Musings on movies, TV, comedy, photography, and living with boobs and without spatial/motor/social skills in America.
I’d rather collide with a streaker
or even be mugged by a tweaker
than be on the phone
with a Britney Spears clone
who makes on-the-job calls while on speaker.
and bought a bed frame and TV stand for our mutual use.
pretty sure that’s like 97th base.
but the best part of my day isn’t the two mile walk to the bus stop. It sure isn’t the two hours I then spend riding the bus to get to work. It isn’t even the hope for the Section 8 housing I’m moving into next month because it’s all I can afford combined with my boyfriend’s next-to-minimum-wage salary. And it certainly isn’t eating ramen on my 6 pm dinner break with four hours left in my Saturday shift.
No, what I really enjoy is having the chance to tell girls my age, or slightly older, that the 8 passenger stretch limo that Daddy paid for won’t be able to pick them up from their $700 a night luxury suite (that Daddy paid for) three hours later than scheduled to take their friends all over Miami for the night, that I did everything I could but we just don’t have the availability to give them what they want. Being the very first person to ever tell them, “No.”
Believe it or not, once they stop yelling at me, it feels pretty fucking awesome.
without a fake internet meme holiday?
More like Oz the Lame and Pointless.
Ooh, sick burn! But seriously, that movie sucked a lot.
we’re expecting a foot of snow tomorrow (aka the typical amount of snow that falls every day in the Midwest) so everyone’s freaking out and my work got a bunch of rooms at the hotel across the street so I’m spending the night at this hotel for free. kind of makes listening to [female star of Saved By the Bell who probably has a Google alert set up for her name]’s assistant yell at me for twenty minutes somewhat worth it