I’m not really in a bad mood but I’m practicing being THEATRIC because my new dream job in life is to be an extra on BOSTON PUBLIC.
I’ve spent all day sucking the life out of mentholyptus halls cough drops but my sore throat isn’t soothed, my nasal passages aren’t
cooled, and my cough is NOT fought. Advanced vapor action my eye.
Miss MD – a regular true crime loving paranoid customer who has the unique talent of matching her hair color to her neon brassy pink
lipstick – informed me that my cold is probably being caused by something TERRORISTS are doing to the AIR.
I should have known.
I am going to start a petition AGAINST VIAGRA. Today, a man in his eighties came in and bought “The Guide To Getting It Awn” (as you can tell it’s one of those sex books. This one has the nice distinction as only having drawn illustrations instead of photographs
but it actually makes fun of it’s own illustrations and points out when the people aren’t exactly obeying laws of physics. Not that I’ve
ever looked at it because I’m not married and thus never think about SEX. It wouldn’t be PROPER for yet another incompentent
heterosexual.) His hands were shaking so much that he had problems opening his wallet yet those are going to be the instrument for.. OH PLEASE STOP THE MENTAL IMAGES ALREADY. Do these people WAIT for Saturday when they’ll know I’ll be here. I had three of my worst customers EVER today and these things people call their children HURT MY HEAD LIKE A HUNDRED DOGS!
