Originally Posted By A Happy Haunt I had a dream last night I was on The HM & saw a Hidden Mickey in the Eyes wallpaper!
Originally Posted By alexbook That's the first time I've heard the South Vietnamese national anthem in quite a while.
Originally Posted By Pixie Glitter Seven teenaged girls can make more noise than triple that number of adults. Really, really shrill noise.
Originally Posted By Lady Starlight I'm taking belly dancing lessons, wich is rediculous because my belly dances on its OWN no matter what,even when I dont want it to.
Originally Posted By A Happy Haunt I,m sick of hearing about A-Rod & Manny & the baseball season didn't even start yet!
Originally Posted By mele Kittens! <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FtX8nswnUKU" target="_blank">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v...8nswnUKU</a>
Originally Posted By MissCandice I don't know whether I should be a butthead or let it go. I guess I'll let it go but really, floss bikinis?
Originally Posted By Pixie Glitter I don't like Jason, The Bachelor, anymore. I hope at least one of the spurned women tries to scratch his eyes out on The Women Tell All show.
Originally Posted By Goofyernmost Pixie seems to be casting men aside at an alarming rate. She needs help! Heart breaker!
Originally Posted By Autopia Deb Baseball practices start today, *my* Silly Season. And so it begins.
Originally Posted By mele <<I guess I should get dressed.>> I should hope so. You've been at work now for hours. Might I suggest a floss bikini?
Originally Posted By Kar2oonMan So I am at the DMV yesterday, seated in the waiting area. This man goes walking past, wearing some sort of strange sandal-type slip on shoes. They slap loudly on the floor with every step, sounding as if they are made of wood. He walked back and forth through the office several times. Slap! Slap! Slap! went his shoes. Apparently, he was oblivious to the slapping sound as he kept walking and walking. "Did he make those shoes himself?" I wondered to myself. "Surely, you can't BUY shoes like that anywhere. They're very silly shoes. They can't be comfortable." I imagined him gathering the items he would need at a local arts & crafts store. Glue. Balsa wood. Lime green vinyl contact paper. I imagined him sketching the design of the bad shoes. Spending hours carving and sanding them to approximately his size. And then trying them on and hearing the slap! slap! slap! sound for the first time himself. Or did he never hear it? Was he impervious to his own slapping shoe sounds? I imagined that everywhere he goes, store clerks smirk and whisper to each other "Here comes Slappy!" I imagined him trekking across a hot parking lot during the summer, the loud slap-schtunk-slap-schtunk sounds as his lime green sandals stuck to the soles of his sweaty feet before striking the blistering pavement. His shoes became like a Tell-Tale Heart to me. No mater how far away he walked, way on the other side of the crowded DMV, I could still hear the loud reports of those hideous shoes on the bland, utilitarian tile of the DMV. I imagined a few of those tiles falling away, and Slappy plummeting into a deep cavern, never to be heard from again. Such are the thoughts of one who waits too long at the DMV.
