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2002-10-25 : 4:48 p.m.
how to resolve an irish potato famine
Listening to: Less Than Jake, Pezcore (the new remastered version)
Good Lord!! So I'm sitting here at my desk... at work of course... munching on my lunch... (a Wendy's chilli and small order of fries)... mind you, this has been my meal every day for the past week. i don't know what the hell is wrong with me... I think I'm going to turn into a kidney bean- from eating so much of this shit... And if it weren't for the fact that my sex life has been as dry as a desert for the past month or so... I would be worried with such an odd and persistent craving... but in any case... this is the "good Lord!" portion: I'm sittin' here eatin' my shite... right? When I decide to stuff my face with... ooohh, let's say a pipe-load of fries... because i have this knack of inhaling food like a monkey on his first banana (double entendre intended). and out of no-where... (no itch... no funny feelings... no, "uh-oh here it comes"... nothing...) I sneeze- after about my thrid chew into this wad of potato no less... and I shit you not... ground nasty potato goes flying everywhere... I just fucking froze... and my best bud (and boss), at work... who is Irish and unfortunately sits directly across from me... In her heavy, irish, "lucky charms" kind of accent, says: "Well Jesus! Where were you during the potato famine!" and wipes a bit of potato off her blouse... And the whole office busts out in a whale of laughter... (I included...) just fucking classic... I actually came on to write about something else, but this happened... so being that my cleaning services are currently needed... I will leave you dear diary, and chit chat a bit later... wipe... wipe... (ooohhh sorry...) wipe... wipe...
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