Friday, November 26, 2004
Well, my first Duck Tape (the brand of duct tape I used, in case you think I am an idiot) purse was horrible. The only way it will ever leave my house is in a garbage bag. Although, I have not given up on it yet. The second one was a success. When ever you see me, well, maybe you will get to see it too. It is definitely a masterpiece as far as I am concerned. It would have gone a lot better if Lucy had not tried to help me out by depositing kitty hair on it and walking on the tape causing it to stick to itself where I did not want it to. Making stuck duck tape come unstuck is really really hard.
I even got one compliment on it today when I went out shopping this afternoon. I decided to pass on the early morning shopping extravaganza but shopping on this day is just in my blood, so I finally gave in and went out.
At the Streets at SouthPoint (you just have to say the whole name. It makes my whole shopping experience sound more sophisticated) I saw Santa Clause and Mrs. Clause. They were cute (in a Santa way) but the kids on their laps were not. I hope that they get paid well to sit there and smile while a kid is crying and being hysterical on their laps while the photographer was constantly ringing a bell trying to get the kids to at least look at the camera, even if they were going to continue to yell. And I don't know if you have ever been there, but they have these statues of kids all over the place and they are rather creepy. I thought one of them was a real person (a real creepy person) but it turned out to be one a statue, but it did scare me thinking it was a real creepy person (and that so totally did not make any sense, but there you have it anyway).
And last night, there was nothing on TV. Well, almost nothing. There was this infomercial that I was watching that involved real estate and twin midgets. I watched the hilarity for quite a while. But you know how people are, they implicitly trust midgets, and that, ladies and gentlemen, is how the midgets got so fucking rich. Not because they sell real estate but because they sell a program to teach you how to sell real estate. Oh, and by the way, to see the midgets in person (well, maybe a video of them) go and see them in Durham on the 7th or Raleigh on the 8th. Don't miss out on an opportunity of a lifetime.
1 comments
I even got one compliment on it today when I went out shopping this afternoon. I decided to pass on the early morning shopping extravaganza but shopping on this day is just in my blood, so I finally gave in and went out.
At the Streets at SouthPoint (you just have to say the whole name. It makes my whole shopping experience sound more sophisticated) I saw Santa Clause and Mrs. Clause. They were cute (in a Santa way) but the kids on their laps were not. I hope that they get paid well to sit there and smile while a kid is crying and being hysterical on their laps while the photographer was constantly ringing a bell trying to get the kids to at least look at the camera, even if they were going to continue to yell. And I don't know if you have ever been there, but they have these statues of kids all over the place and they are rather creepy. I thought one of them was a real person (a real creepy person) but it turned out to be one a statue, but it did scare me thinking it was a real creepy person (and that so totally did not make any sense, but there you have it anyway).
And last night, there was nothing on TV. Well, almost nothing. There was this infomercial that I was watching that involved real estate and twin midgets. I watched the hilarity for quite a while. But you know how people are, they implicitly trust midgets, and that, ladies and gentlemen, is how the midgets got so fucking rich. Not because they sell real estate but because they sell a program to teach you how to sell real estate. Oh, and by the way, to see the midgets in person (well, maybe a video of them) go and see them in Durham on the 7th or Raleigh on the 8th. Don't miss out on an opportunity of a lifetime.
1 comments
1 Comments:
midget twins?!!! can we make that my christmas present? I promise I won't ask them to massage my calves. Oi they hurt!
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