The hell? I turn on iTunes to listen to something while I happily blog away, and the first 3 songs that pop up are crap slow songs. Why do I even have them? I usually bump the skip button on them. Maybe just in case I'm in a craptastic whiny-ass mood? I'm gonna delete 'em. There. I feel better.
Since I haven't blogged in a bit, I have all these things running around in my head to type about, but nothing to really say. Schweet. I'll try to pick some stuff.
Oh, we rescued a crawfish at work. I say we, even though I didn't do much and certainly wanted no part in touching it. Anyhow, I'm getting ahead of myself here. Christine, Rhonda and yours truly were outside the other morning before work, grabbing our last chance nicotine and caffeine. Anyhow, I'm sitting on the curb and I see this...thing...walking/scuttling across the asphalt. At first I thought it was some big mutated scorpion. So, I do what anyone would do. Stay the feck away from it, point and say, "What the hell is that?" Christine and Rhonda say, "What?" turn around, and then, "Oh, Shit!" They get closer to it, and look and stuff, while I am still staying the feck away from it. Rhonda sticks her shoe in front of it, and it does a crazy kung-fu move, holding both of it's little snappers in the air and standing straight up. Shit, it scared me. I totally wouldn't fuck with the Crawfish in fight mode. Christine proceeds to piss it off even more, so it's really stuck in that position. Heee-yah! Wuaaaaah! Ker-pow!
Now, Christine being the only brave one, manages to pick it up, and we notice it's got some weird shite going on on it's underside. Seriously, it looks like someone chewed up a bunch of hamburger and gum together and stuck it underneath this Crawfish. We check with Dr. SL and he says it's preggers! It's a girl! Woohoo! Crawmomma. We put it in a litter box with some water, and she immediately pops out a baby crawfish. It starts swimming happily around. Us being lunatics, we all say, "AWWWWWwwwww!!!!" Like it's a cute mammal or something, when in reality it's a mutated scorpion. We witnessed the miracle of life, and that's always cute right?! Awww.
Being degenerates, we go back outside to finish up the nic and caff fixes. 10 minutes later when we return, Craw-momma has had like 150 babies. Seriously! Dr. SL said he would take the crawmomma back home and put her in the lake, but we're kinda secretly afraid he's going to fry her up and eat her. Anyway, by the time I was ready to leave, the babies weren't doing so hot. A lot of them were looking not so....alive. So, we flushed the babies, and put craw-momma in a tupperware. You should have seen some of the girls at work...the faces when I said we flushed the babies. They said that they were fine like 15 minutes ago, and I said they weren't fine like 10 seconds ago, and I seriously think they were lacking in the belief department. Humpf.
I took Craw-Momma home and put her in our lake, while Dakota kept the ducks at bay. I considered singing Born Free as she swam/scuttled away, but I really don't know the song or anything, so it would have just sounded like I was talking really slow. (That seemed like very incorrect grammar...oh well.)
In any case, as far as I can tell, Crawmamma got away scott-free to try again at making Craw-babbies. (Yes, I said babbies) As for the flushed babies, look for reports of a sewer infestation of Crawfish in Tampa.
Shit, I accidentally hit the caps lock, and typed out like 3 sentences before I noticed. i AM N r-TARD.
Ok, so! One more joyous tidbit of news, and then I will be donesky for today. Bet you thought I said donkey there huh. Nope, I was ridiculous and said 'done-ski'.
My old boss that I hate (I do hate her, I don't hate anyone but her...she is the worst person I have ever known, and I hope no one tops that) went out of business. I hope she ran out of money. That would be karma at it's best. Though I shouldn't be thinking vengeful thoughts if karma really works.
Anyhow, she decided to close up shop, gave her hairstylists 3 days notice to get out. Yeah 3 days. She screwed over everyone with a "VIP" card, which was spend blah blah get 1 point per dollar, get a pedicure for 50 million points or whatever. She wouldn't let people redeem the VIP points, and if they really tried to use those points anyhow, she guilted them, saying, the person performing the service wasn't gonna get paid. Anyhow, I heard other stuff as well, but just know, she screwed over everyone she could in every way she could.
I got my hair cut (or, "her did" [say it out loud, you'll get it] if you will) this afternoon. She went way shorter than I requested really, but it still looks good. 'Cause I'm hawt like that. I went in with trepidation b/c the stylist's name was...erg...Brandy. I was pleasantly surprised. She was pleasantly non-anorexic, and had a personality. It took her an hour and a half or so to wash/cut/dry my hair 'cause we were blathering so much. At first I wanted to blame her for taking so long, but really, that was like the best hair appointment ever. So, I'm not mad. She is by far the coolest hair cutter person I have ever been to without knowing them first.
Alright, I'm done. Fer real.
P.S. I had a conversation with my boss today. It was interesting. I'll give the tell-all account of it tomorrow. I'm sure the suspense is killing you. If it's not, it will be!
