Ramblings of a dangerous mind...hm
Today was my sister's birthday. She's 22.
I had to wrap her presents, and seeing as with incredibly unimportant things like wrapping presents, I'm incredibly meticulous and anal about it being perfect. BUT we ran out of wrapping paper when it came time to wrap the big box in which all of the little boxes went into. So I artfully covered the box in a layer of blue tissue paper. Then I thought it might be interesting to do sort of a weave of long strips of the spare pieces of paper I had left over. By the time I had finished with the top I realized it was perhaps the most hideous thing I had ever seen made out of paper...but alas, I was past the point of no return...or I needed to go take a shower. I actually found it quite amusing, and delighted in laughing maniacally at my destruction of a perfectly fine box.
MUAHHAHAHAHAAA
I also bought a shirt that says Woodstock 1969, Music Festival & Mud Wrestling. And I bought three new bras, which was really a very good thing, because my last one was driving me absolutely insane. RAR. For all of those out there who don't have to suffer the annoyance of a bad bra, I'll tell you...you're lucky.
LOL oh yeah, and I just remembered this hilarious story:
When I was about 2 and my sister was 7 we lived in this big house right next to a really huge, beautiful, old, catholic cemetary. This was Ohio, mind you, so when I say old, it's quite true. So we had a clothesline up outside in the backyard where there was a chainlink fence separating our backyard from the cemetary. Well, my sister was staring out the window one day, just spacing out, when a gold jeep came roaring up the cemetary road and halted nearly parallel from our backyard. A youngish asian man in a blue shirt and pocket protecter then proceeded to jump from his car, sprint to the fence and leap it, dash to our clothesline, grab my mother's nicest pair of sexy black underwear, sprint back to the fence, leap in his car, and speed away. Well my poor sister is quite perplexed, and calls to my mom, "Mom...some one stole our socks." My mother, not quite understanding, called back, "What are you talking about??" She continues, "A man came into the yard and took your socks." My mom, not having a single clue as to what my sister could possibly be talking about, went out to the backyard to investigate our clothesline. Now, one thing you must understand about my mother is that she may possibly be the most organized person on the face of the earth. She had her clothes impeccably arranged, and new exactly where everything should be. So she closely scrutinizes the sock section, and finding nothing missing, briefly skims the rest of the line. Her eyes move gradually to the underwear section, where a large gap was left by her stolen dainties. Then, accepting my sister's outrageous story, she begins to scan her memory for which pair of panties SHOULD be here, but is not. She then remembers her nice underwear, and as she tells it, is immediately quite pissed off, not to mention feeling rather violated. The pervy culprit was caught soon afterwards. Apparently he had victimized many women in this same way, and was in possession of over a hundred pairs of stolen underwear. They say he was a crossdresser. Needless to say, my mom didn't want those panties back...
I've always been highly amused by that story. I wish I'd seen it and not my sister, but I don't think I would've cared much if I had, seeing as I was only 2 years old.
People are weird aren't they?
ROSS! You rule :)
I had to wrap her presents, and seeing as with incredibly unimportant things like wrapping presents, I'm incredibly meticulous and anal about it being perfect. BUT we ran out of wrapping paper when it came time to wrap the big box in which all of the little boxes went into. So I artfully covered the box in a layer of blue tissue paper. Then I thought it might be interesting to do sort of a weave of long strips of the spare pieces of paper I had left over. By the time I had finished with the top I realized it was perhaps the most hideous thing I had ever seen made out of paper...but alas, I was past the point of no return...or I needed to go take a shower. I actually found it quite amusing, and delighted in laughing maniacally at my destruction of a perfectly fine box.
MUAHHAHAHAHAAA
I also bought a shirt that says Woodstock 1969, Music Festival & Mud Wrestling. And I bought three new bras, which was really a very good thing, because my last one was driving me absolutely insane. RAR. For all of those out there who don't have to suffer the annoyance of a bad bra, I'll tell you...you're lucky.
LOL oh yeah, and I just remembered this hilarious story:
When I was about 2 and my sister was 7 we lived in this big house right next to a really huge, beautiful, old, catholic cemetary. This was Ohio, mind you, so when I say old, it's quite true. So we had a clothesline up outside in the backyard where there was a chainlink fence separating our backyard from the cemetary. Well, my sister was staring out the window one day, just spacing out, when a gold jeep came roaring up the cemetary road and halted nearly parallel from our backyard. A youngish asian man in a blue shirt and pocket protecter then proceeded to jump from his car, sprint to the fence and leap it, dash to our clothesline, grab my mother's nicest pair of sexy black underwear, sprint back to the fence, leap in his car, and speed away. Well my poor sister is quite perplexed, and calls to my mom, "Mom...some one stole our socks." My mother, not quite understanding, called back, "What are you talking about??" She continues, "A man came into the yard and took your socks." My mom, not having a single clue as to what my sister could possibly be talking about, went out to the backyard to investigate our clothesline. Now, one thing you must understand about my mother is that she may possibly be the most organized person on the face of the earth. She had her clothes impeccably arranged, and new exactly where everything should be. So she closely scrutinizes the sock section, and finding nothing missing, briefly skims the rest of the line. Her eyes move gradually to the underwear section, where a large gap was left by her stolen dainties. Then, accepting my sister's outrageous story, she begins to scan her memory for which pair of panties SHOULD be here, but is not. She then remembers her nice underwear, and as she tells it, is immediately quite pissed off, not to mention feeling rather violated. The pervy culprit was caught soon afterwards. Apparently he had victimized many women in this same way, and was in possession of over a hundred pairs of stolen underwear. They say he was a crossdresser. Needless to say, my mom didn't want those panties back...
I've always been highly amused by that story. I wish I'd seen it and not my sister, but I don't think I would've cared much if I had, seeing as I was only 2 years old.
People are weird aren't they?
ROSS! You rule :)