Thursday, February 14, 2008

I kicked her because the bitch stole my taco

I had a strange day.
And that's that.
I have weird relationships with most people I know, esspecially men. I think that's the safest thing I've ever wrote on this journal.

It's Valentines Day. Although I feel its my duty as a single person to be angry and all up in your face about how lame this day is, I'm not going to. I'm not going to because I have this day completely under control. You may be asking yourself 'how? that sounds completely impossible. I know Angie, she's crazy....sometimes she's the funny crazy, but mosrt days its just weird and unnerving, there's just no effing way"
Well my friends you are wrong. Becaue today was pretty kick ass day. And here are some of the highlights
A) I kick ass.
B.) I made a lot of cakes for other people's valentines, and I just wasn't in the mood for cake. They produce a lot of crumbs, and that's just a big commitment to eat something like that.
C.) Dave fixed my finger while I was working, and then he asked me out on a date....he's gonna pay. I love free food.
D.) Talked to my California lover. He's pretty and makes me smile like a fool on drugs.
E.) I like the color red.

So obviously this day was aweseom. The only sorta bad thing was my accidental exposure. As I was leaving the bakery, Dave stopped me to tell me something...something about the bread tomorrow...I dont know. As I he has talked I took off my horrible ugly white work shirt that reminds me I work for the man and the tank top I was wearing underneath had sliped down....and then he saw the girls. They were shining in all their valentine glory. Usually I'm not scared of people seeing them, but for some reason the moment caught me off guard and I wanted to fall the floor and curl up in the fetal position. The one where your nipples are completely covered. And so now Dave wants me to be the mother of his children....people love to get a nipple peek. Hell I even like it. It reminds you of the simple things in life.

Hey...lets fold scarves!

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