Them: “He’s going back to cab driving? How awful!”
Me: “No, it’s not, really. It’s more money. The schedule is flexible. He hated having a desk job.”
Them: “I hope he doesn’t get hurt!”
Me: “Yes, those alcoholic little old ladies on beer runs can get pretty fiesty.”
Them: “You just need to learn to work with a budget.”
Me: “According to the labor board, a living wage in Washington state is $16 an hour. For one person. And he wasn’t even making that! We were starving! You can’t budget what you don’t have.”
Them: “Too bad he couldn’t stick with a real job.”
Me: “Bend over. I will try to be gentle as I insert my foot into your rectum. I have to warn you though: I will not stop until I reach the base of your skull.”
In Other News
Miss Frannie’s Greatest Hits:
1. “You a poo poo man!”
2. “Don’t look at me, Mom!”
3. “You have poop!”
4. “I hate this (soup, chicken, eggs, etc.)! I need some bread!” The girl would live. On. Bread.
5. “You are eating poop!”
6. “Don’t talk to me, Mom!”
7. “I take my droopy off and I poop on you!”
8. “Satan is my motor! Satan is my motor! Satan is my motor!” (x100) I made the mistake of playing a Cake record the other day. I am such a foolish mortal.
9. “I NOT take a nap! I NOT TAKE A NAP! I-NOT-TAKE-THE-NAP!”” Repeat incessantly from noon until naptime.
10. “Poop! POOP! POOOOOP!” Followed by hysterical laughter.
sigh…
Finally, I found someone who says poop more than me.
Hi Manuel!
desk jobs are only worthwhile if you get paid enough to assuage with material goods the crushing feeling that you have traded your soul to a corporation.
and it was nice of you to warn them about the impending insertion of your foot.
Seems she’s really got something about poop.
And I hate it when people are snobby about what counts as a real job. If you’re paid for it, then it’s a job. Even if you’re not paid for it, it can be a job. And as long as people need taxis, there’s no way that taxi driving fails to be a job. Hooray for taxi drivers! :-)
Ho, ho. Word, Jimbo!
And I think it’s a real job, too.
why do little kids love poop and hate naps? They can be falling asleep face down in their applesauce at lunch and still scream about taking a nap. I’m sure glad we all out grow that. I love naps now. I could nap all day! And yeah… I no longer love poop.
I love poop. Get me a fork – mmmm, mmm. Um, no, I wouldn’t eat a whole one, but I do so love to talk about it.
AND Naps are awful. You miss all the good things and wake up all confusey.
I’m with Miss Fennypants on this one. Truly she is a wise one.
hmmm…. i think it’s just a monkey’s nature to like poop. Go to a zoo and watch the monkeys, they have quite a good time with their poop. So maybe Monkey is a monkey! :-)
I can vouch for that!
I’m also with Fenny. I hate naps.
Of course you could always run an experiment and deprive her of sleep. Then see if she wants to sleep of her own accord?
Actually, I’m sure you know what you are doing.
In my family no one was ever required to sleep. I remember coming home at 3 a.m. to see my baby brother sprawled in front of the TV sucking on his bottle. He was sitting on top of my unconscious parents.
Come to think of it we are all horrifying insomniacs. Make that girl nap!
On another note–that idea that people who have no money fail to budget is just POOP! And desk jobs. Poop on them! They are utter poop.
My newly potty trained two-year-old tells me, and everyone in the household, whether she has made, “Poops or peeps.” She also tells you she doesn’t like you if you tell her to stop doing something or tell her to take a nap. “NO NAP!! NO NAP!!”
oh what i wouldn’t give for a nap and a poop. in any order!
Nap and poop. Sounds like Fox’s next reality series.
I don’t know if I’m trying to be clever or what, here. Erghmn. Yeah.
Once-upon-a-time conversation between Josh and this girl he dumped about five years ago–
Josh: Okay, two things. One, I’m breaking up with you. Two, you need to quit your job as soon as possible.
Ex: You’re what?
Josh: Nevermind that. Let’s talk about your job. It’s making you miserable. You have terrible mood swings because you never get any exercise, so your blood sugar’s all out of whack. And you clearly loathe you co-workers. It’s time to move on.
Ex: Okay, but, um, hold on–
Josh: So here’s my thought. You’re always talking about how much you liked waiting tables in Chicago. You made better money with tips. You liked the hours. You like workign with people. Why don’t you go back to that? You only make eleven bucks an hour at your desk job. You’d make twice that waiting tables, easy.
Ex: Well, uh, what about like retirement and–
Josh: Does your current job have a retirement plan? No! Look, I feel your concerns here. Really I do. Restaurant work can seem like a case of arrested development. But let’s look at the numbers, huh? Waiting tables pays way more! And what’s your desk job going to get you? There’s no room for advancement at that place. You’re not going to make a carreer out of it. So fuck it!
Ex: Okay. You know what, you’re right! You’re totally right! I’m gonna start applying for wait staff jobs tomorrow.
Josh: Excellent. I’ll just take my socks and go. Here’s your key. Thanks for everything.
Ex: But–
Josh: Good luck. I know this is the right thing for you.
And scene.
Last time I saw her she’d lost twenty pounds and dyed her hair blue. As far as I know she was much happier. Unfortunately she chose to pitch that to me as: “I’m doing much better now.” Naturally I ran screaming. God knows if it was true.
beautiiful blog merciiiiii
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