Do I Look Like Your Momma...in this dress?!?
No one seems to appreciate anything these days. You know those people who are always needing something. Money. Food. A ride. Your broom. A cup of Splenda (Sugar is so 2001). You know who I am talking about. Compulsive borrowers. No that is an inaccurate description. I'll go with compulsive 'could-you-do-me-a-huge-favor'ers. You all know that you are thinking of one right now.
So you have maybe been awake for an hour or two. I don't know, you might like to do yoga or pilates or synchronized swimming in the morning, so maybe you have been up for five hours at this point. Maybe four. I guess it depends on what you had to do that morning. At any rate, you have not been awake long. You are sitting there on your favorite beanbag chair in your "Hugs Not Drugs" tshirt, smoking cigarettes and eating a kelp and tofu on rye while listening to John Denver or John Mayer or John Tesh, any John will do really, and thinking about how staggeringly remarkable everything is today. Today is one of those June is bustin' out all over sort of days, and no matter what happens, nothing can ruin your day.
Then the phone starts ringing. They start phoning you around noon or maybe six in the morning. "Hey. What are you doing?" Before you can even answer they immediately go into, "That's great. Look, could you do a HUGE favor for me? Good. My blah blah blah did blah blah blah. And you know how blah blah is when blah goes to blah, so I had to blah blah for the blah before the blah blah blah blah. Could I borrow a hundred dollars until I get paid again? Thanks! You're a doll. Bye." *click*
You immediately start plotting their death and say to hell with June and where it is bustin'. You want to bust something allright. I'll show you bustin', Buster Buddy Brown. That stupid son of a mumble grumble. I'll bet he/she/it doesn't even need the mumble mumble. That mumble mumble grumble own money mumble mumble not his momma grumble mumble tired of this mumble mad as hell grumble grumble.
So then, you take him or her or it or whatever the money, vowing yet again that it'll never happen again. That you will never again do anything for that useless, vampirical demon from the fifth circle of hell. And that this time when you say it, unlike the last twelve times that you swore this very oath of foot downery, you really mean it!!
I just wanted to thank everyone and anyone who has ever helped me out with money, a ride, Splenda, whatever.
Later Consuela.
No one seems to appreciate anything these days. You know those people who are always needing something. Money. Food. A ride. Your broom. A cup of Splenda (Sugar is so 2001). You know who I am talking about. Compulsive borrowers. No that is an inaccurate description. I'll go with compulsive 'could-you-do-me-a-huge-favor'ers. You all know that you are thinking of one right now.
So you have maybe been awake for an hour or two. I don't know, you might like to do yoga or pilates or synchronized swimming in the morning, so maybe you have been up for five hours at this point. Maybe four. I guess it depends on what you had to do that morning. At any rate, you have not been awake long. You are sitting there on your favorite beanbag chair in your "Hugs Not Drugs" tshirt, smoking cigarettes and eating a kelp and tofu on rye while listening to John Denver or John Mayer or John Tesh, any John will do really, and thinking about how staggeringly remarkable everything is today. Today is one of those June is bustin' out all over sort of days, and no matter what happens, nothing can ruin your day.
Then the phone starts ringing. They start phoning you around noon or maybe six in the morning. "Hey. What are you doing?" Before you can even answer they immediately go into, "That's great. Look, could you do a HUGE favor for me? Good. My blah blah blah did blah blah blah. And you know how blah blah is when blah goes to blah, so I had to blah blah for the blah before the blah blah blah blah. Could I borrow a hundred dollars until I get paid again? Thanks! You're a doll. Bye." *click*
You immediately start plotting their death and say to hell with June and where it is bustin'. You want to bust something allright. I'll show you bustin', Buster Buddy Brown. That stupid son of a mumble grumble. I'll bet he/she/it doesn't even need the mumble mumble. That mumble mumble grumble own money mumble mumble not his momma grumble mumble tired of this mumble mad as hell grumble grumble.
So then, you take him or her or it or whatever the money, vowing yet again that it'll never happen again. That you will never again do anything for that useless, vampirical demon from the fifth circle of hell. And that this time when you say it, unlike the last twelve times that you swore this very oath of foot downery, you really mean it!!
I just wanted to thank everyone and anyone who has ever helped me out with money, a ride, Splenda, whatever.
Later Consuela.
posted by Preston at 3:39 AM
<< Home