Today at work I learned several things. I learned that even though you buy a totally crappy cup of coffee, there are ways of making it taste even worse. By putting several pumps of artificial flavoring, your coffee can go from dirty to gag-inducing.
Crazy-Eyed Willy from Wal-Mart came in and returned his half empty Diet Hillbilly Holler cans (only 2nd best name to the classic Country Doctor. My sister and her whore freckles love slurping on that Country Doctor.) I'm assuming that Crazy-Eyed Willy from Wally World's cans are filled with nothing but urine considering that the stench resembles a Kirkwood classroom. While holding my breath, I pour out Willy's cans and he tells me the stories that make me proud to be an American. Apparently, at Wal-Mart you're only allowed a certain salary and if you meet that salary from working so much early in the year, you're required to work for no pay for the rest of the year. He also told me that women get paid significantly less than men. Too bad he's preaching to the wrong person because I think women are paid less everywhere. Or maybe my women's studies major friend made that all up (I love you, Alyse.)
Someone just called Hy-Vee and asked that the dog food specialist be directed to the dog food aisle because they're in the store and they need help. I am literally feet away from them. I decided to send my manager over. She looks like she knows her Kibbles 'n' Bits. That same manager asked all the employees to fill out a survey on the new parking lot lights. NO ONE took it seriously and I was laughing myself into a coma. I had to take pictures of them so everyone out there that reads this blog (all 4 of you) understand the severity of this comedic GOLD.
Conifer Smith (my beloved ceramics teacher) must have read my previous post about my potential throw-down because she was mysteriously nice to me this morning. Actually, she invited the whole class to study abroad with her in Japan this July but I knew it was mainly directed towards me because her puny Satan eyes were glittering the most in my direction. That could have been due to the fact that we were outside around a blazing fire and I was standing where there was no smoke. Even though I'm pretty sure she was just picturing me in my birthday suit.
Today was the first day that I enjoyed ceramics even a little bit. I made a bowl and it did not ignite and then explode into a million shards. I only wish that Snooki was here to celebrate with me. Hell, even a cardboard cut out of her 4'9" alien body would make me happy. I just need someone to go with me to pick up meat-heads at the gym.
I ordered the Situation's new book, "Here's the Situation: A Guide to Creeping on Chicks, Avoiding Grenades, and Getting in Your GTL on the Jersey Shore" from Amazon as soon as I got home. I guess Barnes & Noble is too classy to carry the Sitch's book because when I went in there and demanded it, the woman behind the counter contemplated beating me up right then and there. Even though I find it hard to believe that they are too good for that kind of book. Last book I bought there (Ecstasy by Irvine Welsh) had an entire chapter discussing the difference between being intimate with a child and an animal. I'm not sure what's wrong with Irvine Welsh but I immediately felt sick and put that book down. There is no way that the Situation's book can be less classy than intercourse with a lamb (thank you Irvine Welsh for that mental picture). Either way, I'm excited to get it in the mail so I can laugh fa dayz and drool over his perfectly sculpted man-body.
Speaking of nude, I have to get to work on my serial killer paper. I'm wondering how many paragraphs I can devote to homemade lobotomies. If only Jeffrey Dahmer wasn't beat to death by his bitch in prison...I could've asked him to help me write it.
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