It's Possible That I Completely Forgot About This Blog...

But that's not what happened. I just didn't really have anything worth writing about. Well, there was that trip to Vegas... but I don't really seem to remember most of the funniest stuff I saw and heard on that trip. Except, of course, for the diner we ate at in Moab, Utah. It was called Eddie McStiff's. Such a family-friendly name. Our waiter was family-friendly, too. And, of course, by "family-friendly," I mean "a flaming homosexual." He sounded exactly like Kip from "Napoleon Dynamite," only without the charm. Everything we ordered was "sssuper sssweet." I almost kicked him in his ovaries. The food wasn't bad, but it wasn't really good, either. As we were leaving, Chris noticed a six pack of beer in the cooler just inside the door. Keep in mind that we were in Utah. The name of the beer was "Polygamy Porter," and their slogan was, "You can't have just one!" Self-deprecating Mormons. Who knew they existed? So then we went on to Vegas and blah, blah, blah, and then we got home. Oh, and I did actually win a little. That was cool. New York New York is down to me by about 6 bucks. Eat it.

So anyway, I went out to dinner with the fam tonight. We ate at Pei Wei. In case some of you don't know the procedure, it's basically really expensive and delicious fast food. You order first, and then you pick a table to sit at. Well, the line to talk to the stupid register guy is shoved way to the side of the room, so no one has a whole lot of space in which they can maneuver. We're all standing there like pigs waiting to be slaughtered when all of a sudden, some obese Pei Wei employee comes barging through like she's real people or something, and she's screaming "Excuse me!" in a not-so-polite manner. This, as I'm sure you've already deduced, pisses me off to no end. She does it three more times as we're standing in line (apparently, the stupid register guy is slower than I'd given him credit for). After one time, I loudly remarked at her rude behavior. After the last time, I leaned over to my dad and said, "We wouldn't have to excuse her if she wasn't so fat," hoping, at least in part, that she'd heard me. My dad seemed surprised. He said, "Andrew, one of these days, you're going to say something like that to the wrong person, and they're going to beat the crap out of you." I laughed. And then I punched a retarded baby.