I’ve been staring at my empty screen for over an hour.
I have comments on my last post that I have yet to respond to.
I have so much to say, yet my mind is blank.
I’m working on my 3rd glass of wine right now, and I can’t even feel it. I’m just trying to make my feet and back stop aching so it won’t hurt when I get up to refill my glass and go pee next time…
I’m getting too old for this shit.
As some of you may know, I’ve been working in a sporting goods store at the local mall for the holidays because I couldn’t find a job since I lost my decent paying one in August because I’m a dumbass. (Luckily for me) My best friend’s husband manages the store, and she was willing to trade him everlasting sexual favors if he hired me for the holidays.
Thank The Easter Bunny that he’s a weak man, because he knows me well.
I feel like I owe her my soul or something, but I don’t have one of those. I traded it to Satan when I was in the first grade for a McDonald’s cheeseburger and a My Little Pony.
Maybe I should make her some cookies or something…
In retrospect, I probably should have also made a better deal with Satan.
I am so physically and mentally exhausted right now that I can’t even think. My brain shut off about 4 hours ago (two hours before my 12 hour shift ended at 8pm), and hasn’t started working again since.
People were asking for one team, and I’d show them another.
I don’t really know much of anything about sports; aside from the logos, and the fact that I really like the way that the pants look on a lot of those football players. And that I think that football has way too many rules.
They should start an extreme football league where the rules include, but are not limited to: wear protective gear; no throwing feces; no vomiting on other players; steroids are encouraged; all half-time shows must include midgets, monkeys, and cheerleaders driving monster trucks (or tanks); and buy one, get one free beers at all games. (Please feel free to add any rules you think would be relevant in the comment section. If I get enough of them, I’ll write up an entirely new league of awesome. And maybe get ambitious enough to make a fantasy fantasy extreme football league that we can play in together. But probably not, because that sounds like a lot of work.)
I wish I had the mental capacity at the moment to expand on the football thing, because the stuff I’ve mentioned to the guys while we watch the games is pretty funny. I just can’t do it right now.
I went to the store after work for cat food and wrapping paper, and it took me ten minutes to find the damn cat food WHILE I WAS IN THE FUCKING CAT FOOD AISLE! Staring at a 16lb. bag of Meow Mix, wondering where I could find food for Moo. (yes that’s his name. He’s a feline bovine).
How sad is it that I was thinking about cheese when I realized that I was standing in an aisle entirely dedicated to cats? (I really wish that I were exaggerating about this. I was literally staring at it wondering where the cat food was. It was horrible. If I hadn’t been so out-of-my-mind-and-body exhausted, I would have been embarrassed. Even though I was completely alone in the aisle the entire time.)
My brain “feels” like mush. I can’t actually poke around in there and feel my brain, as I’ve not acquired any recent open head wounds. Although, I’m pretty sure it literally feels like mush, so that’s probably a bad analogy.
Put it this way: when I try to concentrate on thinking, I literally get nothing. It’s just empty. That never happens to me. To be honest, it’s a little scary. There’s always something floating around in there. Even if it’s just a blue-faced flying monkey from The Wizard of Oz in a diaper shaking a rattle while sucking on a pacifier with a mustache attached to it.
Because that’s funny. Probably only to me, but still… The thoughts are there.
But right now… When I try… Nothing.
So I’m just going to continue to drink my wine and ramble, in the hopes that something remotely interesting (or at least slightly funny) comes out of my fingertips.
*pouring another glass of wine*
Don’t get your hopes up.
If I were functioning “properly” right now, I’d have at least five amazingly shitty illustrations to keep you entertained, but I’m way too tired to eff with it.
Sorry. I’m disappointed in me right now, too.
On the other hand, (at the start of my fourth glass of wine) I’m spelling better than I normally do. I’ve only had to correct one word that I normally misspell. *GO ME!* I didn’t even misspell misspell. I fucking rock right now!
I’ve seen SO many amazing things while working at the mall, and so many freakishly intriguing people that it really makes my heart smile and my pants wet.
Take that however you want to. Either way, you’re probably right.
Today, I saw a lady with a mole on her face that was about a quarter of an inch wide and at least 3 inches long. It was covered in a grey fuzz. I could not stop staring at it. It looked like she had waxed a strip of fur off of Gizmo (my chinchilla) and pasted it to her cheek in a horrible attempt to look like an NFL player before she went shopping. But then she realized that she forgot the other half of it, and was embarrassed, but the glue had already adhered to her cheek and she didn’t realize the it was the extra strength kind that lasts for at least three days, and I came home and caught her before she could get a strip for the other side, so now she’s just stuck looking like a nard.
Give me back my fur strip!
I wanted to touch it. I really wanted to ask her to pet it.
IT LOOKED SO SOFT!
Gizmo is soft, and her mole hair stuff looked like him.
I assumed that they are one and the same.
But I didn’t ask.
Instead, I asked her if I could help her find anything, and then proceeded to assist her without making a complete ass of myself like I normally would…
I was SO proud of me for acting like a grown-up!
Sometimes being an adult sucks.
I’ll have more of my “whimsical nonsense” to spread about the interwebs later this week (and hopefully the new picture for my page that I’ve been lying to myself about), but right now, I think I need my heating pad and some Ibuprofen.
And some more wine…
I hate football, but I’d watch your extreme version. The players should have bull horns (the animal kind) on their helmets. Or better yet, antlers! I’d love to see them duke it out with their antlers intertwined!
I love that idea! I could totally see that playing out. But they’d need rubber nubs on the end so nobody gets kabobbed. That would be a little too extreme…
That mole sounds puke worthy, I have no stomach for things like that.
I can’t wait for January myself, the holiday madness drives me nuts!
It was a pretty damn gross mole. It was like a fat grey caterpillar. A dead one though, because it wasn’t moving.
I hate the holiday attitudes too. It’s like mad cow disease for humans. Mad human disease?
People walk around mad because the stores and restaurants are crowded, projecting their anger towards innocent bystanders and people the work in the service industry. I get a little stabby towards those folks.
“They should start an extreme football league where the rules include, but are not limited to: wear protective gear; no throwing feces; no vomiting on other players; steroids are encouraged; all half-time shows must include midgets, monkeys, and cheerleaders driving monster trucks (or tanks); and buy one, get one free beers at all games.”
I think you just described the XFL here. The WWE guy already tried that 10 years ago and it failed after one season, hard as that is to believe. Well, OK, there may not have been any midgets in the XFL… maybe that’s why it didn’t work!!!
I remember something like that happening, but not taking off. Hence the cheerleaders driving tanks and monster trucks in my version.
Each city could do something different for their fans, too. Like, maybe throw a raffle for a spot in a free donkey show in San Francisco, a wind tunnel for flying kites in New Orleans, and a man to run around randomly biting people’s faces in Orlando. The possibilities are endless, really…
I have trouble not staring at things like that. Especially on the face. I KNOW it makes me a terrible person, but it just happens. I’m always wondering why they didn’t try to have it removed or something. Or if it’s a birth mark I’m always wondering if it’s the same thing my sis has. It’s casually called a port wine stain, but it’s actually a medical condition having to do with blood vessels and shit. I do make an effort to stop staring, so…points for that, maybe?
Hell yeah you get points for that! I gave myself points for it too. It was tough, but I did it. Days later, I’m STILL proud of myself for that.