at me at the gym yesterday. I immediately went and picked out the ring and rented a chapel. What's that? Too fast? Bah!
Someone stole my pants! Now, if it were Lauren Holly or that Fergie chick from the Black Eyed Peas, it would be pretty cool, but no such luck. I dropped off some dry cleaning, and after 3 weeks of waiting for it to come back, I was informed that the truck was hi-jacked, and my clothes were in the truck. Who knew there was such a big racket for men's pants?! I feel like I'm a part of Goodfellas or something.
What's the appropriate reaction when a single man is handed a baby picture? Frankly, my first question is always "is this a boy or a girl?", but that never seems to go over well. Actually, I usually ask "what flavor is this?" ... maybe that's why it doesn't go over well. That's not a good one to take literally. I guess I'll stick with the fake smile and the nod.
I can't write by hand anymore. I've been doing email and typing for so long, I've lost the ability (if it was ever there). I tried to write a long love letter to Angelina Jolie the other day, and it looked like it was written by a 2 year old. Wonder if she has an email address ...
Is St. Elmo's Fire hilarious now, or what? I remember when that huge, wall-sized painting of Billy Idol with the neon earring was all I wanted in life (the one in Jules/Demi Moore's apartment). I've raised my goals since then. Now, I want Pez. Oh, and Steph from Survivor with no makeup on.
Here's the latest cat move at my house. One of them has started sleeping with me on the corner of the bed. Now, he's usually there when I'm getting into bed, in the nose-to-tail position. As I'm climbing in, he looks up at me like I'm some sort of idiot, getting into HIS bed. I usually counter this by 'accidently' kicking him in the can. Heh. I'm pretty sure he's the one that threw up in the bed, too. Nothing like being all sleepy, ready to crash, and seeing that. Cripes!
Today's new invented word is "dumbly". Use it at your own risk. It fits so many of my actions, it's scary. I'm writing Webster next.
Current mood: dumbly!
Ok, so it's no real secret that I'm a little out there. I have a tendency sometimes to have conversations with myself (mainly because I'm the only one that will listen). So, yesterday, I'm driving home, and I hear some reference to Mr. T on the radio. Now, to entertain myself, I decide to have a conversation between Mr. T and Mr. T's brother at the ice cream store. It went something like this:
T: What kinda ice cream you want?
T2: I want rocky road, fool!
T: I pity the fool who wants rocky road!
So, this went on for about 30 seconds, and it was wrapping up when I got home. Unfortunately, I forgot to stop doing it when I stepped out of the car. As one of my neighbors was walking by, she heard me say "I pity the fool who wants sprinkles!" in my best Mr. T voice. So, I'm not expecting an invite to her housewarming party.
More elevator idiocy. The doors opened at my floor, and the person getting on was standing right in front of the door. I mean, her nose may have been resting on the doors as they opened. Um, get out of the friggin' way! I think I might have to start taking the stairs.
So, this woman who I think is hecka hot smiled at me at the gym yesterday. I immediately went and picked out the ring and rented a chapel. What's that? Too fast? Bah!
Someone stole my pants! Now, if it were Lauren Holly or that Fergie chick from the Black Eyed Peas, it would be pretty cool, but no such luck. I dropped off some dry cleaning, and after 3 weeks of waiting for it to come back, I was informed that the truck was hi-jacked, and my clothes were in the truck. Who knew there was such a big racket for men's pants?! I feel like I'm a part of Goodfellas or something.
What's the appropriate reaction when a single man is handed a baby picture? Frankly, my first question is always "is this a boy or a girl?", but that never seems to go over well. Actually, I usually ask "what flavor is this?" ... maybe that's why it doesn't go over well. That's not a good one to take literally. I guess I'll stick with the fake smile and the nod.
I can't write by hand anymore. I've been doing email and typing for so long, I've lost the ability (if it was ever there). I tried to write a long love letter to Angelina Jolie the other day, and it looked like it was written by a 2 year old. Wonder if she has an email address ...
Is St. Elmo's Fire hilarious now, or what? I remember when that huge, wall-sized painting of Billy Idol with the neon earring was all I wanted in life (the one in Jules/Demi Moore's apartment). I've raised my goals since then. Now, I want Pez. Oh, and Steph from Survivor with no makeup on.
Here's the latest cat move at my house. One of them has started sleeping with me on the corner of the bed. Now, he's usually there when I'm getting into bed, in the nose-to-tail position. As I'm climbing in, he looks up at me like I'm some sort of idiot, getting into HIS bed. I usually counter this by 'accidently' kicking him in the can. Heh. I'm pretty sure he's the one that threw up in the bed, too. Nothing like being all sleepy, ready to crash, and seeing that. Cripes!
Today's new invented word is "dumbly". Use it at your own risk. It fits so many of my actions, it's scary. I'm writing Webster next.
posted by AxnJxn at 8:29 AM
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