Better watch out or the INSECTS WILL GET YOU!

One of my favorite lunch joints is the Great Outdoors sandwich shop. It's one of those delis where they cut the meat right in front of you, and they have about 8 million toppings to choose from...it's an all around class act. But, when you commit to the Great Outdoors, you have to be ready to wait for your love, especially if you hit the drive thru lane. A typical drive thru lane time is 10 minutes, although its been known to take upwards of 30. Today was one of those long wait days, but I wasn't too stressed out about it. It's gorgeous outside, I have an hour to acquire then accomplish lunch, so I had no worries. So, I'm just hanging out, listening to the radio, being lazy. Then, just out of curiosity, I look towards the restaurant's window, and out of the corner of my eye, I see this big-ass wolf spider, crawling along the door of the car...WTF, man!? BIG. FUCKING. SPIDER. It was so big, I could see his face and all his creepy spider leg joints. I squealed like a little girl, then flicked him off the door with my debit card. Then, I noticed that the spider had not only been meandering along the car door, he had started spinning a damn web from the top of the car, down to the door lock area...I had been waiting for my samich that long. When the cashier slid the window open to get my money, I told her about the spider, and she said "well, that spider is still on your door", she pointed down, and when I looked over the edge of the door, there he was! The resilient little fucker was still there! Damn! I flicked his ass off again, threw some cash at the lady, grabbed my samich and split Spider Town with a quickness. Moral of the story, I like sandwiches, but I don't like big spiders.

The Old F-You

So, I got home from work Weds., and noticed a rather suspicious smell. Smelled like turds, to be more exact. It took me a while to find said turds, but I did. Here's what I think happened:

I brought my pal T-Bone's cat Lucy home, cause T-Bone was out of town. This caused my 2 cats much, much distress. My big cat was actually okay with her, but my little cat was freaking her shit out. I'm talking hissing, spitting, tail all puffed out rage. She actually flew across the room and jumped poor Lucy. I felt so bad. Poor Lucy was just trying to hang out, you know? And here comes pyscho-cat, jumping all up in her grill, breathin' up all her air. I kept Lucy in my bedroom for the next 2 days, to see if my cats chilled out, and they really never did, so I took Lucy back to her house Tuesday night.

Fast-forward to Weds. evening. My big cat likes to express his displeasure in meaningful, fragrant ways. Normally, he just yaks all over the carpet, but he'll drop a deuce for special occasions. So, I'm certain that the steaming logs in my closet were just his way of saying "fuck you, Mom...fuck you for bringing that other cat home...what the fuck were you thinking?"

You have to admire that kind of moxie. I mean, if I had any balls at all, that's what I would do when people piss me off. I can think of at least one person who should have a chilli-fueled messy dump waiting for her right now...yeah...that would be sweet. Maybe I'll get chilli for lunch.

Good news, everyone...Grandy's caters!

So, I'm driving to my favorite samich store, the Great Outdoors, and I sees this big ole sign, advertising Grandy's catering service. Now, is that something we really need? Methinks not. I'm not exactly a food-snob here, I just can't believe that joint is still in business. What do they even serve there? I have vague memories of soggy, brown green beans and chicken fried meat-stuffs. If I'm going to be eating "home cookin'", I sure as hell ain't gonna get it from Grandy's. That's why God invented Luby's, afterall. Seriously...Grandy's? (shakes head). I just can't believe a place that was such a consistant dinning disappointment can stil be in business. On the other hand, Long John Silver's is still stinking-up the joint, so I guess there's room for all shades of quality in the fastfood spectrum.

In in like Flynn

Well, it's official like a referree with a whistle, I am going to grad school. Booyah, mother fuckers! Now I just have to figure out how to pay for it...anyone want to buy me some grad school? I'll be your best friend...

Super-Square, coming through!

Well, it's official: I, Blogda, am a super-square. I'm applying to MBA programs. There, I said it. I'm applying to MBA programs, and I'm gonna be a business man when I grow up. So there.

Yeah, I know I have a painting degree, I know I'm an Art Director, I know I said I'd never be a sell-out business man, but here I am. I like being a Strategist. I like that the client asks for my opinion before anyone else. I like being heard. It's so satisfying. All in all, the Strategy field is BOSS. Seriously, this is the sweetest job I have ever had, and this strategy junk makes total sense to me, so I'm figuring, why fight it? This situation is rad, and it must continue to flourish. I must climb even higher up the Strategy Dept. ladder! The only buzz-kill in this plan is that I'm a wee bit lacking in the formal credentials area...hence, the need for the grad schoolin'.

Sure, I'm gonna have to take classes like "Finance", and "Statistics", but I ain't sweating that shit. I'm so bad, I kick my own ass twice a day, I can handle that shit. Scratch that, I'm gonna tear that shit up. Finance is gonna be my bitch. Statistics is gonna lick my boots, it's a certifiable fact, you dig? So, sleep better tonight knowing that Blogda is on her way to being a super-square business man, the type of rock star business man that makes the others in the room pee themselves a little bit. Well shit, they kind of do that anyway.

So...no day-job, huh?

I was out running errands during lunch this afternoon, and I noticed that there were about 8 million people in the 24 Fitness center near the Target I frequent. This intrigued me. Now, bear in mind, I took a late lunch today because I thought I had a lunch meeting (turns out, I didn't) so it was like 1:30 when I noticed all the workers-outters. Seeing all those people through the gym windows got me thinking, these folks must not have day jobs, otherwise, they are taking 2 hour lunches or some shit like that. Which is irresponsible, unless I'm the one doing it, then it's progressive. So, anyway, I kept seeing these massive dudes with gallon jugs full of lord knows what (one of them was opaque light blue, which lead me to believe that he was guzzling Smurf cum), strutting from the gym and into their cars. Freaking huge dudes...dudes so big they couldn't put their arms down to their sides because their freakishly huge lats are in the way. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but that is not your typical 30 minute "run to the gym" guy, right? This is a guy who has a 3 hour plan to blast his quads every other day...so how is this dude possibly going to have a day-job? I think they're all deadbeats on the dole, that's what I think. Stupid muscly jerks...eating up all those sweet, sweet unemployment dollars I'll need when I get canned...assholes. I bet they could bench my car though.

My Niece is so Damn Cute

It's a fact. And my brother likes-a-the-fish.