Dusty rules.
yeah, ooh. like, you’re being fucked in the ass and then he comes on your back by writing out a something that says, “MARRY ME, BABYBOO!” in reverse cock-writing and then he sprinkles red and gold glitter all over to make the words stand out and then you run around to find a mirror to read the secret message because this is a game you play pretty much all the damn time. like, just yesterday the message read out, “GET ME A TURKEY BACON GUACAMOLE SUB FROM QUIZNO’S!”
I answer the phone at work. I have to say “Hello?” twice before they answer me, which normally means it’s a telemarketer.
Girl: Can I talk to Bjorn….I mean, Bruce please?
Me: May I tell him who’s calling?
Girl: Mandy.
Me: Where are you calling from? (Normally, most people realize I’m asking which company….)
Mandy: Phoenix.
*At this point, she accidentally leans on a button and you hear the “brrrrng” of a number being pressed.*
Me: Uhh, may I tell him what this is regarding?
Mandy: HELL NO! *click*
I hope her supervisors just listen to that tape and laugh.
Lately, I’ve been a little disappointed in what seems to be a rash of no-good-movies coming out. I haven’t really been excited to see much at all, aside from Superbad, which disappointed me. So, that makes me doubly excited for this:
Who’s coming with me!?
There are few things left on the internet, not even 2girls1cup, that take me totally by surprise. Apparently, Pickle Surprise is one of them.
“An intellectual snob is someone who can listen to the William Tell Overture and not think of The Lone Ranger.”
-Dan Rather
- We need not only a purpose in life to give meaning to our existence but also something to give meaning to our suffering. We need as much something to suffer for as something to live for.
This is why I was late to work today. (Ignore the fact that I’m late to work everyday.)
