Why sometimes it pays to wear plastic clothes. Or, FOR ME TO POOP ON!!
I just met Melissa and Suzi for lunch. We ended up going to a place I'd heard good things about, C. F. Folks. Big, yummy sandwiches for a decent price, run by jovial wisecracking older white guys. It has my affection for that, AND for the sweeet country tunes (Dolly Parton and Randy Travis, among others) that were playing quietly in the background.
We grabbed a table just outside the awning (it's about 55-60 here today, so why not take advantage?) and proceeded to chow down. About 1/2 way through, chatting away, I noticed I had received a dookie from a bird lounging in the tree overhead. 1. Yay!! That's good luck, and I will take all of that that I can get my hands on. 2. It was on my sleeve only, so no biggie and 3. I have on my tres chic plastic raincoat that I bought at CostCo, so that shit (literally) JUST WIPED RIGHT OFF.
See? Already the good luck is working! *And* I managed to get back to my office just before the gargantuan black rain cloud overhead burst forth. Maybe I should go buy some lottery tickets?
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
"I'm not mad, I'm just sayin'."
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