Sunday, June 12, 2011
Saturday This And That
The children are having a sleepover at their grandparents'. The Man is asleep. SMELLS LIKE FREEDOM TO ME, B*TCHES!
Today my sister and I hung out. We wanted to go to our pathetic "downtown" area to scope out a few stores we like there. You could have rolled a bowling ball down the sidewalk and not hit anyone. For miles. Oh, wait--that's not entirely true; maybe that ball would have hit that guy who crossed the street a few times, whilst lugging a carry-on suitcase. Yes, that guy who said; "Hey!" after we had passed by and then; "come over here!" to us.
We discussed this: if we'd gone OVER THERE, could anything good possibly have come from that? Should I have marched back there, all SALLY HAPPY, and naive:
Me: "Yes? What can I do for you?"
Here's what else was annoying about our little shopping trip: four men, as they were driving past, sloooooooooooowed right down to check us out. The first time, as this man was driving by, he was driving at walking speed for a second, and his face was completely turned toward us. What the hell?!? I thought, with mild annoyance, and we moved along. By the fourth car, I became uber pissed. What the f*ck?! Did they actually think we might be HOOKERS?
Do I LOOK LIKE A FREAKING HOOKER?!? Does a hooker go out with capri pants, and a pale blue cotton shirt, with her MOM PURSE slung over her shoulder?
The only thing that redeemed that little trip was the gourmet cheese store. I love you, gourmet cheese store. I purchased some nice hunks of 1) applewood smoked cheddar, 2) some kind of Dublin cheddar, and 3) cheese with carmelized onion. HELLO HAPPINESS.
When I got home, my email informed me that I had a couple of new friend requests in my Myspace account. I think there is only one reason I keep my myspace profile: it's so damned entertaining every once and a while.
And behold! I had friend requests, but I also had some messages. I checked out the messages first:
Hi Pretty woman,
How 're you doing? am from United State of America...am a contractor, Married before but divorced... Am looking for a serious Relationship that Will lead to marriage,pretty woman,As i was seaching i come across your profile so I decide to say hello to you also to let you know how beautiful are. i like you Can we be friends?
Take good care of yourself.......while i wait for your Reply
Does that mean I'm supposed to take care of myself while he waits for my reply, and then do what the hell I want after that? I'm confused. Oh well, on to the next one:
Hi there..,was just going thru here and finding friends i can get together with and hopefully get to know better and maybe it sure leads to something serious and i came across your picture here,,i must confess i love what i saw and would definitely love to get to know u better if you dont mind.. am like your normal guy next door,simple,easy going,calm,matured,responsible,honest,God fearing,intelligent&very comfortable,,romantic,nice,funny&absolutely adorable.I hope my lil profile here interests u and u did like to get back to me... u can email me directly at [blank] its at yahoo dot com....... i really hope i get to know u better&u write me back asap... take care
Hoo! I am a popular girl TODAY! I probably could have made an easy 500 bucks downtown too, if only I could have...could have....blech. Nevermind.
Okay, so that was fun. Let's check out the three friend requests. One is from a musician, one is from some lame sounding metal band, and the third is
SWEET MOTHER OF MUFFINS, THAT BOY IS RIPPED. He's also only wearing a (gulp) towel to cover his 23 year old self....
Let's file that one under "request pending", hur, hur, hur.
Oh crap, I accidently hit "accept" instead of "ignore" to the friend request from that rock band. Oh dear god, they're terrible. It's that awful SPEED METAL GUITARS DRUMS WALL OF NOISE SOME IDIOT SCREAMING, SCREAMING, SCREAMING OUT HIS UNINTELLIGIBLE MESSAGE....
ack...note to self: do NOT hit "PLAY" for any more of their songs. Oh, but dig this--this is what they have written on their profile page:
...As you breathe rock, we breathe rock. As you feel rock, we feel rock.
Um, no. Actually, I like a soothing cocktail and a good book. Maybe some poetry, maybe not. I neither breathe, nor feel rock any longer (if I ever did), because that sh*t gives me a headache. As soon as I'm finished clacking this up, I have to find the button that undoes our new 'friendship.'
And so endeth another Saturday.