I feel the need to express my sorrow and annoyance to you, Internet stranger.
Yesterday I was 5 feet away from being hit by this drunk driver that was being chased high-speed by 3 cop cars. Scary.
I stuck my hand in the fan of one of the coolers at our store. Ouch.
I counted about 8 guys who tried to pick me up yesterday while I was walking down town. Joy.
I won't be seeing my parents any more, they're too busy. I don't blame them, but I feel pissed that I'm pissed about it.
I have something weird with my blood that's been going on for years that is currently unidentified.
Now I'm just pissed at myself for not caring about school and letting (some of) my grades get bad in the gifted program.
Huh, life sucks, doesn't it? The funny thing is that I know there are people out there who have worse lives than my teenage, self-pitied one.
Hey, I don't really care, but tell me how horrid (or good) your week has been in the comments. That should give me some source of entertainment and give me something to think about for some five minuets.
Random + last minuet thought:
I was some British man for performing arts today selling boot legged pets. Here's the script, I was the shop keeper (and Harry):
(fast paced)
Man: Good morning, I'd like to buy a cat.
Shopkeeper: Certainly sir. I've got a lovely terrier. [indicates a box on the counter]
Man: no, I want a cat really.
Shopkeeper: [taking box off counter and then putting it back on counter as if it is a different box] Oh yeah, how about that?
Man: [looking in box] No, that's the terrier.
Shopkeeper: Well, it's as near as dammit.
Man: Well what do you mean? I want a cat.
Shopkeeper: Listen, tell you what. I'll file its legs down a bit, take its snout out, stick a few wires through its cheeks. There you are, a lovely pussy cat.
Man: Its not a proper cat.
Shopkeeper: What do you mean?
Man: Well it wouldn't miaow.
Shopkeeper: Well it would howl a bit.
Man: No, no, no, no. Er, have you got a parrot?
Shopkeeper: No, I'm afraid not actually guv, we're fresh out of parrots. I'll tell you what though ... I'll lop its back legs off, make good, strip the fur, stick a couple of wings on and staple on a beak of your own choice. [taking small box and rattling it] No problem. Lovely parrot.
Man: How long would that take?
Shopkeeper: Oh, let me see ... er, stripping the fur off, no legs ... [calling] Harry! Can you do a parrot job on this terrier straight away?
Harry: [off-screen] No, I'm still putting a tuck in the Airedale, and then I got the frogs to let out.
Shopkeeper: Friday?
Man: No I need it for tomorrow. It's a present.
Shopkeeper: Oh dear, it's a long job. You see parrot conversion ... Tell you what though, for free, terriers make lovely fish. I mean I could do that for you straight away. Legs off, fins on, stick a little pipe through the back of its neck so it can breathe, bit of gold paint, make good ...
Man: You'd need a very big tank.
Shopkeeper: It's a great conversation piece.
Man: Yes, all right, all right ... but, er, only if I can watch.
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2 comments:
Hiya bihotch. In science, we're doing IR (independant research) and anything that could possibly go wrong with my progect, is. Gr. Mom got Fired from the JCC and quit from the place down the street from the liqour store. Yipee. Oh! and Wednesday we had a BBall game against the JCC day school. The Cuh-Rushed us. 45 to 15. And then, the next day, Moses Brown killed us, 38 to 6. But you know what the coaches said? "You guys played such a better game Thursday!" Huzzah. REALLY. Because youy know that we don't mind it when our asses get kicked, just so long as we play a great game, have good form, and are great sports. Almost all of the girls admitted that they were going home and crying.
Hiya bihotch. In science, we're doing IR (independant research) and anything that could possibly go wrong with my progect, is. Gr. Mom got Fired from the JCC and quit from the place down the street from the liqour store. Yipee. Oh! and Wednesday we had a BBall game against the JCC day school. The Cuh-Rushed us. 45 to 15. And then, the next day, Moses Brown killed us, 38 to 6. But you know what the coaches said? "You guys played such a better game Thursday!" Huzzah. REALLY. Because youy know that we don't mind it when our asses get kicked, just so long as we play a great game, have good form, and are great sports. Almost all of the girls admitted that they were going home and crying.
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