I am not generally a clumsy person. (I don't count spilling food on yourself, which I do about once a week. Shout Wipes, I love you!) I fell the other night. I don't fall very often, and I can usually remember when I do. I fell off my bike in the sixth grade after skidding on some sand while making a turn. I still have the scar on my elbow from where I lost a whole chunk of skin. In eighth grade, I suffered one of the most embarrassing moments in my life when I whiffed while going for a soccer kick in gym class and ended flat on my back. I was mortified. I was like Pele, how could that have happened? Chances are, I was busy looking at a boy. There aren't too many examples besides that. I fell on purpose in ninth grade to make my classmates laugh. I threw my pen on the floor and intentionally flipped my desk over when leaning forward to get it. Hey, I was bored in class. I had to do something. Of course, come yearbook time, there in big letters on the "Remember When" page was, "Remember when Pam flipped over her desk in history class?" I never told anyone I did it on purpose. Aside from these moments, I'm pretty fall-free, which is amazing considering some of the shoes I wear. People always feel the need to make comments and ask how on earth I can walk in them. They're platforms, honey, I can run my ass off in these. Anyway, fast forward to Friday night. I had just gotten porked while picking up some Chinese food for me and Lucy. We had two appetizers - boneless spare ribs and chicken wings and a side order of veggie fried rice for Lucy. The total? $19.53 Porked! Are they insane? In the great words of a guy whose name I can't remember who went to Denny's with us late one night and marveled at the $6.00 price of a BLT, "That better come with a blow job." Totally porked. I also had to park in the side parking lot, which is on a sideways hill, so I was looking down at my car as I was fussing with my keys and muttering to myself about the highway robbery that just occurred. Then it happened. I slipped a little to the side off of my sandals and slammed right into my car door. 3 bruises appeared on my leg immediately. The neighboring folks could hear shouts of, "SON of a BITCH!" all around. Luckily, no one witnessed it or I would have had to pull the classic Faller's Response and start looking around on the ground to see what I had tripped over. But I didn't have to do that this time. I was saved. And I knew exactly what had caused it. I'd been betrayed by my friend Steve Madden. His comfortable sandals reared their ugly head in protest to the food prices and revolted, bringing me along with them. Now I don't want to wear shorts as half of my leg is purple and starting to turn that sexy greenish-yellow tinge. Mmm, the boys love them some of that. Rowr! Ugh.

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Speaking of boys, this has been bothering me all weekend. Men of the world, why do you spit? A coworker and I watched a guy leaving the office next door and just hocking up a big old loogie and sending it flying. What is in your mouths that you feel the need the spread your spittle for all of the world to see? I mean, reallly. I want to know. Chewing tobacco I'll let slide. I'll also overlook seed-spitting contests and such. I've still never forgiven my friend for secretly entering me in one of those at this backwoods county fair last year. Revenge is a dish best served cold, my friend. Also? People won money for that. Spitting. Three prizes, ranging from $20 to $5. (I came in 4th) Cash for spitting. Gotta love it. Maybe that's what all of these guys all over the country are really doing - practicing for seed spitting contests. Nah. So what's with all of the spitting? I'm still just dumbfounded as to what is in your mouth that you feel such a need to expel so quickly and skeezily. Did you eat a bloody mary flavored jelly bean? I remember those tasting like ass. (Not that I would know, just what I imagine ass would taste like. Try one, you'll agree.) Can't be, those were discontinued. Do you think women like that? Are we supposed to be getting all turned on by your manliness? Because dude, that's just nastariffic. The worst are the ones who make the noise, too. The big "hcwchk" as they summon all of the saliva they've ever contained in their mouth forever. Arise, dear friend spittle, as now is the time of your departure! Gross. Boys of the world - listen to me. Chicks don't dig it. At all. Enough with the spitting. Got it? Thanks.

before & after





2007-09-26 - Follow Me!
2006-09-30 - Site Move & Favorite Entries
2006-09-25 - Evil Easter Bunnies & Rock Climbing!
2006-09-22 - Shameful-Purchase Hiding & A New Dentist Plan
2006-09-19 - Birthday Picture/Video Diary & The Wheelmobile





Copyright 2003-2006 by Sockgirlie. Stealing is wrong.