The world of scented plastic has a new united front. If you don't believe me check out
Record you own strawbeery dance here.
::Download Flash SWF::
They have combined strawberry shortcake and my little pony into one sweet world of narcotically strong plastic fullfillment. I met a straweberry shortcake at the Salvation Army recently and she still smelled after living through the 80s and 90s. It makes me wonder what kind of toxic compounds make her have such an exceptional "half-life"
Last night at
(e:robins) party I though there was this bowl of ashes in the food area. Turned out to be a bowl fill of zauberpilze. I ate a handfull figuring why not, it isn't often they have these kind of snacks materialize.
It ended up being the strangest evening. First of all never watch the Chuckie movie before such an adventure. I spent the entire night thinking about chuckie. At one point I convinced myself the only thing that could stop him was strawberry shortcakes sweet scented plastic smell. In my dream I would see evil chuckie and everything was lik black and red and burned. Then a my little pony would ride in with sparkle glitter and stars trailing behind her and a strawberry shortcake doll on her back. Her strawberry smell would cover everything and my dream would return to a natural green scheme which was much more calming.
Saw
(e:enknot) for a bit and we taked about new rss like feeds that are pure javascript. We bored everyone but ourselves with out computer talk. Frankly, it was some of the most interesting conversation of the night. I bet you will see more javascript feeds.
There was tons of crazy teacher to student flirt action which was so bizarre considering it all started with a conversation about Mary Kay Letourneau
(WIKIPEDIA - Mary_Kay_Letourneau), the teacher with the 13 year old boyfriend that ended up in jail and latter married him.
I had a someone confess their crush on me.
Hate me because I am white and middle class
On the way walking home from
(e:robins) there was this increasingly large group of black people that was walking ahead of us. It started out with two guys double riding on a bike but they got off and went slow right next to us, then more and more of them gathered.
As more and more of them gathered I would have normally avoided it (any group of ten people - even hippies) by myself but
(e:terry) and
(e:matthew) just trudged through. Of course this caused a commotion. The people patted us down to scope and size us up, all in the guise of a hug for the sabres victory which I had no idea about.
I think the main dude was trying to show off in front of the ladies. I think they really wanted to beat up
(e:terry) because of his overwhelming whiteness but I think the guy realized he wasn't a little guy when he patted him down. It was the first time in my life I would have been ready to fight, even though they still woud have taken me down. That felt good.
It is kind of ridiculous that I have to be threatended walking home just because I am white and not poor.
Usually, this kind of stuff doesn't happen to me so much alone because I am not so white. But mix
(e:terry) and
(e:matthew) in and it gets a lot crazier. It's like when I was in Mexico with
(e:terry) - we were the target of every scam artist and prostitute.
It made me realize that is exactly why people live in the suburbs. I mean this
(e:paul,692) kind of stuff doesn't happen in Kenmore but you do get stuff like this
(e:zobar,44) that would drive me just as insane.
Stop hugging my in the name of intimidation
I am really sick of strangers trying to hug me to find out what i have on me. It is such a perversion of a peaceful move. It kind of makes me want a tazer. This one night some guy at the subway stop at Utica and Main put his arm around my neck and talked for like 10 minutes about how he wanted more money for beer but he didn't know where to get it, insinuating that I had it. Anytime I tried to move he would just tighten his arm a bit untill he finally realized I really didn't have anything but a subway token with me and let me go. That was before the gym. I think now it wouldn't happen so much because I would have just punched the drunk in the face. It is precisely why I will not live on Prospect though and why the houses on Normal Street cost about 12k and always will.
I just don't understand what makes people act that way. There is no way I would do the same thing to poor people walking through my neighborhood. But honestly, I can't just pretend like it is just a economic class thing, it is totally racist that they target us. We are totally targeted because we are white. I have noticed the same thing on elmwood. It used to be that poor people asked me for money. But now it often hapens that black guy's in nicer clothes than I have harass me for money and get angry when I say I don't have any. What the hell is up with that?
The cream stuff isn't really about being small. It is about adding size to it. Just like some girls with good sized breasts still want them bigger. A lot of avarage guys would still like a few more inches if they could have it. I think the real aim of those ads are for people who have erictile problems or whos penis gets hard but dosn't completely fill with blood. I think spam is still no whare as bad yet as Junk Mail. I rent and get stuff saying i can now get a loan to lower my house payments, I get car insurance stuff and don't own and never owned a car.
stories about your dad, are seriously the funniest ever. on the other hand, my friends dad did just burn down half of their neighbors house yesterday. julie got home, and her whole family was on the couch crying. even her teenage brother.
Ragarding your spam issues, there are people out there who recycle spam, turning it into poetry...
:::link:::
Part of my job involves customer support (it's a small company, so part of my job involves anything...). I get people worse off than your dad...
The worst: I had a customer complain that our software broke her computer. She insisted that it was the last program she'd ran. (Since our software's shite, I wasn't suprised. Still, I'd never seen it actually fry a machine.) So, I have her check a few things. Nothing worked. Eventually, the truth was revealed... The power in her building was shut off for the day. She was on her cell phone. She had threatened to have me sued, fired, and at one point even threatened physical harm...
Best part... this woman is a dean at a health care professional school. It's prestigious and in Boston, and rhymes with "Marvard".
I just read that story out loud to dad, he was laughing hysterically. But you don't know the first part of the story, they called me at work first....asked if we have a disk drive...I was like "are you sure it isn't a cd" and he insisted it wasn't...I told him the disk drive was on top of the computer...he first insisted it wasn't there then hung up (I guess he didn't believe me) and then called you...where the hilarity ensued
At least he didn't tell you "that's not a disk drive, it's a cup holder!"
OMG. You had me going there. The hole punch was just to make them write-enabled. You could then write on both sides if they were double-density. Holy christ! How old am I? lol.
hehehe cute story about your dad... I remember that style of floppy. I much prefer the circular ones, haha.
you mean this stuff doesn't work...damn fooled again