written on Sunday, May. 18, 2003 at 3:36 a.m.
Remember how I wasn't excited about doing a scrapbook anymore?
I lied. Heh.
I bought a spiffy scrapbook at work. It's green silk stuff with an Asian picture on it, and the pages are black. I'm in love with it. Then I went to Walmart and bought stickers and rubber cement and other cool stuff.
Unfortunately within the first 2 pages I ensured that no upstanding members of society, such as parents or other non-friends can ever see it. I pasted in the Wak Pak. What is a Wak Pak, you ask? It's a hydro-masturbator for men. Basically a blow up thing with a hole in it. Galadriel got it for Boy for some reason, and it laid in a drawer for over a year until last night. Last night, we got it out, played with it, and Baby Papa broke it. {Not through it's intended usage. Pervs.} So, since it had no further use, I pasted it into the scrapbook. Heh. Along with it's photo insert that says "Watch yourself grow as you excitedly throb."
I finished that page with an empty condom wrapper. Only people down with cheap sex toys can ever see this book now.
But hey, that's me. I can put on a glossy exterior, age appropriate for the situation -- but really, only people down with cheap sex toys can appreciate me.
Oh, and we got a sticker maker. How cool izzat? Every stupid thing we see, we can now turn into a sticker. {If it's less than 1 1/2" wide, that is.} We have thus far done a Camel C-Note, the cover to Boy's cigarettes and a Starburst wrapper.
Okay, I'm done with the scrap book talk. Now it's time to bitch about work.
Three people called off today. THREE! Punky was one of them, but I forgive her because... well, I do it too. Besides, she was morning shift today anyway. And so was the second person to call off. So really only one affected me. ADHD. I wasn't supposed to have to run the desk, but ADHD called in and that left me to do it.
Probably just as well, though. We were so fucking busy I would've spent my entire night up there anyway.
Fortunately no customers made me raging mad. Except maybe the bitch that came in 1 minute before we were closing to make a big ass return and then was too freaking lazy to write the entire word "Unlisted" in the phone number blank. She just put "unl", so I had to finish writing it for her. I did, however, hold her reciept hostage until I was done doing so. I hope she was annoyed.
After that, ID Girl and I came back to the apartment where Boy & Punky were waiting for us, we looked at some pics on Rotten and then went out for dinner. A big plate of greasy, crappy food at midnight fixes any shitty day.
Love,
