Oh My Gawd Sodagirl!

Archive for February, 2007

February 24, 2007

I’m bored.

I really, really should be doing laundry right now. You know what though? My laundry isn’t going anywhere, so I say, to hell with it. Except, that I do need my laundry because it’s basically my clothes and I’m not going out in public naked. At least not today.

Did I tell you that my neighbours still have their Christmas tree up? Yup, they do. I don’t think it’s so much the old man that is in charge of the tree, I believe it’s the old battleaxe wife that is so weird that she can’t tell if it’s December or if I’ve punched her in her ugly someone’s shat on my face kinda face or that it’s actually February. I think they still have their Halloween lights up too. Freaks.

I’m going to another hockey game tonight. Isn’t that just the shiznat? Amazing really because this is only my second time. Remember I was a hockey virgin just last month? Well I’m reminding you. Geez, you have a short memory. Have you been drinking? You should lean towards the example I set, and that is being sloshed 24/7 a model person who never does anything that would make anyone’s eyebrows go up in shock. I’m all innocent like that. Near perfect really. It’s kind of embarrassing. Oh well. Such is life.

Oh ya, I forgot to tell you about my wrong number. They follow me like flies to shit. Ah. Hmm. Anyway, goes like this:

Hello?

Hi, is Mrs. Begoenogowiulknlngsslijtoy there? (People never get my last name right. And it really sounds like it looks) (Ah that’s not my real last name. It aint’ that fucking weird.)

Ah ya, sure, close enough.

I’m wondering if you would prefer a new phone, 2 extras for 2 months for free or 5% off of your bill for 5 months?

What? Who is this?

Oh I’m calling from *insert stupid phone company name here*.

Well I’m quite happy with the company we’re with now. Thanks anyway.

I’m thinking, that my last sentence pretty much signals the end of our stimulating conversation but alas it does not.

If you could just tell me which ‘free’ option you’d like, then I can get you started.

Get me started on what? Unless you’re offering me a free trip to Africa, $10,000 in cash, a new car and a hot massage, I’m not biting.

Excuse me? Ah, well, I, ah, well we can give you a free phone. *Insert asinine fucking retarded fake laugh here*

I have 2 phones that I’m happy with, we get along very well.

Well you could get the 2 extras such as call waiting and call forwarding, and they’d be free for 2 months! Two months!

Wow! Fantastic. But I get SIX free features with my current phone service provider. All. The. Time.

You could save 5% off of your total bill for 5 months!!!!!!!!

Wow!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No.

Can I just…….

Listen, I know it’s your job to call me and mispronounce my name even though it’s quite simple to pronounce (my daughter could spell it for shits sake at age 2) and I know you’re all excited when you tell me about your ‘free stuff’ but I’m telling you, I’m not switching. Never. Ever.

But you can even keep your same phone number!

Super. I’m still not switching. You have yourself a nice day now. See ya. And by see ya, I mean I’m going to get out my voodoo doll and stick needles in it, pretending it’s you. What’s your name again?

Are you sure……….

I hung up. Geez. Like I have things to do mister annoying telephony man. I have M&M’s to look after. I have hair to flat iron. I have booze that requires my attention church functions to attend. Sigh. It’s hard being me.

Okay, time to get in the shower. It’s like 1pm-ish and here I’ve sat for most of the day. I did clean earlier and feed my kids so it’s not like I did nothing. Close to it but not quite. Ya’ll (don’t I sound cute when I say that? No? Well then.) have a super friggin’ Saturday.

Posted by Sassy @ 3:24 pmCrappy Neighbors,I want to Punch You in the Neck,Just Stuff.,Ring-a-ding..wrong number AGAIN6 comments  

February 23, 2007

Just stuff.

It’s Friday incase you didn’t know. I had to go to the bank this morning and it was really quite uneventful. *Crickets* Soooo, how ’bout that weather?

I was reading some stuff today (that’s why I decided to call this post ‘just stuff’, because it’s going to be a big jumble of shit all over the place ramblings) and there was a story about a woman who swallowed her lovers false teeth. Apparently they were trying out a ‘special type of passionate kiss’. Like kissing is kissing for the most part unless you’re into sucking the gums/teeth (literally) out of your partner’s mouth and then swallowing them and then shitting them out. Yes, she shit them out later on. You know, I’m just going to stick with the boring ole’ French kissing stuff, you know touching tongues etc etc. Call me old fashioned.

Oh, guess what? A beaver was spotted in the Bronx River recently. Apparently they haven’t seen a beaver in those parts for like 200 years. Huh. I’ll show you a beaver. *Wink*

Some postal dude in Mexico was caught with 10 tonnes of mail in his house. Ah. Okay. Gosh I love people.

I’m listening to the song ‘Nasty Girls’ from back in the day. Nice lyrics. ‘I guess I’m just use to sailors, I think they got water on the brain, I think they got more water upstairs than they got sugar on their candycane’. Damn that’s deep.

Hey I flat ironed my hair today AND I did it in less than an hour. That’s a miracle. If you saw and/or felt how much hair I have and how thick it is, you’d be cheering for me right now and possibly awarding me with a medal or trophy of some sort (or sending cash. I’ll post my address later). I’m quite pleased with myself. Now I just need some place to go to show it off. Like who’s going to see my fine lookin’ hair if I sit here on my ass all day? Maybe I’ll go to the grocery store and hopefully some old coot will hit on me again today. That’d be fun. I love being visually assaulted by someone with cataracts and 8 inch coke bottle lenses. That’s just how freaky I am. That’s hot. Hot like a nasty ass rash

My daughter has a half day at school today so that means I have to entertain her all afternoon. She’s a hard one to entertain sometimes. There will be no quiet for the rest of the day. That child talks like there’s no tomorrow or the next day or the next day. I wonder what kind of drama she’ll tell me about today? I’ll let you know when I know.

Oh gosh, did you hear about the loser that called 911 because he couldn’t get into some club? Like, what the fuck? Here’s what happened. Well, now my version might be slightly different than the actual voice footage released by the 911 operator. But what the hell, here’s my take on it.

911: What’s your emergency?

Douchebag: They will not let me in! Help!

911: Who won’t let you in where sir?

Douchebag: They won’t. I can’t get in. I wanna get in you know?

911: Sir, tell me what the emergency is. Are you hurt?

Douchebag: Damn straight I’m hurt sista! I want in and they won’t let me in. I got all gussied up and am lookin’ mighty hot if I do say so myself. So I want you to order them to let me in!

911: Who sir?

Douchebag: The club owners. The bouncers. Or doormen, whatever you call them.

911: The club owners sir?

Douchebag: Yes! I wanted to go dancing tonight, I have my little ‘bojangles’ type shoes on, all set to get my freak on and boogy down and these asswipes said I can’t get in. I want to get my freakin’ freak on, get it freak?

911: Sir, this is not an emergency. Any establishment has the right to refuse you sir. I’m sorry but this is not a legitimate call.

Douchebag: That’s what you think! I got out my purple shiney shirt with the ruffles and my black pleather pants and my pointy shoes and dammit, I want in. I looook gooood. Soooo good.

911: Sir, I’ll have officers there right away. They’ll take care of it. (and by take care of it, she means, they’re going to kick him in the face and make him eat the ruffles on his shiney shirt)

Douchebag: Thank you. I knew I would have the law on my side.

I guess he was arrested for drug possession (ya think?) and unlawfully calling 911. There truly are some wonderful human beings out there.

Okay, peace out. Time to pick up Miss Chatterbox and then maybe we’ll go to Subway so the ‘sandwich artists’ can oogle over my drunkeness hair.

Posted by Sassy @ 1:30 pmI want to Punch You in the Neck,Nonsense4 comments  






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