Wednesday, March 08, 2006
PRoOF THAT G_D IS F---ING WITH ME, PLUS TWO FOR FLINCHIN'
I have to write G_d (fill-in-the-blank) because I'm Jewish, or something, but for crissake (Jewish people also love to say, "Jesus Christ!" a lot, is this irony?), what else would it BE? Ged? Gad? Gud...? Is "gud" even a word? No.
Well.
Why in the hell does G_d have time to do sh*t like this...? Is G_d knocking off on the job, like so many others we know (aherm)? Maybe.
1) This morning, I was trying to apply brown - not black - mascara after reading an article about Bette Davis. Apparently, she thought brown made us fair gals' eyes stand out more (and she said black made us look like trollops). Ha, ha. Good ol' dead Bette.
Anyway, no sooner than I had started to apply said mascara while looking in the bathroom mirror - very clumsily, I might add, considering I usually do it on the bus - than "Bette Davis Eyes"* came on the friggin' radio. Ha, ha. What are the odds?
2) Then, after removing disastrous mascara poo, I hauled my morning-after looking rump to the bus stop, but just as I crested the hill, noticed I was missing not one, not two, but THREE of my buses, one after the other, the red (express), orange (not-so-express), and white (even more not-so-express) lines. FUCK. I mean, ha, ha.
3) This post refuses to publish, and my blog has mysteriously disappeared, although Blogger isn't down. SpoOky.
I think G_d is now dangling dead grandpas, better jobs, cute boys, transportation, and the like right in front of my nose, dingle-dangle, like a cat toy, and when I finally get it together to take a swat at 'em, He goes, YOIK!
Ha, ha. Very funny, Your Holiness, um, Sir.
You're an absolute stitch.
You may have made The Grand Canyon and the platypus, and for that You've earned my eternal respect. However, You are also responsible for dog sh*t and Paris Hilton.**
Anyone else having these uncanny Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret*** moments, or am I just twelve all over again...?
*Misheard lyrics: All the boys, think she's a spazz, she's got...Bette Davis thighs.
**Who are You kidding. They are clearly one and the same.
***I must, I must, I must increase my bust.
Also in the Ha, Ha Dpt.: I finally hauled off and hugged this ridiculously deserving sweet/funny/adorable freak of a man-person, and he totally flinched. That can't be a good thing. Discuss.
PRoOF THAT G_D IS F---ING WITH ME, PLUS TWO FOR FLINCHIN'Well.
Why in the hell does G_d have time to do sh*t like this...? Is G_d knocking off on the job, like so many others we know (aherm)? Maybe.
1) This morning, I was trying to apply brown - not black - mascara after reading an article about Bette Davis. Apparently, she thought brown made us fair gals' eyes stand out more (and she said black made us look like trollops). Ha, ha. Good ol' dead Bette.
Anyway, no sooner than I had started to apply said mascara while looking in the bathroom mirror - very clumsily, I might add, considering I usually do it on the bus - than "Bette Davis Eyes"* came on the friggin' radio. Ha, ha. What are the odds?
2) Then, after removing disastrous mascara poo, I hauled my morning-after looking rump to the bus stop, but just as I crested the hill, noticed I was missing not one, not two, but THREE of my buses, one after the other, the red (express), orange (not-so-express), and white (even more not-so-express) lines. FUCK. I mean, ha, ha.
3) This post refuses to publish, and my blog has mysteriously disappeared, although Blogger isn't down. SpoOky.
I think G_d is now dangling dead grandpas, better jobs, cute boys, transportation, and the like right in front of my nose, dingle-dangle, like a cat toy, and when I finally get it together to take a swat at 'em, He goes, YOIK!
Ha, ha. Very funny, Your Holiness, um, Sir.
You're an absolute stitch.
You may have made The Grand Canyon and the platypus, and for that You've earned my eternal respect. However, You are also responsible for dog sh*t and Paris Hilton.**
Anyone else having these uncanny Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret*** moments, or am I just twelve all over again...?
*Misheard lyrics: All the boys, think she's a spazz, she's got...Bette Davis thighs.
**Who are You kidding. They are clearly one and the same.
***I must, I must, I must increase my bust.
Also in the Ha, Ha Dpt.: I finally hauled off and hugged this ridiculously deserving sweet/funny/adorable freak of a man-person, and he totally flinched. That can't be a good thing. Discuss.
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