Archive for July, 2010

I totally need to start doing this to people.

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The Musical.

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In the past, I have worked in crappy customer service jobs ringing up purchases. And like most people who get to spend all day ringing people up, I got very bored. I used to entertain myself by examining the items that folks would buy, and try to figure out what was going on in their lives.

For instance, if a customer was buying hot dogs, buns, condiments and charcoal, I would think to myself, “That lady is going to have a barbecue.” If they were buying ice cream, candy, and diet soda I might think, “Who the hell does that guy think he’s fooling?” And if they were purchasing duct tape, plastic sheeting, a hacksaw and lye, I would think, “I should assure this gentleman that my memory is terrible, and that I have already forgotten ever seeing him. And then run away.”

Because of this I always assume that the people that ring me up are doing the same thing. Which has, on occasion, made me feel bizarrely self-conscious about the things that I am buying.

Just the other day I found myself in need of a trip to the store. I only needed a few things, and here’s how it went for me.

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Finally a way to redeem the Twilight series.

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This looks like it will be the single most bad-ass thing that has come out of France since the Allied forces crossed the Siegfried Line on their way to teach Hitler a lesson about sharing.
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The results are in, ambulance and my decision has been reached.

The two runners up are:
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Sadly it looks like the guy who made this will get fired from Best Buy for it.
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Just forwarding a message that was sent in to me.

Hey Skippy,

You may know someone who may know someone who could help (Dave in NC comes to mind as someone who might be closer than me).

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I have not ever worked as a model. I have never worked with a model other than in a life drawing class.

I have not in the past, nor am I currently, nor am I likely to ever be in any way affiliated with either the modeling industry nor any affiliated businesses such as fashion of glamor magazines.

The closest I have ever come to an interest in these subjects is enjoying a few reruns of Just Shoot Me, and once being forced to watch The Devil Wears Prada.

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