To the guy in my neighborhood who drives the black, late model Volvo. You are a prick. Driving too fast for starters, stopping at the main road to get out of the car–um, you couldn’t have pulled to the side? Then you pawed around in the trunk for your cell phone and then you didn’t even acknowledge the fact that your idiocy held me up all qualify you for prick status. A simple hand wave would have stripped you of the title King Prick, but no. You are King Prick. Also, you aren’t so important that you need to be on the phone before 7am…I know, because you live in my neighborhood and not next door to the president. He’s the only one who needs any advice before 7am–”Should I wear the blue socks or the brown ones today?”
Why is it that Hallmark has the lamest cards for little kids? I know a two year old could give a crap what a card actually says, but some of us hate buying sappy cards. Especially ones that rely heavily on the word cute. I nearly threw up in the Hallmark store today. And that was before I dropped $14 on cards.
Congratulations to all the gays and lesbians in California who got married today and will continue to get married because they live in a state not inhabited by backwater, slack-jawed yokels. Virginia, I’m looking at you.
The women’s bathroom here at the office is again a horror show. We went a few days in a row of relative calm but today we’re back on the stink train. Someone should see a doctor.