02 February 2007

get off my property, you bastard

ahh. job # only. it's that time of the week where i pretend to be among the ranks of the employed. except this week i'm pretending to be employed for two days instead of my usual one so this is extra taxing on the janel. (i love talking about myself in the third person.)

i'm already tired. i was up at the ass crack of the ass crack of pre-dawn this morning. it was fucking early, kiddos. there was a full moon - it was beautiful, reflecting off the clouds and the snow, it almost seemed like daylight, only darker. i was so tired i stopped and slept for half an hour behind the country kitchen in newton. i just couldn't keep my eyes awake. and i woke up starving for pancakes. the janel is always hungry for pancakes. always.

i'm in the midst of a heated debate: are goldfish really supposed to eat oranges? they certainly like them. the research i have conducted leads me to believe that goldfish will eat just about anything that's placed in their tank, including bananas and peas and shrimpies. weird, huh? who knew goldfish were cannibalistic?

so right now, its going on 1730 and there are people here trying to buy a car. at 1730. that's closing time, dickheads. i have places to be. compound that with the fact that i've missed my 1600 feeding time and i'm none to happy to be working at this moment. grrr... i'm supposed to be on my way to the dutch village for mexican and margaritas (well, i may be the only one drinking margaritas, i'm not sure) with the fam. good times are to be had by all. or at least by me. i'm going to have the one that's as big as my head. with two straws. mango if they have it. yum. bring on the salsa, bitches. i wonder how you say that in espanola.

no, not really. i really don't care. i'm just hungry. hurry this shit up.

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