the jean's ho once more.
i sang karaoke tonight.
it was a long day at work. not too bad, but it was still lame. i worked from 1 - 6, and then a staff meeting from 7 - 9. let's do a quick flashback
*insert flashback soundtrack here*
a shitload of people keep coming in today, and i was glad cuz it gives me something to do. i love people who mess things up, but not when they do it right in front me. especially when u ask them if they need help, and say no, and then rifle through ur preciously folded denim walls. fuckers.and of course i was put on denim walls today, my favourite section. i'm the jeans ho once more. anyways, so i wait around three hours and a half, waiting for michelle chungface to come visit me at work like she said she would. but eventually i'm like fuck this, i'm tired. and i wanted to go buy the garden state soundtrack (SO good!). so as i leave there she is, mischa poon in all her glory. i say hi, shme shme, we hug, it was nice, i miss my little chinese calculus fuckface. bless her heart. so i go on, without my wallet. i run all the way to my car to get it, have a chain, then run all the way to the other side of the mall to music world. "sorry, sold out, come back tuesday". fantastic. go to fresh squeeze for some juice. "sorry, cash only". awesome. i sprint back, even more tired than before my break. ugh. i go home at 6, after checking at wal-mart to see if they have it. wtf was i thinking, of course not. got home at 6:30. damn mall traffic. leave at 6:50 to get there by 7. where we sat there, re-doing my whole training basically to introduce the new standards for bluenotes. lame. then we ordered pizza. not so lame. i got no dipping sauce. lame.
*insert return to normal time soundtrack here*
then i rendezvoused back home, then met up with tom and dorothy and the sundance for some karaoke and more chaining. tis a good night. tired, but good. creepy old drunk people kept talking to us. *shudders*
i can't help but keep thinking about garden state. this movie made perfect sense to me, and just helped me think about how all my problems are exactly like everybody else's. and that there's not ever a "normal person", cuz everybody's fucked up in one way or another. and nobody's "happy". but u can be if u fight through the infinite abyss we call life. so good. i guess a normal person is just like everybody else - fucked up in every way possible. we're all normal people. let's face it.
and now, for another viewing into wasaga summer 2003! time to shake it like a polaroid. well... it ain't a polaroid, and u cunt shake it cuz it's online.... yeah whateva. eat it. eat the shit that's been shat on ur chest.
we got the fire going after about an hour of prodding charcoal.
the ceremonial hands in air. like u just don't care.
the sign reads: "bj's mini golf". nuff said.
we buried brittney in the sand, and gave her giganto boobs, and PENIS.
we couldn't resist. just SO good.
more nipples. what can i say. adamo tries to milk himself. awesome.
what do you do when ur drunk and have a bottle of suntan lotion?
oh yeah! duh! pretend ur jizzing while everybody watches! yeah!
the guys of wasaga. well, prepubsecent more like.
notice the height differences.
i still love this photo.
screw you guys, i'm going home.
it was a long day at work. not too bad, but it was still lame. i worked from 1 - 6, and then a staff meeting from 7 - 9. let's do a quick flashback
*insert flashback soundtrack here*
a shitload of people keep coming in today, and i was glad cuz it gives me something to do. i love people who mess things up, but not when they do it right in front me. especially when u ask them if they need help, and say no, and then rifle through ur preciously folded denim walls. fuckers.and of course i was put on denim walls today, my favourite section. i'm the jeans ho once more. anyways, so i wait around three hours and a half, waiting for michelle chungface to come visit me at work like she said she would. but eventually i'm like fuck this, i'm tired. and i wanted to go buy the garden state soundtrack (SO good!). so as i leave there she is, mischa poon in all her glory. i say hi, shme shme, we hug, it was nice, i miss my little chinese calculus fuckface. bless her heart. so i go on, without my wallet. i run all the way to my car to get it, have a chain, then run all the way to the other side of the mall to music world. "sorry, sold out, come back tuesday". fantastic. go to fresh squeeze for some juice. "sorry, cash only". awesome. i sprint back, even more tired than before my break. ugh. i go home at 6, after checking at wal-mart to see if they have it. wtf was i thinking, of course not. got home at 6:30. damn mall traffic. leave at 6:50 to get there by 7. where we sat there, re-doing my whole training basically to introduce the new standards for bluenotes. lame. then we ordered pizza. not so lame. i got no dipping sauce. lame.
*insert return to normal time soundtrack here*
then i rendezvoused back home, then met up with tom and dorothy and the sundance for some karaoke and more chaining. tis a good night. tired, but good. creepy old drunk people kept talking to us. *shudders*
i can't help but keep thinking about garden state. this movie made perfect sense to me, and just helped me think about how all my problems are exactly like everybody else's. and that there's not ever a "normal person", cuz everybody's fucked up in one way or another. and nobody's "happy". but u can be if u fight through the infinite abyss we call life. so good. i guess a normal person is just like everybody else - fucked up in every way possible. we're all normal people. let's face it.
and now, for another viewing into wasaga summer 2003! time to shake it like a polaroid. well... it ain't a polaroid, and u cunt shake it cuz it's online.... yeah whateva. eat it. eat the shit that's been shat on ur chest.
we got the fire going after about an hour of prodding charcoal.
the ceremonial hands in air. like u just don't care.
the sign reads: "bj's mini golf". nuff said.
we buried brittney in the sand, and gave her giganto boobs, and PENIS.
we couldn't resist. just SO good.
more nipples. what can i say. adamo tries to milk himself. awesome.
what do you do when ur drunk and have a bottle of suntan lotion?
oh yeah! duh! pretend ur jizzing while everybody watches! yeah!
the guys of wasaga. well, prepubsecent more like.
notice the height differences.
i still love this photo.
screw you guys, i'm going home.