True or False?
Wayne Newton is among the top three ugliest men in America.
(Occupying the other two slots: Chuck Norris and Phil Spector. Order is not important, but I daresay that Chuck Norris at the very least looks like an anatomically modern human. As for Phil Spector, his appearence is so terrifying, I don't see how he could be thought innocent of any act at all, up to and including terrorism on a grand scale, piracy, cannibalism, or a combination of the three. With or without physical evidence. In fact, I would suggest that he is guilty of any and all unsolved crimes in the entire state of California stretching back at least to 1950.)
I have my first job tomorrow. That is, if I can manage to wake up on time. This is my first grown-up job. And, if not requiring my degree specifically, it at least requires some sort of degree in something. How I expect to keep a passel of hormonal and presumaby rowdy teenagers from hanging out the windows/killing one another/lighting the building on fire, I don't pretend to know. I guess I'll have to rely on some sort of moral intimidation? I've been told on a couple of occasions that I can be intimidating. I'm pretty sure these were instances of a lack of social graces being misinterpreted as intimidation. But I'll take whatever works. I wish I knew in advance what grade this is, there obviously being quite a difference between snivelly, prepubescent 14 year olds and hulking 18 year old boys. I was hoping I could work up to it...you know, start off with some nice 3rd graders. Old enough not to pee all over themselves and me, but young enough that they haven't become total douchebags yet. But no, thrown into the deep end. I'm open to suggestions on how to make myself look older. As it is, I might get escorted to the office for being in the hall without a pass. It would be ironic and actually pretty funny if I were to get detention or something, being that I never once had detention when I was in high school. And I'm debating whether I should take my nose piercing-thingie out for the day. On one hand, I'm pretty sure I'm the only person in the state of Indiana with their nose pierced. On the other, I'm pretty sure I'm the only person in the state of Indiana with their nose pierced. Nice in many ways, but it might be a little too OoohCrazyCalifornian and they might not ask me back. I might be a bad influence on the Youth of Tomorrow or some such nonsense. Okay, I'll say it. I don't want to DO this, but this is the best job from a convenience standpoint. I can pretty much make my own schedule. Never have to work weekends or nights, or holidays. I get to be my mean old self, rather than do a bad job pretending to be nice.
Why is it that no matter how hard I try, no matter what I do, I always, one hundred percent of the time end up doing exactly what my mother wants me to do? Does anyone else have this problem? She is like a cross between a steam roller and a tornado. I'm always like one of those unfortunate cows.
And now I've got to go to bed so that I can get a jump on lying there staring at the ceiling all night. Oh please, please let me wake up on time. If anyone is still up around, say 2:30am California time, call me, will you?
(Occupying the other two slots: Chuck Norris and Phil Spector. Order is not important, but I daresay that Chuck Norris at the very least looks like an anatomically modern human. As for Phil Spector, his appearence is so terrifying, I don't see how he could be thought innocent of any act at all, up to and including terrorism on a grand scale, piracy, cannibalism, or a combination of the three. With or without physical evidence. In fact, I would suggest that he is guilty of any and all unsolved crimes in the entire state of California stretching back at least to 1950.)
I have my first job tomorrow. That is, if I can manage to wake up on time. This is my first grown-up job. And, if not requiring my degree specifically, it at least requires some sort of degree in something. How I expect to keep a passel of hormonal and presumaby rowdy teenagers from hanging out the windows/killing one another/lighting the building on fire, I don't pretend to know. I guess I'll have to rely on some sort of moral intimidation? I've been told on a couple of occasions that I can be intimidating. I'm pretty sure these were instances of a lack of social graces being misinterpreted as intimidation. But I'll take whatever works. I wish I knew in advance what grade this is, there obviously being quite a difference between snivelly, prepubescent 14 year olds and hulking 18 year old boys. I was hoping I could work up to it...you know, start off with some nice 3rd graders. Old enough not to pee all over themselves and me, but young enough that they haven't become total douchebags yet. But no, thrown into the deep end. I'm open to suggestions on how to make myself look older. As it is, I might get escorted to the office for being in the hall without a pass. It would be ironic and actually pretty funny if I were to get detention or something, being that I never once had detention when I was in high school. And I'm debating whether I should take my nose piercing-thingie out for the day. On one hand, I'm pretty sure I'm the only person in the state of Indiana with their nose pierced. On the other, I'm pretty sure I'm the only person in the state of Indiana with their nose pierced. Nice in many ways, but it might be a little too OoohCrazyCalifornian and they might not ask me back. I might be a bad influence on the Youth of Tomorrow or some such nonsense. Okay, I'll say it. I don't want to DO this, but this is the best job from a convenience standpoint. I can pretty much make my own schedule. Never have to work weekends or nights, or holidays. I get to be my mean old self, rather than do a bad job pretending to be nice.
Why is it that no matter how hard I try, no matter what I do, I always, one hundred percent of the time end up doing exactly what my mother wants me to do? Does anyone else have this problem? She is like a cross between a steam roller and a tornado. I'm always like one of those unfortunate cows.
And now I've got to go to bed so that I can get a jump on lying there staring at the ceiling all night. Oh please, please let me wake up on time. If anyone is still up around, say 2:30am California time, call me, will you?