July 20, 2005
Another Day in Paradise
My Deepest Apologies to Onewetleg yesterday, as I failed to include her super snazzy ultimate cool link instead of the boring standard underlined one.
To make up for this gross act of negligence, I'm going to make up for it with this:
Pretty super freaking cool, eh? I thought so!
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On another quickie type side note, the Corporate Work Nazis here where I work have just officially Denied Our Access to blogspot.com. Guess it was bound to happen, but it sure ticks off one certain Clipchick on her lunch time. So far, thank goodness, they haven't blocked this site.
But I know it's coming!
Damn, I need to get a computer at home...
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I got into a very slight altercation this morning with some local Town Meth Hoars. They were driving in front of me waiting for the traffic light to turn green. Apparently, the light wasn't moving as fast as they were, so they decided that they wanted to do the back up move forward trick to try to trip the light. Much to their charged up chagrin, however, my car happened to be behind theirs.
Methchick on the right looks back at me and mouths "back up" while flapping her hand in a motion that is the Universal Crank Sign to move back, I guess, but as I'm not a Meth Head and it was pretty damn early in the morning, I failed to comprehend what she was doing for the first .25 seconds of the motion. Seeing that I was obviously too slow and possibly retarded, she decided to help me out with the sign language and yell out her window "Bitch, back up!". Unfortunately for her, my windows were rolled up.
I can, however, read lips.
I glanced in my rearview mirror, discovered that the person behind me was in training to be a part time proctologist, and mouthed back "Sorry-I can't."
At that point the light turned green, and we proceeded the approx. 10 feet into the parking lot of the store we both were apparently going into.
Oh joy.
I get out of the car, have the pleasure of following the driver of said vehicle into the store, and get a good look at her.
Oh, Glory!
Picture if you will a lady (I say this loosely) with dirty hair, plentiful pimples, and pajamas with orange and yellow flames on them. While she cuts me off in line to stand in front of me to Make Me Pay for not giving in to her co-pilot's wishes, she mutters, "Nice driving job, C--t." I am not a fan of this word whatsoever, even when it is pronounced with a K.
Not to be outdone, I say loudly, "Not as nice as those pajamas you've been wearing for the past week. Boy, where can I get me some of those?"
Surprisingly, that shuts her up. She buys her Crankster Lights, and exits the building.
I take my time buying my stuff as it's entirely too early in the morning to have words with someone who's obviously ill equipped in the first place, and I'm not, nor will I ever be, a boxer. In fact, I much prefer to take the time telling someone in such graphic detail how much I'm going to kick their ass that they either believe me and don't want to fight me, or fall asleep from boredom.
Wouldn't you know it? I get the pleasure of waiting directly behind the Methmobile for the light to change again. I'm turning right, my signal's on. Hers was on first, but as soon as she sees this, she decides to go straight instead.
The light turns green.
She waits through the entire light until it turns red, then guns through the intersection, thinking she's really screwed me over.
I turn right anyway, as it's my legal right to do when traffic from the opposite direction has a turning lane that's going into said parking lot.
Strange start to a day, but really not bad at all.
I just really hope I made her day by thinking she got one over on the sober chick. It's the least I can do!
clipchick at 5:44 p.m.
All thoughts, ideas, and musings are � Clipchick. Please don't snipe my stuff!
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