February 2012
18 posts
“Things are going to get hard. It’s called LYFE.”
– Myself, just now, giving myself some tough love.
Miss Manners on Murder
Ever since my ex-boyfriend slash stalker slash aspiring serial killer has reinserted himself into my lyfe, I’ve felt the need to add the following caveat whenever I make plans: “If I’m not dead.”
For example, “Yes! I’d love to go to dinner with you at Chez Pierre on Thursday, if I’m not dead.”
Or, “Oh, sorry. I can’t go to the movies...
Scenes From My Office, Act Two
Stage lights rise. Dumbledore sits behind a desk covered in balled-up tissues, coughing loudly. Various half-empty bottles containing cold remedies are on the ledge behind him. He takes a tissue out of the box and forcefully blows his nose.
GossipGirlOnBlast enters stage right, holding a piece of paper.
Me: Here you go, Dumbledore.
Dumbledore: (murmuring) Thank you.
Dumbledore lurches over his desk in a coughing fit that lasts several seconds. GossipGirlOnBlast removes a pair of latex gloves from her back pocket and puts them on.
Me: Now, may I have that paper back please.
Dumbledore looks up at GossipGirlOnBlast with surprised, bloodshot eyes.
Dumbledore: Why?
Me: That's Voldemort's copy.
Dumbeldore smiles weakly and hands GossipGirlOnBlast the piece of paper. GossipGirlOnBlast exits stage right, skipping.
Dumbledore: God speed, my child. God speed.
Scenes From My Office, Act One
Voldemort enters stage left, enveloped by a black mist. Swirling his cape and throwing it over his right shoulder he speaks...
Voldemort: You're taking way too long on this project! This isn't some intellectual exercise that you can just take your time with to explore!
GossipGirlOnBlast raises her head and looks at Voldemort, petulantly. She lifts her teacup off of its saucer, takes a sip, and replaces it.
Me: I understand. And you have my assurances that I have absolutely no intellectual curiosity about this project whatsoever.
Voldemort: -_____________-
Voldemort exits stage left, glowing red eyes just visible through the black mist.
You Guise..."Totes Amazeballs" cereal is now a... →
I CANT!…wait to dig in my spoon. Oink.
Chats with Fwendz: There's a vaccine for that
Akon: I just found out that theres a new STD out there that everyone's catching :(
Me: Aids?
Akon: No it's called feelings
Me: ROROROR
Me: Good thing I got inoculated
Chats with Fwendz: Motherhood is the new...
Me: shit motherfucker fuck SHIT. that creepy old guy just invited himself to my dinner party
Jorge: i thought that was the guy you wanted to have babies with
Me: bish the only person i want to have babies with is prince harry
Me: or really any prince
Me: even the artist formerly known as prince would be acceptable
Jorge: the fresh prince of bel air?
Me: hell yes
Me: his kids are super talented
Me: $$$ MUNNIE $$$
You picked the wrong time to walk into my office.
Me (on phone): … And I was all like, ‘Don’t MAKE me stab the shit out of you, bitch!’
Voldemort:
You know you've been watching too much Ghost...
You freak out as soon as you see three marks on your shoulder and think a demon just marked you with the sign of the trinity!!!…
And then you realize it’s just an imprint from the seaming on the inside of your sweatshirt.
TEAM KENYA!
My prediction for the winna! Get ‘em gurr.
Lord hear my prayer.
Please don’t make me kill any one of these people today.
Thank you, Jesus.
XOXO,
GossipGirlOnBlast
I don't do weekends. Sober.
Dumbledore: What are you working on?
Me: Well, it's 6:02 on Friday night, so I was actually working on getting the fuck out of here.
Dumbledore: Are you going to be somewhere close by tomorrow?
Me: -____________-
Dumbledore: Gimme your cell phone. I doubt I'll have you come in, but just in case.
Me: Grrrreeeaaaaaaat. I'll definitely be close by. But I may be drunk.
Dumbledore: On a Saturday morning?
Me: That's just how I roll.
Don't we have an office policy in place for this?
I’m just sitting in my office this morning, and suddenly I hear a high-pitched “Noooooooooooo.” My first thought was that the building was going down (wishful thinking). But then I see a child lying face-down in my doorway.
So I do what any rational person would do: I pick the child up by the armpits, walk out into the hallway, and shout, “Does this belong to...
So does this mean I can get worker's comp?
Dumbledore: Where were you?
Me: At the eye doctor.
Dumbledore: Really? What's wrong?
Me: Oh, I have this pain behind my right eye.
Dumbledore: I bet the "pain" is Voldemort.
Me: True. But they don't make eye drops for that.