zuzu's petals
i sure hope silly voices, crazy dances, and overall goofiness counts for alot with my kids in the long run. i think it might, which makes me think maybe there is hope for me as a dad after all.
just typing that simple, stupid line has gotten me a little choked up. have i always been this easily influenced emotionally? let's see, charlotte's web made me cry. every year. three times, once when charlotte dies, once when the baby spiders leave, and once when the smallest baby spiders stay behind with wilbur. yep, guess i have always been an emotional wreck.
a word on pizzas: or shall i call this the world of pizzas according to darth? six of one, i guess. anyways, the outfit for which i work offers a line of "pizzas" with spinach alfredo sauce instead of the normal marinara. that is not a pizza. adding chicken and tomatoes to it only enhances the travesty. you really wanna fuck the whole thing up, i'll take the finished pizza out to the parking lot and back my car over it. it honestly couldn't get much worse. a salad is a salad. a pizza is a pizza. ne'er the twain shall meet.
and if you're calling a pizza place and thinking, "you know what would really hit the spot right now? some spinach alfredo." get up off your ass and drag yourself to olive garden, for fuck's sake.
and we also have an option for no cheese. no cheese. that's right, no fucking cheese!! if you ask for a no-cheese pizza, the option should automatically kick up a note so that the burliest delivery driver brings you your pizza and a wallop to the head. order fucking breadsticks. then buy olives or whatever dumb topping you want, add it to the breadsticks, and the breadsticks come with marinara dipping sauce. jesus christ. and it's cheaper to do it that way.
and yes, i have delivered a small one-topping pizza to someone living three blocks from the store. yes, they did tip me. well, as a matter of fact. just further proof we'll take convenience over any thing else any day.
i have also delivered pizzas to hookers and their johns. but that is probably a story for another day, beloved reader.
the car that i drive when delivering has been in the shop for a few days. i never realized how much i love driving a stick until i drove the other car for a few. nothing like zipping through the gears, feeling that instant response. also makes me feel more connected to the car, the road. more alert. yep, i love a clutch. not that you cared. but it makes me wonder about these kids these days who all learn on automatics. do they know what they are missing?
in a related story, my tattoo fund is again depleted. anyone wanting to make charitable donations should make checks payable to...
ha ha ha, i fucking crack meself up.
ty for sticking through it with me.
darth sardonic
just typing that simple, stupid line has gotten me a little choked up. have i always been this easily influenced emotionally? let's see, charlotte's web made me cry. every year. three times, once when charlotte dies, once when the baby spiders leave, and once when the smallest baby spiders stay behind with wilbur. yep, guess i have always been an emotional wreck.
a word on pizzas: or shall i call this the world of pizzas according to darth? six of one, i guess. anyways, the outfit for which i work offers a line of "pizzas" with spinach alfredo sauce instead of the normal marinara. that is not a pizza. adding chicken and tomatoes to it only enhances the travesty. you really wanna fuck the whole thing up, i'll take the finished pizza out to the parking lot and back my car over it. it honestly couldn't get much worse. a salad is a salad. a pizza is a pizza. ne'er the twain shall meet.
and if you're calling a pizza place and thinking, "you know what would really hit the spot right now? some spinach alfredo." get up off your ass and drag yourself to olive garden, for fuck's sake.
and we also have an option for no cheese. no cheese. that's right, no fucking cheese!! if you ask for a no-cheese pizza, the option should automatically kick up a note so that the burliest delivery driver brings you your pizza and a wallop to the head. order fucking breadsticks. then buy olives or whatever dumb topping you want, add it to the breadsticks, and the breadsticks come with marinara dipping sauce. jesus christ. and it's cheaper to do it that way.
and yes, i have delivered a small one-topping pizza to someone living three blocks from the store. yes, they did tip me. well, as a matter of fact. just further proof we'll take convenience over any thing else any day.
i have also delivered pizzas to hookers and their johns. but that is probably a story for another day, beloved reader.
the car that i drive when delivering has been in the shop for a few days. i never realized how much i love driving a stick until i drove the other car for a few. nothing like zipping through the gears, feeling that instant response. also makes me feel more connected to the car, the road. more alert. yep, i love a clutch. not that you cared. but it makes me wonder about these kids these days who all learn on automatics. do they know what they are missing?
in a related story, my tattoo fund is again depleted. anyone wanting to make charitable donations should make checks payable to...
ha ha ha, i fucking crack meself up.
ty for sticking through it with me.
darth sardonic
posted by darth sardonic at 8:34 AM
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