WHY DOES YOUR DOG HAVE SO MUCH DIARRHEA?!

So, it's been a while. I have no excuses besides pure laziness.

The new job is nice and fun. So far I got to see Ronnie from the Jersey Shore (I was too scared to talk to him), I got to see one of my favorite bands perform in the station (I was too scared to talk to them), and I got to drive around the equipment manager of said band around all day! (I was too scared to talk to him).

I think the main thing to be learned here is that I am scared of everybody.

So I don't know if I'm paranoid, (obviously there's a rather good chance that I am) but I think the people from Burger King were making fun of me today for ordering my chicken sandwich WITH cheese and WITHOUT mayonnaise. I don't know why they would have done so, but I swear I heard them talking shit while I was waiting.

On another note, I have confessions:

1) It just took me three tries to spell "sandwich"

2) It just took me four tries to spell "mayonnaise"

3) With all this being said, I like to point out that I do in fact, have an English degree.

It's funny because every time people yell at me for not knowing what an "adverb" is, or what a "proverb" is, because "JEN YOU HAVE AN ENGLISH DEGREE", I would like to point out that WE LEARN THAT SHIT IN MIDDLE SCHOOL and NOT IN COLLEGE. In COLLEGE we learn about IMPORTANT things like WRITING and LITERATURE and shit. So whenever somebody yells at me because I have an English degree and I don't know what the FUCK an adverb is, I want to basically tell them to shut up because we learn that SHIT in grade school.

But do I remember? Hell no.

Anyway, this post was (once again) started over a month ago and I just neglected the draft and picked it back up tonight. It's NOVEMBER! Where has the time gone!? I cannot complain because this is my favorite time of year (Halloween-New Years). I love the cold weather, I love wearing scarves and mittens, and I fucking love snow. And snowboarding of course. My boyfriend, (let's call him...Snoopy) hates the cold more than anyone I know. He complains about it a lot, especially when he is working. So the other day he was saying how he hates the cold and I say what any nice, caring girlfriend would say.

Which happened to be:

"Yeah, do your tears freeze when you cry about it?"

Maybe this is why I'm single most of the time.

Anyways, my sister Sally is musically retarded. So I always bet her different amounts of money when a song comes on that I'd like her to identify that I don't think she can. Of course, it's always alternative rock/indie rock that I ask her, so I don't have to give any money away. (who do I look like, Donald Trump?) So the other day I asked her "Who sings this song?" (It was Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit", which everybody and their grandmother knows) so I clearly thought I had her. Her first two guesses were Green Day and Sublime, because she claims "those are the only two bands she knows in this genre of music", which is hilarious by itself. 

So then she asks if she can have a hint. Of course, this is the girl who thinks Green Day sings "Smells Like Teen Spirit". If I can tell her the first letter of the band. So I lower the original wager of 5 dollars to 4 dollars of course, and tell her "N." She then comes out of nowhere and says "NIRVANA?!" and I cannot believe that I just lost 4 dollars because my musically retarded sister knows who Nirvana is. So then I try to fool her some more and ask who the lead singer is, and for some reason she comes out with "Kurt Cobain." What the fuck? Then I really thought I had her, and decided to trick question her ass and ask "How old is he?" and she says "27." 

At this point I BUST OUT EVIL LAUGHING. I HAD her. Then I say what I was planning to say when I knew she wouldn't get the trick question. So I yell out, "HAHA, TRICK QUESTION. HE'S DEAD!"

To which she calmly replies, "I know, but he was 27 when he died. I watched a show on it." Still trying to get her, I asked, "Who was his girlfriend?" and she replied with "Courtney Love." 

Then I just fucking gave up on life. 

But whatever, sometimes things don't make sense. Like in the movie "Valentine's Day", why is Ashton Kutcher's best friend GEORGE LOPEZ?! 

My other sister Lucy called me a "hippie" today. I don't understand why she would say that. I mean, yeah, I burn incense, listen to Marley, wear moccasins every day, and occasionally play hacky sack. I mean, come on. So NOT a hippie. 

Speaking of burning incense, I guess you know you're really tired if you light a stick, walk away, and then two seconds later return and get scared because you thought you just walked into a whispy spider string, then to find out it's just the smoke. 

-Jenny

"Like late afternoon, early night time." We call that 'evening'.

Disclaimer! This is a post I had started a few months ago but never finished. Some of this material may be old. Such as my sister's puppy being a small puppy and the parts about me being sad, dateless, and single on Friday nights. Yes, it's hard to believe that someone has finally found me attractive and tolerable, even thought I burp all the time and pick my nose.


You know what's funny? My sister has this new black lab puppy named Colby, and he just wants to be friends (we think) with my cat Diego. Of course, Diego wants absolutely NOTHING to do with him, because he's a little punk ass. Diego is like an old woman who doesn't want to be friends with a 16 year old boy who wears his pants riding low on his ass and listening to loud rap music. That's the relationship here. So my brother-in-law, Franklin, thinks that his "badass clumsy puppy" can kick the shit out of my ninja awesome stealth cat. I really hate to have this argument with him, but every time I get, I simply tell him that no, he cannot, and if he wants to put it to the test...Diego and I are so game. She will knock Colby's dick in the dirt so fast that he won't even know that he HAD a dick.

Nothing else is really new, I lead a boring life. Franklin threw a surprise Master's graduation party for my sister Sally and when we were pulling up to the house, she thought it was for me. Yeah Sally, you just graduated with a MASTER'S DEGREE and I just sit on the couch all day until I work the overnight shift at Shaw's, this party is totally for me and all my well-doings. Everyone is totally going to bow to me when I walk in and kiss my feet. Idiot, this party is for you because you're smart.

At said party, my 11 year old cousin was there with her boyfriend. It was here that I realized that I should probably feel bad about myself. Because she is here with her boyfriend and here I am, drinking a shit ton by myself and staring at my ever growing beer belly and wondering, "why don't I have a boyfriend?" then realizing shortly after, "oh right, that's why."

The same thing happened a few Friday nights ago. Where my little cousin came over with this boyfriend of hers. I was in the pool (on like, my eleventh beer) wearing my yellow sunglasses and wondering if anybody realized that I was peeing in the pool. (25 and single on a Friday night, bitches!) And I was basically finding myself constantly saying in my head, "WHY DON'T YOU TWO GET A ROOM!" even though at 11 years old you don't do anything besides eat lunch together at school and play online games with each other. MAYBE hold hands, but that's a major stretch. You're a BALLER if you do that at 11.

But anyway.

Now that we have a pool table, my dad has been super anal about it. (hah). I'm surprised he lets us play at all. So, the other day, my mom and I realized that there's a little scratch on the fabric. My mom was freaking out, but said that he hadn't noticed it yet. (This is seriously tiny, by the way). So every time he would come and play, we would all hold our breath when he would go close to it. This probably went on for 3 weeks.

It is now, when my dad bought a tv to put in the pool room. When he was setting the tv up, he laid out all the accessories on the table. (Which is surprising to me, as he basically doesn't even let you breathe near it.) And yes, it is here where he sees it, the scratch!

(Disclaimer: I was not here for this, this is coming from my mother)

I guess he asked my mom "what the hell this was" and she had said she didn't know, and then this is what she did......

SHE BLAMED IT ON HIM! SHE TOTALLY DID!

She said that it must have happened when he put a buncha shit on the pool table! This lady has got balls!

But it serves him right, because this is the man that makes a whole buncha dumb mistakes and blames it on everybody else. Like the time where he RAMMED into my Volvo and blamed it on me. This happened while I was sleeping.


This is also the guy that fell asleep outside last night.


Anyways, I guess that's it for now. When I think of something funny, I will be sure to write it down so I can remember, instead of writing these short posts every two years.


-Jenny.

Did I Really Just Say the Word "Totally" To The Woman Who Called To Set Up an Interview? Yes. Yes I Did.

You know what? I feel like a lot of weird shit has been happening lately.

Here is a list:

1) Jobs that seem to be out of my league are giving me a chance. Who the HELL would want to hire a little girl with an English degree for a marketing company? Yeah sure, I don't know SHIT about sales, but I can write one HELL of an essay on any classic literature novel. Oh AND I can bitch you out if you use the wrong forms of "your, you're" and "their, they're, and there". Oh. and if you are wondering what the coolest story of Edgar Allan Poe's is (that ISN'T one of the ones that everybody and their GRANDMOTHER knows), I can totally help you out. Just saying.

2) That awkward moment when you check some cute guy out who is wearing a Beatles T shirt and cool hair and realize that there might be two problems. He might be retarded and/or he might be under 20 years old. Believe me, this is a new low for me. I get it. And I don't mean really retarded, I mean like maybe isn't completely normal.

3) I'm currently drinking white wine out of a small plastic Panera Bread cup. Like the ones that they give to you if you want a cup of ice.

4) I went hiking yesterday and we basically climbed up rocks for about a mile. (if that). First of all, after about a minute I realized that my breathing sounded like I was going into labor with triplets. Second of all, all I could think about during the hike was that we were going to eat Panera sandwiches when we got to the top, which proves the fact that I am a fat kid at heart and really should look like that fat kid from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.

Or like this perhaps...

By the way, I do this in the mirror every day. No joke.


5) This kind of goes with #2 except it's way less embarrassing but way more creepy.
That awkward moment when you are in Cumberland Farms and fall instantly in love with the guy in front of you because of his long hair and his shoes. (The only two things I look at when checking guys out) and then see him get into his car in the parking lot and drive away and for a SPLIT second think about following him.

6) Lately the most intelligent conversation I've had at work is after listening to a song with the chorus of "Hey, it's the 4th of July!" and me saying out loud, "it most certainly is NOT!"

7) I have drank tea that is supposed to help with the memory and sometimes it seems that stoners can remember more stuff than me. Maybe I am doing something wrong here.


Anyway, when I watch "Snow White and the Huntsman", I don't know if Kristen Stewart's british accent is really really GOOD, or really really BAD. It's one of those things that I just don't know which it is. Or maybe it's my brain that is telling me that she is still Bella Swan, who is obsessed with vampires and always tries to kill herself so she can be the martyr. You don't fool me, Kristen. You'll always be that girl who likes to have sex with stone people.

Chris Helmsworth on the other hand. You can be anything you want as long as you stay sexy as hell.

I just thought of his brother Liam which made me think of Miley Cyrus. I follow her on Twitter (SHUT UP.) and recently she changed her profile pic which was basically her in what looks like a blazer and nothing on underneath. And what is she doing? Holding her boob. Just one of them, because you can't see the other one. This along with her drastic hair cut and her tattoos makes me think, "YOU WERE ON THE DISNEY CHANNEL FOR LIKE, 10 YEARS!" You were HANNAH MONTANA! You don't just play Hannah Montana on the DISNEY channel and then once you grow up start shaving your hair and holding your boob! And Demi Lovato is another one! She was on the Disney Channel too and then she had drug problems and self mutilation problems. People people people, Disney is supposed to be where dreams come true, not holding your own boob and doing drugs! Jus sayin. You guys should be ashamed of yourself.

Song of the day:
"Blue Jeans" Lana Del Ray


-Jenny

My Middle Finger Just Keeps Sticking Up.

Do you want to know what I'll never understand? THERE IS STILL NO TWILIGHT VIDEO GAME.

So. Anyway. Speaking of Twilight.

Because I am single, I have been re-reading "50 Shades of Grey". Don't ask any questions. I would really just say it's because I have an awful book memory and forget most of the storyline, but who am I kidding. I'm reading it for the sex scenes.

The fact that I have read this book at 5 A.M. is funny to me. It's like, "rise and shine, time for some bondage!" or "rise and shine, I have a present for you! I'll give you a hint...it's a flogger."

The funny thing about "50 Shades of Grey" is that I really don't think that normal people can function on 3 hours of sleep each night combined with 15 hours (give or take) of sex. Shit does not add up. I'm all like, "guys, don't you want to take a short break for gatorade and oranges? (I mean, that's what I did at my soccer games...) maybe visit a church? Brush up on the Bible? Eat a full meal?" I mean, there are so many things that they have to do that doesn't involve being in the sack that I just don't see them doing enough of.

I guess in all reality, if this wasn't an absurd work of extreme fiction, these characters would be dead. Death by sex.

AND it's hilarious that Anastasia complains about this man! She has the hottest, richest, sweetest (in a way), caring (in a way), sex god of a boyfriend, and she's bitching about their relationship! She's constantly like "blah blah I'm not good enough for him wahhhh I can't be what he wants," and I'm like "BITCH this is your first boyfriend and he turns out to be a rich hot sex god, what the FUCK are you complaining about?!" That's like complaining about winning the goddamned LOTTERY. Gah, SOME PEOPLE!

I also was reading these books while watching Hannah Montana the other night. I was like "Is this an oxymoron? I'm pretty sure this is an oxymoron."
But anyway.

Funny story:

After an interview, I was walking out of it and was sweating like a fat kid on a treadmill. I was so nervous and the nervousness did not go away as I was driving away. So I decided, mainly since I was dressed so nice, I was like..."Since I look important, I'm going to take myself out for a beer."

"I'll look all sophisticated and shit."

So I sat down at the bar and got my beer. Then I decided, since I was dressed so well and looked important, I should start reading the New York Times. (I had the app on my phone). So I pulled it up and started reading. And for a moment, I felt like a grown up. And I smiled.

Then it hit me that "this is fucking BORING," and switched over to Facebook, where I filled myself with people making spelling and grammatical errors and complaining about how they ran out of cigarettes.

Which honestly makes me question people's minds. I was working with this boy the other night, and I don't hate him, don't get me wrong. He is a little asian boy and is definitely a nerd.

So he asks me what my degree was in. I tell him English with a writing concentration. He seems impressed. Then he asks me what books I like to read. I tell him "mostly fiction, I like the classics." He is silent for a little bit and asks me what I thought about The Lord of the Rings books. This is obviously very important to him (his pimply face and very obvious V-card still intact gave him away), so I tell him quite gently that I never read them and I have absolute no intention to. He is heart broken, so I start to tell him that I have TRIED to read them in the past, and couldn't go further than 5 pages because I honestly thought I was going to die of boredom.

It was hilarious how flabbergasted he was.

And I kid you not, this is what this little punk had the nerve to say to me:

"So, you're telling me, you were an English major...and you never read Lord of the Rings?" and he was LAUGHING like I was doing something terribly wrong and pity on me for being so stupid. And I'm over here like, since when was Lord of the Rings part of the curriculum? Oh, I'M sorry, I must have missed out on a bunch of short people with hairy feet who eat two of every meal and go to the ends of the earth to return a FUCKING ring while I was reading Jane Austen, Edgar Allan Poe, Toni Morrison, and William Faulkner.

Then he was talking about how excited he was that it was school vacation this week because him and his friends were going to have a Lord of the Rings marathon one night.

Then I walked away.

It reminds me of getting lunch with my mom last week. Everybody at the bar was talking about current events and stuff on the news, which I clearly know NOTHING about, and felt really bad for not being able to contribute anything to the discussion. "Hey, does anyone want to talk about the symbolism in 'The Fall of the House of Usher' by E.A. Poe? Does anyone want to talk about the Bronte sisters?"

If only these were the topics of discussion in shady towny bars. They should probably create a literary bar. Maybe I should be the one to open one...

You know what I love at the end of the day? A state of the art EXORCISM burp where it lasts at least 5 mississippi seconds, your lips jiggle, and you can taste every single thing you ate and drank that day. AND of course, sounds like you just exorcised a nasty bitch of a demon.


And before I go-lesson learned:

Never throw your beer caps around the house. You may be golden for a few days, but eventually your sister's puppy will find it (wherever the fuck it was), bring it out into the open, and show everyone

Can Your Brain Leak Out Through Your Nose? Uh...I'm Asking For a Friend...

So it's been like a month. I had in my head a bunch of material I wanted to discuss here, but it just builds up over the weeks. So do I remember all of it? NO! But I'll just start to ramble and maybe everything will come back to me. (It won't.)

First things first. My sister.

You know, she's really not all that funny most of the time. (I'm not mean, she knows she's not funny.) But sometimes, she says something that is so funny it makes up for years of not being funny. And I mean YEARS.

So I wake up at 10 am the other morning (do NOT judge me.) and I have 3 text messages from just Sally. (Should I still call her Sally? I think I revealed her real name in a previous post? I think I'll still call her Sally...?)

Here is the first text: (word for word).

8:35 am
"What does it mean if your nose is running with yellow liquid boogs?"

I don't answer because I am sleeping.

"Is it brain matter you think"

I don't answer because I am sleeping.

Then she must have started to get worried about her boogs because this one came at...

8:49 am
"I think I might drop dead at any time."

So...when I wake up, I comfort her the only way a sister can. I simply tell her that I think it would only be brain matter if it was coming out of her ears as well. And that settled that.

I guess a lot of funny things have been happening to me lately, because the other day, I was at Cornerstones. And it was late at night, so there was barely anyone there. Because all the Carver townies get their drank on in the morning and/or during the day, so when it's 10-12 pm, nobody is out. So, the bartender was super nice, and she was trying to find something on the TV. She comes across Duck Dynasty and Twilight.

Now, I don't really know what Duck Dynasty is all about, but there are men with scary beards that wander around the woods in flannel shirts. I don't really trust them, just like I don't trust people that don't drink. So, of course this is the show that wins the decision.

After about 15 minutes, I thought I was using my inside voice when I said that "I hate this show," but apparently it was an Irish whisper because the very nice bartender was like "Oh! Put on Twilight! I love Twilight!" and hands me the clicker.

And because I'm such a nice person, I stated that "everyone would hate me here if I put on Twilight." (There was me, two friends, and about 2 other old men.) After I said that, the old man closest to me said something along the lines of "I love Twilight, but the books are so much better." To which I WHIP my head towards him and exclaim "...DID YOU READ THE BOOKS!?!" because OBVIOUSLY this is the most exciting thing that's ever happened to me, and he said "Of course, I'm a 'twi hard'". (He actually called himself that.) So then we got into a discussion about the big surprise that happens in the last movie that wasn't in the book, blah blah blah.

And then we talked about my number one problem with Twilight. Edward's ability to get an erection when he has no blood running through his veins.

Actually, that sounds really weird when I say that. It wasn't creepy, I swear. I was simply saying that to my friend, and the older man overheard me. So we asked his opinion. I forgot what he said, but it wasn't that funny anyway.

Anyway, after talking about how my best friend once bit a heineken cap off the bottle, someone told me "well, that's not impressive because they are twist offs..." which is the dumbest thing I've ever heard. Yeah, OKAY. Heineken caps are twist offs for maybe the HULK and BATMAN! Maybe it wouldn't have pissed me off so much if he wasn't pretending like he knew everything. So I stuck to my guns and assured this idiot that heineken caps are in fact NOT twist offs. If it's one thing I know, it's beer caps.

But not my dad, because he went up to someone on the beach and asked for a bottle opener to open his bud light.

.........

I can just imagine my dad. At the beach with a bunch of bud lights. Then he realizes that he doesn't have a bottle opener. So he wigs out and goes to the college kids next to him and says in a panicked voice, "Do you guys have a bottle opener? I can't open my beers" and the college kids just taking it from him, twisting the cap off, and giving it back.

I wonder what these kids thought of him. Maybe he would have seemed at least a LITTLE bit cooler if he wasn't wearing a neon yellow visor.

...And of course, if he knew that bud lights were twist offs. Jus sayin.

Heh, my phone rang this morning, and it "half woke" me up. I thought it was my alarm so I went to "swipe across" to shut it off, when in reality I "swiped across" to answer the phone. Haha, that must have been awkward for them. It was an unknown number too HA.

There was so much more that I had to discuss. But I just can't remember what they were. Other than the fact that I forced my sister into watching "Sinister" and she cried during one of the scary parts.

-Jenny.

I Flipped Off An Old Man Today.

Reader's note: I started this post in early January. I am now just picking it back up. That is all. Please continue.

Okay, first of all, I'd like to describe the living situation I have currently in my house. Here it is:

We don't put the heat on. Like at all.

AND, whenever I sneak around and secretly turn the heat on (not unlike Oliver Twist sneaking around, all dirty and grimy, asking for another piece of bread or whatever the fuck he was asking for), my dad almost INSTANTLY bombs the thermostat, looking around like somebody just got shot, saying "who turned up the thermostat to 60 in the middle of winter?!" And I'm all like "OH, I'm sorry dad. I can SEE my BREATH. My bad. I'll just go ahead and turn this back off."

Anyway. I thought talking to yourself was a bad thing in general. Then, I started paying more attention to my everyday life, and here is what I realized. Alongside talking to myself, I started doing it in different voices. Like, I would say something in my own voice, and then I would repeat it in...sort of like a Gremlin voice. Then I would say something else in a sort of "Mr. Bean" voice. Then I laugh hysterically at myself. I think this is where the line between "a little crazy" and "batshit fucking looney tunes out to lunch crazy" is drawn.

Anyway. Speaking of crazy...I've now lost track of how many times I've seen The Perks of Being a Wallflower. I lost count after five.

Well, the Oscars went down on Sunday night. That was interesting to watch. Seth Macfarlene made fun of the movie "Flight" with sock puppets, then sang a song about boobs. My favorite actress won best actress and tripped up the stairs on her way to the stage. I almost cried when Anne Hathaway made her speech. And I also almost cried when the Les Mis cast sung a buncha songs. Then I got up and left while Adele sang her stupid fucking song.

Speaking of, I find it incredibly funny that KELLY OSBOURNE was back in the studio watching the ten million hours of red carpet shit and picking apart every woman and their dresses. I'm sitting here all like, "Kelly, you have PINK HAIR and your father looks like a zombie and is dumber than a potato, and you're saying that ANNE HATHAWAY'S dress looks bad? And you're what, some sort of fashion barista? Look at you, I feel like I should hit you with a bat and gather up all the candy that comes out, you dumb pinata."

But that's just this person's opinion.

I find it also funny that last month when I originally started writing this post, I had named it "I Flipped Off An Old Man Today." It's funny because just the other day I flipped off a group of 10-12 year olds. Why did I do it? They almost made me run them over with my car. You see, my neighborhood kids aren't like smart neighborhood kids. When they're rollerblading (nobody has told them yet that rollerblading is for the gays), and they see a car coming, they don't get the fuck out of the way. So, I have to sit and wait until they feel like slowly moving out of the road. Then what happens when I start to drive? They basically run into my car. These kids have brains the size of dried up raisins.

Anyway, some part of me wished that I did nudge him a bit. Not to get him seriously hurt, maybe have him just fall down or like a sprained wrist or something. Nothing too extreme.

I'll end with that.

-Jenny

I Think The Neighbors Can See Through My Window...

First of all, I forgot to mention in my last post, (a long time ago) that when we found seats at the Breaking Dawn premiere, they were in the middle of the row and we passed this woman who thought she was Snooki, wearing these fuzzy boots that pretty much looked like she was literally wearing animals on her feet. So what does mom do? She starts petting this woman's boots, saying, "Oh I LOVE them!"

It's like, you never thought you'd have to tell someone to not pet someone's boots. You never think during your speeches of "don't talk to strangers" or "don't talk with your mouth full" that you'd have to also throw in "don't pet boots that look like animals."

Anyway.

What have I been up to? Well you know, we played 4 games of Clue last weekend. Now, here's something everyone should know. Sally has been cheating at Clue for the last 15 years or so. She calls it "strategy". I call it "fucking cheating". So anyway, she goes on, cheating her ass off, and I just play the game. I think I'm the only one that's too dumb to come up with a strategy of their own, so they just stupidly go on playing the game like a 9 year old would. But since everyone had their clever little strategies, I came up with my own.

When the part of the game where someone makes a guess and another player hands them a card that they had, I would just make a complete guess of what it was. I mean, it's a 1 out of 3....you know?

I know you're dying to know...did it work? No. Not once.

So Franklin made a guess, was wrong, then texted the answer to me. You should have seen Sally's face when she found out she lost. TO ME. Of all people. If you're losing ANY game to me, you should become instantly depressed. I mean like, can't-get-out-of-bed depressed.

Speaking of board games and me losing them, I recently played Rockstar Life with my 10 year old cousin. It's basically like regular LIFE, but all rockstar. Instead of a car, you have a van. Instead of getting kids, you get fans. Etc etc.

Now, I obviously lost. But I'll tell you, I landed on every single "Get a fan!" spot. And some of them were "Pick up two fans!" And I made every one of them boys, just because. So it got to a point where I had to leave one "fan" on the side of the road to possibly get mugged and raped because there was not enough room in my van. When I got my first "fan", I made him sit in the very back. You know, where boys belong...far away from me. Then, as they built up, they had filled my whole van.

So it kind of looked a little bit like this:

This is after I picked up the guy that had to be left on the road. We decided that it would be safer for him to ride in the trunk.

 Some may call my little LIFE girl a "slut", but I digress.

I still don't know what digress means.


Anyway, on to other things. Such as having lunch at Cornerstones and having this weird man sit by me. (I know what you're saying..."A WEIRD guy? At CORNERSTONES?!" I know, I was surprised too.) He has this old school cell phone that he puts on the bar, which later rings. Very loudly. Like the entire place can hear it.

What's his ringtone?


Katy Perry's "Last Friday Night." I'm not fucking kidding.

So, I think this guy is going to be really embarrassed, like he would try to scramble for it, to shut it off. BUT NO! This guy took his time answering it, slowly picking it up, looking at who was calling, etc. It was to a point where I felt embarrassed FOR him. I was like DearJesusJustPickUpTheDamnPhoneBeforeYouReallyMakeAnAssOutOfYourself.

I almost picked it up for him, yelling in his face: "DO YOU KNOW HOW THIS MAKES YOU LOOK?!"

But anyway. Poor guy...?


Anyway, speaking of embarrassing. My best friend Schroeder had a few drinks, and whenever he drinks, he craves McDonalds. He always yells that he wants "SIX MCCHICKENS AND TWO NUMBER SIXES." After asking him at a later date what a number six was, he said it was just another chicken sandwich. "GIVE ME SIX OF THEM SHITTY ONES AND TWO OF THE REALLY GOOD ONES." he also says.

So we told him to call McDonalds to see if they possibly delivered. Which of course, he did. When this poor sixteen year old girl told him no, he responded with "Oh that's really unfortunate. Have a wonderful night."

I guess that's all I have to say for now, other than that if I had a penny for every time my shadow scared me this week, I could move to London.

That and, when Sally and I walked by this guy working under the hood of his car in the parking lot with his huge crack hanging out, Sally says "That was the biggest buttcrack I've ever seen! It was like a crater! How does he clean it?!"


How DOES he clean it? The world may never know. That is all.


-Jenny