obscurity is forever
It's hard to believe in a man that, when asked for advice, always says, 'Oh Lordie, I just know it's raining root beer tonight!'
My math class starts at ten on Wednesdays.
Of course, early classes usually mean early bedtimes, early springs mean short summers, and short skirts mean easy women. I don't need to tell you all this, half of you probably don't even want to hear it, (and the other half?) well, the other half is always the better half, mostly because we don't have any part of it, but really because I can't see anything all that great unless someone else shows me where to look. (breasts excluded)
I am taking German and have found it to be not a class, but an internal battle of wits, which I hope to win, thereby proving to my tongue that it can pronounce the rough 'r.'
Along with that I've found that everyday I work I worry about losing my job. No one ever has a bad thing to say about me, except the cook every once in awhile, but lets face it, working at a restaurant is high stress, people lose their temper. Everytime a customer sits down, you have to prove to them that this is a good place to eat, and even if they get their food on time and there's no glass, or staples, or highly venemous moutain rattle snakes in it, you always have to worry about the next time they come in, cause brother, (and sister) if they even catch the hint of a rattlesnake having been in their chicken waldorf salad, you are not getting that person to come back. Still, I keep thinking they're going to fire me (or at least demote me) and it freaks me out. I end up doing a shitter job than I normally would. 'Calm down Brad. This would be a good time to listen to some Dave (id Lee Roth. I know it seems stupid, but 'California Girls' is very soothing to me. Don't judge)'
And to Erik and Mariah: I am still sorry about the dinner salads. Thanks for coming in though.
My math class starts at ten on Wednesdays.
Of course, early classes usually mean early bedtimes, early springs mean short summers, and short skirts mean easy women. I don't need to tell you all this, half of you probably don't even want to hear it, (and the other half?) well, the other half is always the better half, mostly because we don't have any part of it, but really because I can't see anything all that great unless someone else shows me where to look. (breasts excluded)
I am taking German and have found it to be not a class, but an internal battle of wits, which I hope to win, thereby proving to my tongue that it can pronounce the rough 'r.'
Along with that I've found that everyday I work I worry about losing my job. No one ever has a bad thing to say about me, except the cook every once in awhile, but lets face it, working at a restaurant is high stress, people lose their temper. Everytime a customer sits down, you have to prove to them that this is a good place to eat, and even if they get their food on time and there's no glass, or staples, or highly venemous moutain rattle snakes in it, you always have to worry about the next time they come in, cause brother, (and sister) if they even catch the hint of a rattlesnake having been in their chicken waldorf salad, you are not getting that person to come back. Still, I keep thinking they're going to fire me (or at least demote me) and it freaks me out. I end up doing a shitter job than I normally would. 'Calm down Brad. This would be a good time to listen to some Dave (id Lee Roth. I know it seems stupid, but 'California Girls' is very soothing to me. Don't judge)'
And to Erik and Mariah: I am still sorry about the dinner salads. Thanks for coming in though.