Blizzard #2 (Yes, the second blizzard in less than 2 months).

By popular demand (also known as: hey, I can't figure out how to email videos):

What did you do today?

I did this:



And it was fab. And you better believe my souvenir shell casings are going in my office.

Now, must scrub off gunshot residue before bed.

This is why I have friends at work.

To: [Awesome coworker]
From: Me
Subject: Can we...

...all have a collective vom over the sad Elizabeth Edwards story and move on with our lives? Kthxbye.



To: Me
From: [Awesome coworker]
Subject: RE: Can we...

Dear Elizabeth Edwards,
I'm sorry your husband cheated on you when you have terminal cancer. However, I'm also sorry you didn't back over his good-for-nothing ass with the minivan and then do something with your life before it's too late. If you want to stick around in your ginormous mansion and eat caviar all day while writing a tear-stained book that will make you huge sacks of cash, I find it a little incredible that you expect us all to feel sorry for you.
Stay sweet!
[Awesome Coworker]

Ah, city life.

Taxi driver 1: After spending the entire 15 minute drive telling me about all the passengers he's slept with, ranking them by ethnicity (for some reason he only listed "Asian," "black," and "American." Interesting since he was "Indian." Anyhow.), he turns around, winks, and says: "Do you need a ride home after? I didn't charge you the $2 surcharge."

Overheard on the street corner outside of the gay bar by my house:
Guy 1: I hope you didn't just do to my ear what I think you just did to my ear.
Guy 2: Silence.

Taxi driver 2: "This one day I was really really tired so I nodded off a bit. I was wearing sunglasses so no one could see I was sleeping, but I almost killed a cop and her dog in a crosswalk. Say, did you know you could go to jail for that?"

I snuck away from work Friday afternoon to take Maggie for a jaunt in the park. We had a delightful time frolicking with the schoolkids, meeting other doggies, and then we headed home and ran into a man peeing on the sidewalk. Not on the grass. Not in the very nearby trees. On. The. Sidewalk. I had to sidestep his stream. Viva la spring.

Overheard walking home from work late on Thursday night:
Frat Guy to his date: No, it's not a Nazi uniform. It's a German military uniform.

Every once in awhile I'll realize how very little time I spend in my apartment. A few weeks ago, I noticed that I have not purchased dish soap since I moved in. In September. The small bottle that I moved in with? More than half full. Today, eight months after moving in, I realized that my fridge dispenses cold, filtered water. Score.

Ah, city life. Ain't it grand?

Seven Hours

...and counting until the reunion with this sweet puppy/spawn of satan.

And, all three sisters in the same state? Means that shenanigans will go down. Right, Kermit?

Word.

How (Not) to Have a Rockin' Saturday Night

1. Decide to bring work home to enjoy at least some of the day's sunshine.

2. Actually leave work minutes after the sun sets.

3. Stop for wine on the way home.

4. Get stuck in line behind young 20-somethings buying boxes of wine, cases of beer, and supplies for gallons of jungle juice.

5. Consider following them to the party.

6. Come home instead, realize corkscrew is AWOL.

7. Attempt to uncork wine with scissors and/or screwdriver.

8. Slice the crap out of finger with said scissors and/or screwdriver.

9. Feel pain and bleed when typing and mouse-clicking, given gash in right pointer finger.

10. Smack forehead on laptop.

Deep Thoughts from the Dairy Section

Is there anything less organic than "batter blaster," a processed pancake mixture you squirt out of an aerosol can?