My name is golden.
My name is golden. Give me twenty dollars. No, seriously that's the price you get for the privledge of letting my golden name slip off your tongue. I'm not joking here. Say my name and then put a check in the mail. Interesting thing happened to me this morning. I went out to breakfast with my Uncle Bob and we were talking about what a terror I was as a child. He told me horror stories and I laughed and then commented,
"Yeah, but my name is golden now."
When we departed after breakfast he gave handed me a twenty saying,
"Thanks for letting me use your golden name."
And it got me thinking...hey I can buy that tee-shirt I wanted...and also...hey alot of people use my name...no one's ever paid before...So yeah seriously, if you've been using my name it's time to pass the hat. Pay up. I need this cash. My name is golden and at this rate my jewelery will be too.
So I guess we might as well fess up to it right? I mean I know that Zoe sometimes reads this thing, and Angela sometimes reads this thing...and well Texas people sometimes read this thing...whatever that's irrelevant. We admit it! Angela and I totally bailed on Mike's birthday party! It's out in the open! (We all knew that already anyway this is just a proper confession). Well lemme explain this little story to anyone who maybe didn't know.
First and foremost it was all my idea. I'll take the blame whole heartedly. I called Angela and asked her if she wanted to skip. I pressured her into it. My fault. And please you can feel absolutely free to hold this against me if you want to. Seriously. This is the perfect sort of thing for a grudge. It was a really really rotten thing for me to do when I said I would be there, and then lying about my whereabouts, also the fact that throughout this whole confession I've shown no remorse at all. I don't really feel bad about this. Another reason why you can hold it against me. Angela does feel bad about it. So, you can't hold it against her.
So yeah. Angela and me blew off Mike's party and instead went to the mall. Now on our little journey to the mall because karma has fun kicking my ass who do we pass on the road but Zoe. Dear sweet Zoe whom we had called mere hours before to inform that we wouldn't be able to make it to Mike's party for various family reasons. Yeah, we're terrible people. Oh but you can't make me feel bad about this. We went to the mall and we had fun. It was better than going to Mike's for his party for which I embarassingly couldn't afford a present for him. Or the usual awkwardness I can't help but feel around him and Alex (hey this is honesty, you can't hold this against me, just my actions). We went to the mall and we had a fun time. I cajoled Angela into running through the food court screaming "GIRAFFES! GIRAFFES!". We had fun. I ate "Chiken in a Bizkit" crackers in Target's parking lot. It was the usual unusual. So, no I don't really feel badly about skipping out on Mike but I do feel bad for lying to Zoe. So there. Maybe Zoe will forgive me for this or maybe she'll stab me in the neck with a spork. I can't say for certain. Only time will tell (hopefully it will be the former and not the latter).
So today Angela and I went back out to the mall to putz around. I was keen on spending the twenty dollars I had made with my golden name and ended up buying a "Snakes on A Plane!" tee-shirt. It's fantastic! It has SLJ on it looking tough and it says "There are muthafuckin' snakes on this muthafuckin' plane". Of course the two "fuckin'"s are covered (for the most part) by SLJ but it's a throughly rocking shirt. You simply have to love SOAP for the fact that it's been a pop culuture monster months before it's release into theaters. Is it bad that I'm more excited for this flick than I am for my eighteenth birthday? I can't help it. It's Samuel L. Jackson...and snakes...on a plane...if that's not the best plot ever please punch me in the face.
I was filling out my application for housing the other day. There were the typical lines for describing oneself and then the lines for describing what roomates you think you would get along with. Oh, I had fun. At the bottom of my application I wrote in big bold capital letters,
"NO CUBS FANS OR JESUS JUNKIES PLEASE"
Here's to hoping right? Ma and I are going to IKEA (I'm honing my IKEA nesting instinct...I need Swedish Furni...perhaps a strynne green stripe pattern...) I saw some flatware in a catalogue that I would like to be a part of my life. My Ma is talking about sets of dishes...and what not. Me? I can not concieve why I would possibly need more than one of everything. One plate, one cup, one fork...well you get the idea. I mean let's look at this. I don't eat breakfast unless I go to a restaurant and last I checked restaurants don't require you to bring your own plates (BYOP). Then I won't be going back to my apartment for lunch, I'll just grab fast food or back a brown baggie lunch. So I only need one table setting. I mean Rock help me (or rather them) if I ever catch my roomates using my plate, or worse eating my food. The sheer thought of some other chick eating my crackers gets my ten kinds of pissed off and this hasn't even happened yet. Oh. Your. God. How am I going to live like this!?
DELIVER ME FROM SWEDISH FURNITURE!...Sorry was that too Tyler Durden for you? I apologize.
While we're on the subject of the city I was giving some serious consideration to the sort of protection I'll need whilst in the city (and I'm not talking condoms). I'm just a little girl here and I'm not very observent and not very fast. Goodness forbid if I ever was attacked I would have no way to defend myself. As in gym I always chose yoga instead of touch sports. I wondered if maybe, just maybe I should invest in a can of mace. I inquiried to my Ma about this and she advised me strongly against mace. She said I'd only end up hurting myself. She offered to by me a rape whistle. I inquiried Angela about the mace and she advised me strongly against it saying that I'd only end up hurting myself. She offered to teach me some self-defense moves. I inquired to Glenn about the mace and he advised me strongly against it saying that I'd only end up hurting myself. He offered to buy me a for horn saying it'd attract attention to me. I inquired...wait do you see the pattern here? I'd hurt myself using mace? It can't possibly be that hard to use right? Right? At any rate look out tough guys in the city looking to do me harm! I'll be the itsy bitsy brunette with the rape whistle around her neck, holding the fog horn, whilst doing katas. Yeah look out!
Glenn and I invented a baseball team for which we intend to base a cartoon off of. Our team you ask? The Isla Sorna Dinosaurs. If you get this joke you get my undying respect.
Yeah so there's more but there's not at the same time. I'll let you all off easy this time. Watch a baseball game this week if you get the chance. Even if your team isn't in first place they still need support (I love you Good Guys!)
Find my power animal,
MFB
P.S. FUCK YOU DEREK JEETER!
"Yeah, but my name is golden now."
When we departed after breakfast he gave handed me a twenty saying,
"Thanks for letting me use your golden name."
And it got me thinking...hey I can buy that tee-shirt I wanted...and also...hey alot of people use my name...no one's ever paid before...So yeah seriously, if you've been using my name it's time to pass the hat. Pay up. I need this cash. My name is golden and at this rate my jewelery will be too.
So I guess we might as well fess up to it right? I mean I know that Zoe sometimes reads this thing, and Angela sometimes reads this thing...and well Texas people sometimes read this thing...whatever that's irrelevant. We admit it! Angela and I totally bailed on Mike's birthday party! It's out in the open! (We all knew that already anyway this is just a proper confession). Well lemme explain this little story to anyone who maybe didn't know.
First and foremost it was all my idea. I'll take the blame whole heartedly. I called Angela and asked her if she wanted to skip. I pressured her into it. My fault. And please you can feel absolutely free to hold this against me if you want to. Seriously. This is the perfect sort of thing for a grudge. It was a really really rotten thing for me to do when I said I would be there, and then lying about my whereabouts, also the fact that throughout this whole confession I've shown no remorse at all. I don't really feel bad about this. Another reason why you can hold it against me. Angela does feel bad about it. So, you can't hold it against her.
So yeah. Angela and me blew off Mike's party and instead went to the mall. Now on our little journey to the mall because karma has fun kicking my ass who do we pass on the road but Zoe. Dear sweet Zoe whom we had called mere hours before to inform that we wouldn't be able to make it to Mike's party for various family reasons. Yeah, we're terrible people. Oh but you can't make me feel bad about this. We went to the mall and we had fun. It was better than going to Mike's for his party for which I embarassingly couldn't afford a present for him. Or the usual awkwardness I can't help but feel around him and Alex (hey this is honesty, you can't hold this against me, just my actions). We went to the mall and we had a fun time. I cajoled Angela into running through the food court screaming "GIRAFFES! GIRAFFES!". We had fun. I ate "Chiken in a Bizkit" crackers in Target's parking lot. It was the usual unusual. So, no I don't really feel badly about skipping out on Mike but I do feel bad for lying to Zoe. So there. Maybe Zoe will forgive me for this or maybe she'll stab me in the neck with a spork. I can't say for certain. Only time will tell (hopefully it will be the former and not the latter).
So today Angela and I went back out to the mall to putz around. I was keen on spending the twenty dollars I had made with my golden name and ended up buying a "Snakes on A Plane!" tee-shirt. It's fantastic! It has SLJ on it looking tough and it says "There are muthafuckin' snakes on this muthafuckin' plane". Of course the two "fuckin'"s are covered (for the most part) by SLJ but it's a throughly rocking shirt. You simply have to love SOAP for the fact that it's been a pop culuture monster months before it's release into theaters. Is it bad that I'm more excited for this flick than I am for my eighteenth birthday? I can't help it. It's Samuel L. Jackson...and snakes...on a plane...if that's not the best plot ever please punch me in the face.
I was filling out my application for housing the other day. There were the typical lines for describing oneself and then the lines for describing what roomates you think you would get along with. Oh, I had fun. At the bottom of my application I wrote in big bold capital letters,
"NO CUBS FANS OR JESUS JUNKIES PLEASE"
Here's to hoping right? Ma and I are going to IKEA (I'm honing my IKEA nesting instinct...I need Swedish Furni...perhaps a strynne green stripe pattern...) I saw some flatware in a catalogue that I would like to be a part of my life. My Ma is talking about sets of dishes...and what not. Me? I can not concieve why I would possibly need more than one of everything. One plate, one cup, one fork...well you get the idea. I mean let's look at this. I don't eat breakfast unless I go to a restaurant and last I checked restaurants don't require you to bring your own plates (BYOP). Then I won't be going back to my apartment for lunch, I'll just grab fast food or back a brown baggie lunch. So I only need one table setting. I mean Rock help me (or rather them) if I ever catch my roomates using my plate, or worse eating my food. The sheer thought of some other chick eating my crackers gets my ten kinds of pissed off and this hasn't even happened yet. Oh. Your. God. How am I going to live like this!?
DELIVER ME FROM SWEDISH FURNITURE!...Sorry was that too Tyler Durden for you? I apologize.
While we're on the subject of the city I was giving some serious consideration to the sort of protection I'll need whilst in the city (and I'm not talking condoms). I'm just a little girl here and I'm not very observent and not very fast. Goodness forbid if I ever was attacked I would have no way to defend myself. As in gym I always chose yoga instead of touch sports. I wondered if maybe, just maybe I should invest in a can of mace. I inquiried to my Ma about this and she advised me strongly against mace. She said I'd only end up hurting myself. She offered to by me a rape whistle. I inquiried Angela about the mace and she advised me strongly against it saying that I'd only end up hurting myself. She offered to teach me some self-defense moves. I inquired to Glenn about the mace and he advised me strongly against it saying that I'd only end up hurting myself. He offered to buy me a for horn saying it'd attract attention to me. I inquired...wait do you see the pattern here? I'd hurt myself using mace? It can't possibly be that hard to use right? Right? At any rate look out tough guys in the city looking to do me harm! I'll be the itsy bitsy brunette with the rape whistle around her neck, holding the fog horn, whilst doing katas. Yeah look out!
Glenn and I invented a baseball team for which we intend to base a cartoon off of. Our team you ask? The Isla Sorna Dinosaurs. If you get this joke you get my undying respect.
Yeah so there's more but there's not at the same time. I'll let you all off easy this time. Watch a baseball game this week if you get the chance. Even if your team isn't in first place they still need support (I love you Good Guys!)
Find my power animal,
MFB
P.S. FUCK YOU DEREK JEETER!