Who Wears Short Shorts
I don't have enough material for a long post, because, well, I don't get out of the house much. Here are a couple shorts I wrote over the last few days:
I was at King Soopers earlier tonight, and I thought I saw someone I recognized. You know when you see someone you haven't seen in a couple years, and you make eye contact with them for just a split second longer than you normally would, so you can make sure you actually recognize them? Yeah, I totally did that, and it turned out not being who I thought it was. She probably thought I was some crazy guy who was stalking her or something. I'm sorry, Girl at King Soopers.
A guy left three messages on our machine that were all two-minute-long audio recordings of him not knowing what an answering machine is. He kept saying "Hello?" as if someone had actually answered, even though all he'd heard from our end is my sister's voice telling him that this is the Reeds', and that we can't come to the phone, and that we're sorry about that. He just kept on plugging away, clearly assuming that we were playing some elaborate prank on him. Wherever this man is from, the answering machine has not yet been introduced in his local general store. AT&T, you'd better get on that.
I recently figured out that I'm generally a pretty negative person. OK, I'll be honest, I'm a cynic, through and through. Here's an example of how cynical I am. I was half asleep having a sort of quasi-lucid dream in which I was watching a movie. Unfortunately, I was seated behind a seven-foot-tall woman in the theater, and I couldn't change seats. Talk about an inferiority complex...
My laptop thinks I'm hispanic. Every time I hook my iBook up to the internet, it takes me to my hompage, msn.com. Unfortunately, it redirects me to latino.msn.com every time. I don't know what I did to make my computer think I'm latino, but it's really starting to piss me off. What if I wanted to get the daily news? I took two years of Spanish early in high school, but I don't remember a thing from it. I'd be cut off from the world if I didn't have the ol' family pc to use. Stupid msn latino.
I was at King Soopers earlier tonight, and I thought I saw someone I recognized. You know when you see someone you haven't seen in a couple years, and you make eye contact with them for just a split second longer than you normally would, so you can make sure you actually recognize them? Yeah, I totally did that, and it turned out not being who I thought it was. She probably thought I was some crazy guy who was stalking her or something. I'm sorry, Girl at King Soopers.
A guy left three messages on our machine that were all two-minute-long audio recordings of him not knowing what an answering machine is. He kept saying "Hello?" as if someone had actually answered, even though all he'd heard from our end is my sister's voice telling him that this is the Reeds', and that we can't come to the phone, and that we're sorry about that. He just kept on plugging away, clearly assuming that we were playing some elaborate prank on him. Wherever this man is from, the answering machine has not yet been introduced in his local general store. AT&T, you'd better get on that.
I recently figured out that I'm generally a pretty negative person. OK, I'll be honest, I'm a cynic, through and through. Here's an example of how cynical I am. I was half asleep having a sort of quasi-lucid dream in which I was watching a movie. Unfortunately, I was seated behind a seven-foot-tall woman in the theater, and I couldn't change seats. Talk about an inferiority complex...
My laptop thinks I'm hispanic. Every time I hook my iBook up to the internet, it takes me to my hompage, msn.com. Unfortunately, it redirects me to latino.msn.com every time. I don't know what I did to make my computer think I'm latino, but it's really starting to piss me off. What if I wanted to get the daily news? I took two years of Spanish early in high school, but I don't remember a thing from it. I'd be cut off from the world if I didn't have the ol' family pc to use. Stupid msn latino.
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