Home Sweet WTF???
>> Sunday, July 13, 2008 –
burnt toast,
cooking,
food,
gulfport,
women
Yup. I'm home. And using the geological scale of time, my time at home is something on the order of one ten thousand sexdecillionth of a second, as early tomorrow I am off to the Coast again. Like how I am subliminally planting a message in that statement?
But this time I am prepared for a week's stay. When I left last week, it was only for two days. Two turned into three, three into four, four into five and a half. Did you like that sliding scale of mathematical progression there?
Anyway, I'm prepared. I'm taking two suitcases. One with clothes and the other with underwear because you just never know. The less I shop at the creepy Wal-Mart in Gulfport, the better off my mental state will be. Honestly, it's like crossing over into some demented workshop of genetic experiments conducted by psychotic, angry, hermaphroditic midgets. Freaky!
And this time I will be staying at an extended stay hotel, which means that I do not have to tolerate crap food except for my own. I'd rather eat a week's worth of Tuna Bean Rice™ than subject myself to substandard bacterial science projects from the local restaurants.
Of course, should I encounter a beautiful, well-adjusted woman to accompany me to a nice dinner, I may reconsider my Tuna Bean Rice™ menu. The young Yugoslavian gal from the Hard Rock Casino I met a few weeks ago turned out to be all brains, if you know what I mean. We had lunch together Saturday and I was ready to walk out before the sweet tea hit the table. I can only talk about shopping and manicures and your long list of failed relationships for so long.
Me: Do you realize that the United Nations wants to impose draconian taxes velied as a green policy of environmental carbon output reductions on the world's largest economies in an effort to, in effect, redistribute the wealth of the world?
Her: What's a carbon output?
Me: Check please!
But this time I am prepared for a week's stay. When I left last week, it was only for two days. Two turned into three, three into four, four into five and a half. Did you like that sliding scale of mathematical progression there?
Anyway, I'm prepared. I'm taking two suitcases. One with clothes and the other with underwear because you just never know. The less I shop at the creepy Wal-Mart in Gulfport, the better off my mental state will be. Honestly, it's like crossing over into some demented workshop of genetic experiments conducted by psychotic, angry, hermaphroditic midgets. Freaky!
And this time I will be staying at an extended stay hotel, which means that I do not have to tolerate crap food except for my own. I'd rather eat a week's worth of Tuna Bean Rice™ than subject myself to substandard bacterial science projects from the local restaurants.
Of course, should I encounter a beautiful, well-adjusted woman to accompany me to a nice dinner, I may reconsider my Tuna Bean Rice™ menu. The young Yugoslavian gal from the Hard Rock Casino I met a few weeks ago turned out to be all brains, if you know what I mean. We had lunch together Saturday and I was ready to walk out before the sweet tea hit the table. I can only talk about shopping and manicures and your long list of failed relationships for so long.
Me: Do you realize that the United Nations wants to impose draconian taxes velied as a green policy of environmental carbon output reductions on the world's largest economies in an effort to, in effect, redistribute the wealth of the world?
Her: What's a carbon output?
Me: Check please!
