So right now I’m eating an old “binge” favorite: chocolate bar dipped into Jif creamy peanut butter. Don’t look at me that way, it’s my lunch damn it! Anyway, I prepped by bringing in two Hershey’s chocolate bars and the jar of Jif. Just finished one and you know what? It’s not as fun to eat when it’s a “legal” meal. It just isn’t.
*****************************************************
I went shopping today as it is Esteban’s mother’s birthday and we must pay homage to her tonight. We’re smack in the middle of the stressful time of year for “event anniversaries”. It starts with Esteban’s parent’s anniversary, then Mother’s Day, then OUR anniversary, then Esteban’s mom’s birthday, then MY birthday, then Father’s Day, then Esteban’s Dad’s birthday, then the 4th of July, which thankfully does not require gifts.
I got her a gift certificate. She’s really hard to buy for. She’s the Martha Stewart of De Pere, WI and whatever she wants, she buys. I would have gotten her a paper shredder but she already has one.
I also picked up some toilet paper. Somehow, it is my responsibility to make sure that we have ass wipe. Ah yes, it is part of “All the is not Kitchen”. Anyway, this morning, Esteban needed to go and move his computer lab, so he woke up early and left this morning, apparently using the last 50 yards of toilet paper which was on the roll. I had estimated that we’d have enough until, say, Sunday at least, but no. When I woke up this morning, no toilet paper. Luckily, I just had to pee, so I peed and then took a shower. I found this to be most resourceful of me. I was a Girl Scout at one point, after all. Then I dressed and busted over to get some because I seriously couldn’t see us showering after each trip to the bathroom all day.
Just got peanut button on my keyboard.
Anyway, the mall was fucking packed. Because it’s raining and this is Green Bay which means that there is NOTHING to do here. So everyone heads to the mall instead. Ridiculous.
So I ended up spending WAY more time there than I wanted to because the One Hour photo place should really be renamed the Whenever We Fucking Feel Like Making Your Photos place. Because they totally have you, you know. You fill out your little “One Hour” slip and plan on paying the extra amount to get your pictures faster and then you carefully plot out one hour of time (which, honestly, was far longer than I wanted to be there anyway, but I figured I’d be leisurely and tough it out). Then when an hour is up, you go and get it and they tell you 30 more minutes. So know they’ve got you by the balls and they KNOW it. If you say “Fuck it” and leave, well, then you might as well have put your photos in the 2 Day cheap developing method because now you’re going to have to come BACK to the Mall of No Return anyway. So you wait it out. And bitch. And stare at the photo-tards behind the counter.
Unclebob is a Bank Drive Through Vigilante. I’m wondering if he can give me some pointers on being the One Hour Photo Vigilante.
And let me just say this. I am overweight. I know this. I’m one fat bitch, as some might say. But I realize that one should NOT wear stretch pants that show every curve and terrain of your cellulite. The photo-tard was wearing stretch denim leggings. And a short shirt. Like maybe three months ago when she decided that it would be a good outfit, the shirt was longer and covered the bumpy horrible area of her butt/thighs. I’m willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. But now, apparently there has been a dryer mishap and the shirt has shrunk and no longer covers that region. So time to find a longer shirt, is all I’m saying. Or don’t wear tight pants with it. Cover yourself, photo-tard girl. That’s all I’m saying.
And I’m saying it as I try to dig a piece of chocolate out of a jar of peanut butter.
*****************************************************
And that brings up another good point. Just because you can find something in your size, doesn’t mean that you should wear it.
For instance: the Avenue right now has t-shirts with horizontal stripes on them. In size 30-32. Not the best idea but not completely horrible.
The Lane Bryant catalog sells the aforementioned stretch denim leggings as well as other crimes of fashion.
Belly shirts. Shirts that show off your mid-region. Not pretty above size 20, I’m certain. But they have them.
Let’s use some common sense, people!
*****************************************************
And why is it that whenever product packagers have something that is stretchy, they write the word “STRETCH” on the package in an elongated fashion?
S T R E T C H
As though the word itself were stretching out to show how stretchy the product is?
Is there someone on this planet that does not know what the word “STRETCH” means and has to have it demonstrated for them.
“Well, Marge, I was gonna buy dese here athletic socks, but I want them to be a little elasticy and I’m not sure if they will have elastic in them. There’s this word here, ‘stretch’ but I don’t have a thesaurus or any other such book and I’m stumped. Aw, to hell with it.” (and puts the package back down)
No. I don’t think so. So then I wondered if possibly they were doing it for people who couldn’t read. But then I thought, if I couldn’t read, would I realize that the letters were stretching out? Or would I just ignore all words entirely?
So I’m clueless on this, but it annoys the hell out of me.
*****************************************************
My old personal website on Chickpages is no more. Guess I’ll have to get on the stick and finish my new one. I’m lazy that way.
If you’d like to see it, it’s up but partially finished.
http://www.wendywoohoo.homestead.com
Pictures aren’t up yet and a bunch of links don’t work. But I found a chubby Tinkerbell to put on it, so I’m pretty happy about that.
*****************************************************
Mwah!
