Sunday, March 15, 2009

Elbows up, side to side...

How great is this shirt!?

I went to the mall today with some friends in lieu of Sunday coffee because our original destination was closed. We saw some really tacky graphic tees and I was a victim of buying two of them in their buy one get one half off sale. Now that I think about it, I regret not getting the Lean Like A Churro shirt. Maybe I might exchange one of the ones I got for that one instead tomorrow or something. I dunno.

Last night I went grocery shopping at 9:45 pm. I figured it was a good time because Jesse was home, Charlie wasn't asleep but I had to get out and get a break from his not-wanting-to-go-to-sleep-ness. I wore this awesome kelly green sweater I got from Salvation Army on Friday for $1.50 and was calmly strolling around the store taking my time. I thought there was a surprising amount of people shopping that late on a Saturday night. Then I looked at the contents of my cart and the contents of their hands: I had food, they had cases of beer or bottles of booze. The 20-somethings in there were all hooting and hollering and yelping at each 20-something they passed by in a fraternal order of brotherly salutations. I got many and didn't know what was happening till about 20 minutes in: St. Patrick's Day is on Tuesday. Most people are having their parties tonight. Dammit. I did pick up some beer, cabbage, and corned beef in addition to my other necessities out of holiday cheerfulness. As I left, 6 guys were getting a little rowdy and I just got into the Oldsmobile as normal. One of them, seeing me open the car and put my stuff up goes, "Is that your Oldsmobile!?" Yes. "DUDE! That car is awesome!" The more sober friend says, "Yeah, he likes those old cars." Another friend says something like, "You mean that old piece of shit." The original guy goes on to tell smartass guy how he doesn't know what he's talking about and that older cars are way better than newer cars even if they look like crap. I told them I like it and I feel like a hitman when I drive it. Because, quite frankly, I do. I feel like I belong in a Quintin Tarantino movie or something. All I'm missing is some cornball funk, excessive swearing, awesome wardrobe and a Samuel L. Jacksonesque sidekick. Yeah.

I find it hard to believe there's only one episode of Flight of the Conchords left this season. Boo. That sucks. Oh well. That just means season 2 will be on DVD soon. That's all I got for tonight. I'm assuming the rest of my evening will be spent in excruciating painful diarrhea because I ate a whole cabbage cooked up in some cabbage and noodles and I plan on making strawberry shortcakes tonight. Yeah, my ass will be burning. My postpartum hemmerhoid will probably come back but that's ok, I got a bunch of witch hazel and cotton balls. Yeah, gross. It works.

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