Thursday, April 8, 2010

Are all teeny boppers this stupid or is the northwest rotting their brains?

I had this ravenous craving for little ceasar's crazy bread today. So, after class, I drive all the way across town to the only little ceasar's within forty miles. I walk in, a total mess in my too-long, too-ripped, soaking-wet-from-the-stupid-amount-of-rain sweatpants, hair and make-up putting Chris Crocker to shame.

In my peripheral vision I notice a burst of color. "oh god please no teeny boppers please not today" I'm begging the world don't make me deal with them. Apparently, the universe had other plans, plans that included putting a homicidally hungry lunatic in a room with a horde of creatures who look like rainbow brite and marilyn manson got together and threw up an army.

So, I'm standing in line (which is taking far too long by the way, isn't the point of little ceasar's their quick service?), when one of the goth-barbies gets a text message. And here, readers, is where the story takes a turn.


Gothbie #1 (screams at the top of her lungs): LYYYYYKEEEE what is a pole-ter-GEE-ist?

(say it with me now POLE-ter-GEE-ist.)

Gothbie #2 or 47 I'm not sure: "Whaaaat? pole-ter-GEE-ist? I don't know what a pole-ter-GEE-ist is, why, what did she say?"

Gothbie #1: "She said she was watching pole-ter-GEE-ist. Like, is that a new reality show or dating game or something?"

By this time the occupants of the store, the rest of us all being well over the age of 15, start to get restless. The girls are talking REALLY outrageously loud and really? who doesn't know what the poltergeist is? seriously? One lady in a business suit is standing in the corner mouth gaping in awe of the outright display of moron-ism.

So, here I come wonderful hero to save the day!

Me: "It's polterGEIST. Like a ghost, you know, the movie? She's watching a movie about a ghost!"

Well, I guess how dare I speak to such magnificent specimens of the human race because they just stared at me like I was completely insane for helping them out. Or maybe they were staring at the bread in my hair and the marinara sauce on my front that had just been bombed upon me by an uncontrolled three-year-old.

meh, either way I got my crazy bread.

Monday, April 5, 2010

I'm sick, and when I get sick I get whiny. And by whiny I mean so beyond annoying that if you're around me for more than 2.5 milliseconds you'll most likely be pulling your hair out straining not to pick up the nearest gun and put one of us out of our misery.

When I'm sick it's like my brain and body are at war with each other. My brain is hyper-as-fck, like a severely ADHD child who desperately needs medication but her parents are too broke/busy pretending their child is normal to actually give their kid/it's teachers a break.

Brain: holy fck I'm bored! bored!! BORED!!! BOOOOOORED!!!!!!!!! Body get your lazy ass up! let's do something! let's redecorate the bathroom! it needs a new sink. and a new coat of paint. oh I know! let's go for a jog! let's take the dog to the park! let's go play frisbee golf. let's paint the fucking mona lisa. ANYTHING!

Body: meh. no, thanks. laying here sounds good.

Brain: seriously, I'm going to punch you. get up, put your feet on the floor and move it you heifer.

Body: Brain I'm warning you, if you don't shut up I'm going to....do nothing. I can't even move. I'm exhausted. Lifting a fucking finger even feels like an hour long work out. I'm not moving, I'm going to sit here and stare at nothing, that is that.

Brain: FINE! But I'm going to make mouth so fucking unbelievably whiny that no one will want to be around you or help you! MWUAHAHAHAHA retaliation is beast!

Body: meh.

One fatal flaw of being a 20-something in school and living with your mother is this, she knows exactly how many days of school you've missed. So when you're really sick and can't go to school she guilt trips you as if you're fifteen, and as if she still can tell you you if you don't go to school you want get ice cream. or money for the movies. or to see your boyfriend this weekend. and by-god-almighty, you will NOT be getting that new super-awesome-latest-technology-device-every-has-to-have if you don't go to school young lady.

Sure mom, I'll go to school. My classmates really love it when their neighbor is hacking up a lung on top of them.

"dude, did you just cough your lung on me?"
*blank face*
"sorry"
what? doesn't everyone want bloody lungs coughed on to them at least once in their lifetime? ....no? my mistake.