the anna kournikova of geriatric tennis
yeah so remember my zit diagnosis from yesterday? yeah, well, i think this dermatological malformation deserves its own zipcode. when i woke up this morning, the swelling underneath the epicenter had increased its diameter by 300%. that's right. three times its size. i wish i was kidding. but it's no zit, my fritters, in fact, i would even wager to say it's a BOIL. i have a boil on my forehead. highly irregular. it's either that or a spiderbite. maybe i should put up a counter as to when all the little baby spiders will come gooshing out of my brain area...in the meantime, the red mountain (as i have now fondly named it) keeps me grounded.
i will not throw a hissy fit when someone edits my writing. i will not throw a hissy fit when someone edits my writing. i will not throw a hissy fit when someone edits my writing. well, it's the thought that counts. though the fit has been thrown.
the recession of the tantrum
my coworker is sending in questions to the washington post interactive chat about what is appropriate to wear in the workplace. he's using our names so as to seem like more than one person.
questions thus far submitted:
1. is it ok to wear lumberjack shirts in the workplace?
2. my girlfriend and i have this argument all the time. do i need to wash my hair every single day?
3. how can i tastefully dress to account for my big delicious booooooooty? i used 8 o's because it's that big.
guess which one was sent with my name backwards. just guess.
some junk in the trunk
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2 comments:
Thanks so much for the add! Your blog absolutely rocks. Geezer tennis...reminds me of my Cleveland days at the local gym where old Russian guys would sit in the jacuzzi and watch women do water aerobics, and they'd try to pretend that they weren't when they sensed someone was watching them.
i think if there was a perfume that bottled up an old man, i would buy it. and thanks =)
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