The Sincerest Of Apologies For Having, For The Very First Time In Girls Are Pretty History, Dictated Your Personal Regression Assignment A Day Late Twice Within The Same Week, From Everyone Here At Girls Are Pretty:
Sorry, Dicks!
Sunday, June 29, 2003
Tell Your Dead Roommate's Most Recent Ex That He's Dead Day!
Your really kind of liked her too. Especially since she used to walk around the kitchen in the morning wearing boy's pajama pants and a long john top that flattered her breasts with a shape that would make the most aerodynamically genius of lingerie designers swoon with professional admiration. Plus, at last year's new year's party you caught her alone up against one of the pantry doors when she was looking for some olives, so you took her ass into one of your hands and the side of one of her breasts in the other and then tried to kiss her, which she of course didn't allow, but she never made a peep. She's way cool.
"Hey." You'll start off with that when you see her at the bar tonight. You'll have spotted her hanging on a guy with far more affection than you ever saw between her and Lee in the three months they spent together.
"Hey you!" She's going to say that back to you and then you too will kiss briefly and you'll read too much into it.
"How've you been?" She's been fine.
"How's Lee?" Lee's dead. So are his parents and older sister. They were all four of them, and two family friends, in a chartered plane flying over to a wedding on an island off the coast of Florida. Lee's Dad was worth a million or two, not a huge shitload, but he of course consorted with the type of folks who charter planes for the delivery of wedding guests to islands off the coast of Florida. Sometimes, even though rich people pay for them, chartered planes crash.
"Yeah, weird huh?" She agrees it's weird, but she won't say so. Best not to make her say anything.
"I thought about calling and telling you when it happened, but--" No you didn't.
"I understand. I mean...God. Lee. That's so sad."
"Yeah."
I have no idea what the two of you should do now. I mean, you should of course walk away from each other and maybe never see each other again if that's how it's all going to work out. But all you were supposed to do is tell her he's dead. Now, do whatever you can to go back to enjoying your evening. That will probably involve you going back to your table and telling everyone there about how you just had to tell that chick "about Lee, my roommate who died. She's his ex. They only went out for a couple months, but man. That was weird." And she will most likely return to her table and tell everyone there, "I just found out this guy I dated for a little while last year died in a plane crash." People at her table will say holy shit.
Happy Tell Your Dead Roommate's Most Recent Ex That He's Dead Day!
Saturday, June 28, 2003
Crochet Heroines Day!
You need to get the burglars to fall into the hole you dug in the yard so you can trap them there until the police arrive. Have your grandmother and her buds crochet an afghan that will cover up the hole. It doesn't have to blend in with the grass of the yard. It can be whatever your grandmother and her bitches want it to look like. Don't stifle them. If they want an afghan of green and orange zig-zags, or an afghan of deep blue and purple squares against a black frame, or if they want big holes or tiny holes, it's completely up your grandmother and her afghan crocheting hoes. When they're finished with the horribly ugly thing, tell them they all did a wonderful job but make sure you act like a retarded nine year old just came home from successfully buying a bottle of milk from the 7-11. Then spread the afghan over the mouth of the hole you dug and wait for the burglars to arrive.
Yours is the only house on the block that they haven't robbed yet. Everything's ready. You packed the wife and kids in the car, left the one light on in the living room that you've left on every night this week when you all left for the evening, knowing they were casing the place. Then you walked back from where you parked five blocks away and crept behind the hedge along with Dave and Marcus (Marcus is way too into the vigilante aspect of the whole thing. Dave just wants to get these guys in jail so he can raise his kids again).
Why would they walk onto the afghan if no effort was made to blend it in with the lawn? Because it's an afghan spread out on a backyard lawn. Would you rather look at it from off to the side and say out loud "The hell?" or would you rather step into the middle of it and look at the afghan splayed out around you and say out loud "The hell?"
Just you wait, your grandmother and her drunk-ass dykewad cronies are going to be Crochet Heroines!
Happy Crochet Heroines Day!
