August 2010
9 posts
I’m always okay with living in Salisbury during the year until I realize that no one wants to watch How I Met You Mother with me, and my brother can’t just come in my room so we can trade stories. Then I get a little sad.
I would like to rant about my view on people who are all opposed to the building of a mosque near ground zero. First of all, really people? REALLY? To blame an entire religion for the actions of a small group of extremists is so fucking ridiculous. Remember Timothy McVeigh? He was Christian. It’s not like when the Oklahoma City bombing happened everyone was like “there are no churches allowed within a five mile radius of the site!” It is absolutely ridiculous. They’re not doing it to be disrespectful, they are simply practicing their right to freedom of religion. And on that note, how exactly is it disrespectful? Again, I repeat, the attacks on 9/11 were the acts of a small group of extremists. They were a horrible, terrible tragedy but to deny Muslims the right to build a mosque in an available area is dangerously ignorant.
My job is so fucking unbelievable. I’ll try to sum it up by first telling you about the folks I work with:
First, there is this supermodel wanna-be chick. Yeah, okay, she is pretty hot, but damn is she completely useless.
The girl is constantly fixing her hair or putting on make-up.
She is extremely self-centred and has never once considered the needs or wants of anyone but herself.
She is as dumb as a box of rocks, and I still find it surprising that she has enough brain power to continue to breathe.
The next chick is completely the opposite. She might even be one of the smartest people on the planet.
Her career opportunities are endless, and yet she is here with us. She is a zero on a scale of 1 to 10.
I’m not sure she even showers, much less shaves her “womanly” parts.
I think she might be a lesbian, because every time we drive by the hardware store she moans like a cat in heat.
But the jewel of the crowd has got to be the fucking stoner. And this guy is more than just your average pothead.
In fact, he is baked before he comes to work, during work, and I’m sure after work.
He probably hasn’t been sober any time in the last ten years, and he’s only 22.
He dresses like a beatnik throwback from the 1960’s, and to make things worse, he brings his big fucking dog to work.
Every fucking day I have to look at this huge Great Dane walk around half-stoned from the second-hand smoke.
Hell, sometimes I even think it’s trying to talk with its constant bellowing.
Also, both of them are constantly hungry, requiring multiple stops to McDonald’s and Burger King, every single fucking day.
Anyway, I drive these fucktards around in my van and we solve mysteries and shit.
Just a thought, but in the past few weeks I have been constantly amazed that there are people out there that genuinely want to spend time with me. Not that I think I’m necessarily horrible to be around, but I don’t know. I’m just so surprised that such awesome people want to be around me so much.
Two Names You Go By
1. Lacey
2. Elizabeth (at school…)
Two Parts of Your Heritage
1. Irish
2. English
Two things that scare you
1. Losing people I don’t think I could live without
2. Tornadoes
Dear Crush,
Um, I don’t have one of these. Unless it’s okay to be in love with a fictional character. In wish case, Nick Andopolis, I am in love with you and we should be married.
Love,
Lacey