The convenience store up the road allows refills on a ginormous 44 ounce cup for .86, and because the fog is so thick outside this morning and it took me an hour and a half to drive the mile to the store I had plenty of time to figure out that I spend $4.30 a week on ginormous Dr Pepper refills. Thankfully that much math made my brain bust into an Eminem song before it could calculate exactly how much toxious sugar that amounts to.
At a recent quarter wing Girl's night out at Oscars I thought to order my wings "cripsy", because "crispy" is good while soggy is not and the last few times they have rocked the sog. Eight wings and a beer is $5, so I was a little confused when the girl behind the counter said "$6.24". Apparently that extra minute searching for crisp shortens the life span of greasy goodness to the tune of $1. Okay then...worth it. A little while later my disco square lit up and I went to claim my wings only to discover The Crisp had not been achieved. Fifteen minutes after the agreed upon Do Over wherein the girl was to bring the wings out to me, I went back to the counter and was told they had to redo them again because one got burned. If you get up right now and go stare in the mirror while squinching your eyebrows together and crinkling your nose you'll be looking at my face because 1) Wait. What? 2) Who cooks chicken wings one at a time? 3) My usual $5 dinner turned into $9 because Hello Beer #2 and 4) You just made that face, didn't you?
A friend has 2 daughters graduating from high school tonight. A few of us that went to school together were sitting around the bar at her house contemplating the implications of High School Graduation. And then we all fell over dead because HOW LONG AGO WAS THAT!?
I just looked over my shoulder at this
and now I'm heading to the shiny shack
because the mess out there?
It mocks not.