If you refer back to an older post, this will make more sense. On the way to work this morning, I saw a Pepto-colored Nissan 280(?). There was a number in the upper corner of the windshield, so I would assume that it was once some sort of fleet vehicle, but what company, besides the one that makes Pepto, would have Pepto-colored cars? Maybe it was the second pink Horseman of the Apocalypse?I spent Saturday afternoon with my nephew and his mom. He was so happy to see me, which made me all gooshy. Throughout the day, he called me Carrie, Terri, or Harry. Since he was mostly right, I'll give it a pass. He fell asleep on me while watching Elmo. And since he's in the repeat everything phase, I got him to say "dude". Also, in the "Kids Say the Darnedest Things" category, his dad taught him this little trick. If you ask my nephew what's for dinner, he will promptly say "Beef!" Bloody hysterical. I told his dad I give him a case of beer if he could get his son to reply "Pork" when asked what the other white meat is.Once he was down for his nap, his mom and I got a chance to kick back and watch some Olympics. She promptly chastised me for not writing anything about the opening ceremonies. I told her that I didn't see the point because they were so snore-worthy. It would seem that I was supposed to write about the extreme level of boredom. Here goes: the opening ceremonies for the Winter Olympics was really really boring. In fact, it was so forgettable, that I can't even think of anything remotely snarky to say about it. I'm sure there was some traditional dancing/singing happening, and I know the commentators made shitty comments about some of the countries with smaller delegations. I don't think I would have had anything more to say if I had written about it the night it happened.My current bathroom book is God Hates You, Hate Him Back, by CJ Werleman. It's a point-by-point breakdown of the hypocrisy and general shittiness of the Bible. The guy is a reasonably entertaining writer, but I sometimes feel that he's being a little too, oh I don't know, too snarky, I guess. I'm not defending the Bible here, not at all, but I think it's better to make your point in a more scholarly manner. But that's not what I was going to talk about. I was going to mention the author's use of the word "grizzly". Mr Werleman, I do believe you meant "grisly", especially since you were talking about terrible and bloody acts. Unless you were talking about biblical bear attacks - which didn't seem to be the case. And this doesn't fall under the "callous/calloused" heading. "Grizzly", if you aren't talking about bears, means gray-flecked. Maybe Moses was pretty grizzled, but his acts weren't.
(Did you read the title in a British accent? No? Go back and try that. Pretty cool, huh? Hey, leave me alone. I'm coming off of a really long weekend.)Exciting news on the cheap gas and made-to-order sandwich front. There is now a gas-station Wawa around the corner from me on Bustleton. Which is fantastic because my car loooooves Wawa gas. And it can be right on my way to work. Until this Wawa opened, I had to go to either Grant (not convenient), or up to Trevose (only occasionally convenient). I made a stop this morning and promptly drove over the short median in the entrance/exit. Luckily for my ego, I saw someone else do exactly the same thing. I may be a doofus, but I'm not the only doofus.On a side note, I saw a Pepto-colored Neon this morning. Isn't that a sign of the Apocalypse? Lo, the cars shall become colors not naturally found in the world and the Almighty shall look down and be displeased. I mean really, who thinks that anything (other than Pepto) should be Pepto-colored? I wonder if it's the same person who told Dave & Buster's that Pepto pink would be a fantastic choice for the ladies' room?I realize that it has been an unusually long time since my last post. Part of the reason is because I'm trying my hand at short story writing. I even entered a contest! I haven't heard anything about being named a finalist or anything, but at least I tried, right? Of course, I'm now completely paranoid that I forgot to include my email, or typed it incorrectly when submitting my entry and the judges actually LOVE my story but can't get a hold of me. I even had a dream that they read my story on the air (NPR bitches!) and said "If you wrote this story, please call in and claim your prize." Then, after I woke up, I wondered just how I would prove that I did indeed write the story. It's not like I could supply a DNA sample or anything. And it's such a random little story. I don't think you could even compare it to other stuff I've written. Especially not the water torture story. That is NOT a sweet little slice of life. Oh, and before anyone gets all "Woohoo! A writer!" I haven't submitted anything to any sort of publication, or written more than an handful of stories.
