1. What everyone doesn't realize is that those shoes were supposed to be a gift. And the angry yelling wasn't screaming--it was a poor middle-eastern translation of "Sweet Child O' Mine" (the sound guy was asleep at the wheel. Obviously, this fellow was just so enamored with our still-president that he felt he should give him a gift for...you know...fucking up his country.
Can we just have our bike?
2. I've instituted a new "no sitting by jappy girls at the library" policy. This morning, three of them literallly talked to each other in for five minutes despite my angry glares. And then one of them picked up her phone and started chatting...right there.
MEMO TO STUPID PEOPLE: Just because you talk in a breathy voice does not mean you are whispering. I can hear you. You are loud. My mother would be disappointed in you for forgetting the 6 inch voice lesson.
On a happier note...can we all sit back and remember how a year ago tomorrow, Alan got drunker than me on my birthday and "Fuck you...you stop drinking" was born?
Good times.
