The Merry Pranksters
FRISBEE FUN WAS HAD BY ALL...
The Irritable Texan (or TIT, as I like to abbreviate him), just doesn't know when to quit. TIT's crimes against humanity this week included unpacking the frisbees and hassling me for not supporting the war in Iraq. He quickly found out that I have a good memory and even better aim. His aim wasn't as good as mine, as evidenced by his clocking several kids in the head- good thing they wear helmets. Lawdy chucked quite a few discs at Lucifer, who retaliated but managed to hit only himself with some unexpected boomerang action. To my further amusement, TIT, who dines with the Bush family and thinks bombs solve all problems, busted out his War CD, the one with the lyrics "War ! Huh, Good God ! What is it good for ? Absolutely nothing !"
JIHAD IS THE REASON FOR THE SEASON
I pissed off our token Muslim by asking if she was comfortable with my giving her Christmas items, and am now the biggest asshole ever for not knowing that OF COURSE she accepts Christmas gifts, and how dare I show her the courtesy of asking when I should have read her mind (which is usually occupied with the billions of imaginary slights we've dealt her each day). I inserted my head up my anus so I could see it from her point of view, then apologized for assuming she might not want to celebrate with American infidels during a differing religion's holiday, but of course my terrible offense can never be forgiven by the woman who talks non-stop about the goodness of Allah being in her heart.
MOST EXTREME ELIMINATION HAIRDO
Smoking is definately bad for your health, especially if you have a lot of styling product in your hair and wave your hands a lot while chatting with your fellow nicotine addicts.
Somehow, I managed to torch my bangs while puffing on my first cigarette in 2 years, which must have made quite an impression at the T-Mobile store when I huffed in to bitch about my malfunctioning cell phone. I wasn't yet aware that my fading pink bangs had melted into some kind of plasticized, orangy mass, and no one bothered to point it out to me, assuming I was doing some kind of punk thing. Fortunately, I have such jaggedy spikes that when the fried bundle broke off, it really didn't seem to make much of a difference.
WHY I DON'T LIKE SMALL DOGS OR MACINTOSH:
I spent a week rat-sitting at Tammy's Puppy Palace, where pee pee is the fragrance we're all wearing this season. I had to unfurl trash bags to sit on, so the urine scent in the couch cushions wouldn't seep into my clothing and follow me around town. Meanwhile, Dave's Apple had some sort of personal vendetta against my cell phone, which I noticed every time I booted the evildoer up, and which resulted in my having to get a new cell phone. Again. According to T-Mobile's and Dell's tech centers, landline + computer = A-Ok ! Cell phone + computer = not so much. Think they could have mentioned that in my user manual ?
CRAPPY HOLIDAYS
Richard and I bussed over to Topanga Plaza today, stopping at Carl's Jr. first to chow down. Like every kid I've ever known, Richard tried to negotiate for an extra dessert. This unnerved the worker drone taking our order so much that she stopped pressing random buttons and said, "He's making me nervous." Then she continued to stare at me, even though he'd shut up and was eyeing her the way you do people who might snap at any moment. I found her ignoring the kids who were running and yelling in the dining area to be much more annoying than she could possibly find Ricard, so I made sure to send him back to the counter (alone) several times to help her learn to multitask more effectively. As you all know, I'm always thinking of others.
A half-hour later, I was seized with horrible stomach cramps and suspected she'd spit some hepatic saliva on our food, or perhaps was dabbling in Santeria and had accomplished some impressive spellcasting. There's nothing like a Potentially Explosive Incident to bring out the slow and stupid in everyone between the merry-go-round and the bathroom. People wandered in front of me and then came to a halt, milling about like befuddled livestock. I swerved around them in search of a bathroom without a mile-long line in front of it, which of course will not exist again until February. While I was indisposed, Richard entertained himself by discussing his deflating balloon animal with every pedophile walking by, and by loudly announcing what I was doing to the entire store at regular intervals.
If you need me, I'll be in line for 5 more hours...
The Irritable Texan (or TIT, as I like to abbreviate him), just doesn't know when to quit. TIT's crimes against humanity this week included unpacking the frisbees and hassling me for not supporting the war in Iraq. He quickly found out that I have a good memory and even better aim. His aim wasn't as good as mine, as evidenced by his clocking several kids in the head- good thing they wear helmets. Lawdy chucked quite a few discs at Lucifer, who retaliated but managed to hit only himself with some unexpected boomerang action. To my further amusement, TIT, who dines with the Bush family and thinks bombs solve all problems, busted out his War CD, the one with the lyrics "War ! Huh, Good God ! What is it good for ? Absolutely nothing !"
JIHAD IS THE REASON FOR THE SEASON
I pissed off our token Muslim by asking if she was comfortable with my giving her Christmas items, and am now the biggest asshole ever for not knowing that OF COURSE she accepts Christmas gifts, and how dare I show her the courtesy of asking when I should have read her mind (which is usually occupied with the billions of imaginary slights we've dealt her each day). I inserted my head up my anus so I could see it from her point of view, then apologized for assuming she might not want to celebrate with American infidels during a differing religion's holiday, but of course my terrible offense can never be forgiven by the woman who talks non-stop about the goodness of Allah being in her heart.
MOST EXTREME ELIMINATION HAIRDO
Smoking is definately bad for your health, especially if you have a lot of styling product in your hair and wave your hands a lot while chatting with your fellow nicotine addicts.
Somehow, I managed to torch my bangs while puffing on my first cigarette in 2 years, which must have made quite an impression at the T-Mobile store when I huffed in to bitch about my malfunctioning cell phone. I wasn't yet aware that my fading pink bangs had melted into some kind of plasticized, orangy mass, and no one bothered to point it out to me, assuming I was doing some kind of punk thing. Fortunately, I have such jaggedy spikes that when the fried bundle broke off, it really didn't seem to make much of a difference.
WHY I DON'T LIKE SMALL DOGS OR MACINTOSH:
I spent a week rat-sitting at Tammy's Puppy Palace, where pee pee is the fragrance we're all wearing this season. I had to unfurl trash bags to sit on, so the urine scent in the couch cushions wouldn't seep into my clothing and follow me around town. Meanwhile, Dave's Apple had some sort of personal vendetta against my cell phone, which I noticed every time I booted the evildoer up, and which resulted in my having to get a new cell phone. Again. According to T-Mobile's and Dell's tech centers, landline + computer = A-Ok ! Cell phone + computer = not so much. Think they could have mentioned that in my user manual ?
CRAPPY HOLIDAYS
Richard and I bussed over to Topanga Plaza today, stopping at Carl's Jr. first to chow down. Like every kid I've ever known, Richard tried to negotiate for an extra dessert. This unnerved the worker drone taking our order so much that she stopped pressing random buttons and said, "He's making me nervous." Then she continued to stare at me, even though he'd shut up and was eyeing her the way you do people who might snap at any moment. I found her ignoring the kids who were running and yelling in the dining area to be much more annoying than she could possibly find Ricard, so I made sure to send him back to the counter (alone) several times to help her learn to multitask more effectively. As you all know, I'm always thinking of others.
A half-hour later, I was seized with horrible stomach cramps and suspected she'd spit some hepatic saliva on our food, or perhaps was dabbling in Santeria and had accomplished some impressive spellcasting. There's nothing like a Potentially Explosive Incident to bring out the slow and stupid in everyone between the merry-go-round and the bathroom. People wandered in front of me and then came to a halt, milling about like befuddled livestock. I swerved around them in search of a bathroom without a mile-long line in front of it, which of course will not exist again until February. While I was indisposed, Richard entertained himself by discussing his deflating balloon animal with every pedophile walking by, and by loudly announcing what I was doing to the entire store at regular intervals.
If you need me, I'll be in line for 5 more hours...
posted by Fredrika Krueger at 7:58 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home