"Don't eat anything with a face"
I'm glad for the warning. I was growing quite a bit ravenous and was on the brink of fully consuming, even ingesting my wrist watch. har har
I spied this clever little bumper sticker clinging for dear life to the rear-end of a white, early 90's Nissan Stanza earlier this afternoon. This bumper sticker was not alone, nay, it was one amongst perhaps a dozen other bumper stickers heralding similar messages (including, but certainly not limited to, the ever-popular "Beef: it's what's rotting in your colon").
I used to be a vegetarian many moons ago. I'm approximately 6 years into the rehabilitation process. My biggest beef (no pun intended) was with chicken, surprisingly. During my prime years as non-carnivore, I would eat a t-bone steak far before I would sit down to a bucket of KFC. I'm not quite certain of the logic behind it all - I'm just reporting the facts, folks.
But I will now digress from the entire vegetarian bit and move onto a much more important subject. Let's get serious now and talk about the Pet Shop Boys two doors down from this very office.
They are not actually called "The Pet Shop Boys" but I am using this nickname in place of their actual business name in order to protect the innocent. I believe they must be, however, the only pet shop in Jersey City. I see the trucks there nearly every day. Not just one or two trucks, but several. SEVERAL delivery trucks come and go from this tiny little pet shop no larger than the adult video section of blockbuster (not that I would know or anything). Day in and day out Amanda and I spy the delivery trucks stopping by, unloading, and then driving away only to return two days later. It has mystified us for quite some time. Who are these Pet Shop Boys that they can manage to conduct so much business in a shop as small as their's? I'm continuously amazed by not only the number of staff that works in such a small space, but also the vehicles that the staff drives. Mercedes, BMW, and Audi are three logos that we have become accustomed to seeing parked in front of the shop, emergency flashers keeping the rhythm of the night for fright that some bastardly officer will stop by and issue citation for illegal stopping or standing or anything in between. I'm simply mystified. That is all. Amanda asked the other day how much revenue they pull in each month (or perhaps the information was volunteered - I'm not quite sure) and I wish I could remember how much it is, for I know that it was a relatively substantial amount. Dammit. I'll report back. It's a lot. I would buy a new car. Or perhaps a dog. Maybe both. Who knows?
My eyes feel inside out today.
I recently lent out my new Muse CD and just got it back last night. I feel as though I've been without it for weeks when, in fact, it's been a mere four days or so. I was craving it last night, however, and was more than pleased to get it back. I rocked it on my commute into work this morning and nearly wept (not really). It did make me want to smash into things with my car though. Oh please, I beg, don't get the wrong idea. I wanted to smash into things not out of anger, but out of something happy. I wouldn't quite call it joy - that's a tad jovial - but most definitely something happy was causing the urge. Is there joy in smashing things with your car? I don't think I ever thought that there might be perhaps maybe.
Pero mi cabeza esta loco y no se la problema... pero mi corazon esta mas loco.
Hago las cosas que son estupidas. Yo no digo lo que quiero. Yo no cuido para este muchacho y este muchacho no cuida para mi, pero lo quiero a.
*** Just for the record, Stop 'n' Shop has some fabulous flavored seltzer water. My recommendation is Peaches & Cream. ***
I love my job today. Genuinely. I have been so incredibly self-absorbed the past few months and my deepest apologies and sympathies go out to those who have had to deal with me.
If you've met me within the past 6 months, you have not really met me. That's not me. That's the jaded, confused, weird, sometimes lonely, crabby, complaining, disenchanted, smelly version of me.
I laugh (often)
I cry (only over actual spilled milk)
I facilitate (random acts of destruction - all in love, mind you)
I instigate (all sorts of curiousness)
I pet (dogs and cats and even turtles if the occasion calls for it. Sometimes even people)
I read (everything)
I poke (fun of things)
I love (everyone and for my feet to be tickled)
I hate (you know what I hate)
I say (what I mean)
I do (what I say)
Meet me again. I'm back to normal (almost).