Sunday, November 28, 2004

Wanna screw?


It never happens that I go on an amazing, fun date. But today I did. With a funny, gentlemanly cuddly bear of a fellow with a smartass sense of humor.
We were walking along downtown, he picks something up off the ground, and hands it to me. "Wanna screw?" he says. In my hand, was in fact, a screw. :)
Just a testament to the interesting nature of the universe...

Tuesday, November 23, 2004

Of Spongy Pucks, Bedraggled Dolls and Mud Puddles

Journeying to work and back today brought a whole crop of odd sights.
This morning I pulled through the ol' fast food drive-thru (spelling that correctly, as drive-through? seems wrong) for a couple of greasy-but-cheap croissanwiches. In the interest of time I didn't request that the spongy puck of egg be removed from each sandwich. So, after pulling away, I partly unmade the 'sanwiches, DIY style, and got to witness the flight trajectory of an eggy disc when flung from a car window.
At a speed of perhaps 7 mph, the disc angled up, making a slight "woosh" sound as it began to cut through the air. However, the disc soon lost speed and momentum, angling back down to its point of departure and flabbily flopping into the wet, muddy gutter.
After work, the odd sights continued. Passing the fairgrounds, I spied a 40ish man wearing a dingy white ski jacket and carrying a yellow, rectangular pack on his back with a DART logo. Peering out the top of the pack was a china doll, her whole head visible to anyone behind her master, blue eyes staring in that disconcerting way that only doll eyes do and long chestnut hair bedraggled. As I continued looking, he noticed me, and smiled. I very nearly pulled up beside him to ask, "What gives with the doll?" but of course I didn't.
And finally, as I kept driving, I passed a large puddle on the right side of the road. As we'd just had a gully washer, that was no surprise. However, there was an orange street cone right in the middle of the puddle, and on the side was a man who appeared to be standing guard over it. The funniest thing was his shirt. It read, "Coast Guard."

Sunday, November 14, 2004

Rather be a Ma'am

Frisco's an exurb of Dallas and there's a mall there. In it's a somewhat posh, wanna-be-chi-chi eatery. Which it might be, if they didn't hire bumpkins.
Yesterday, I went there for lunch, along with some other womenfolk. Got waited on by a hazel-eyed charmer of 18 or 19, whose aggressive brand of "charm" involved trying to use his amateurish high-school-football-player-style flirting on us in an attempt to get a better tip (think dumb jokes, and loud, fake laughter). He kept addressing my friend and I (we're over 30) as "girls," which irritated. When my friend complained, he, in a smarmy-sarcastic, angry tone said, "Oh, I could easily change that to LADY or MA'AM!" wielding the word "ma'am" as some kind of noxious weapon. Suffice it to say we asked for someone else to wait on us, whom we also proceeded to school in not attacking a table of innocent diners with what you find to be undeniable hotness or an awesome comedic performance.
Someday, when he's of legal drinking age or even later, he might understand why being called a "girl" when you're clearly a "ma'am" by a wet-behind-the-ears whelp is annoying.
Misanthropic is anti-humanity, and misogynistic is anti-women. What's the word for anti-boorish waitstaff?
Oh, and what's the word for "uses way too many hyphenated adjectives"?

Saturday, November 13, 2004

Couple of Unrelated Thoughts on Peterson

Unrelated to the last post, that is.
1. How fucked up must it be to see your face all over everywhere, when you know you murdered someone and you tried to play it off?
and
2. Seems to me humanity has changed little since the screaming of the crowds at the Salem witch trials, or the Spanish Inquisition. Guilty or innocent, we delight in judging others and watching as they burn.
Now, back to our regularly scheduled nonsense posts about nothing.
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