Jan 14th, thursday (i think) or the year 1999
She's kind of cute, in a deaths-head sort of way.
This totally random remark came into my head on the way to work (along I st between 12th and 13th). I have no idea why i thought this or what it means. I just thought it was funny.
So im starting a mental (and maybe soon electronical) list of resteraunts with consistantly bad soda. On the top of the list is Del Taco on Alhambra and K st. The just never have the misture right. Second, and finally (its a short list), is Carls Jr in the downtown plaza. Their Dr pepper and coke always taste funny. So you can email anymore that you know of and if i dont reply that just means that i hate you.
So i heard some Jesse the body ventura quote that went something like ' 2 shots threw the same hole at 25 yards with a handgun. Thats what i call gun control.' I thought that was pretty funny. Makes (something, i got interuptted and can no longer finish this sentence).
So yesterday I smelled the worst smell that i can remember smelling ever. It was a peice of corn-beef that was left in a fake-tupperware container on the counter for a month. It was seeled but the corn-beef was still green and furry. Is it corn-beef or corned-beef? I guess the tupperware containing the corn-beef got lost in the pile of other tupperware on the counter. man, thinking of the smell still makes me sick. Kind of like a moldy vegtable emall TO THE EXTREME! (i had to type that in caps because i am dumb).
I came up with a career idea. I want to go and become an animal ventriliquist instructor. That way i can teach animals to throw thier 'voices' and the animals can make it big. I feel that this will make up for all the destruction on the environment i've done. Like: flushing the toilet, killing ants with soap, killing ants with birning sugar, killing ants with a hammer, shooting bees with an air blast from a BB gun, throwing rocks and shooting a yellowjack nest with a BB gun til the yellowjakcs get mad and come out and then run inside and turn on the bug-light and watch them fry (actually my dad's idea), making a death trap for ants by stabbing my strech-armstron style incedible hulk toy with a fork and letting the goo run out on a book shelf and having ants come to eat the goo only to get trapped in the goo and they are still there today, and lastly smearing cheese on the wall just out of the cats reach so it has to really strech and stick out its tongue to lick it.
I guess my grandmother (my dads mom) used to have a pet monkey. One day she called the SPCA (animal shelter) and asked them if they every got monkey there. They said no, but took here name down just incase. I guess one day they called and said they got a monkey in and my grandmother went to get it. The monkey didnt have a cage and it hung around my grandmas neck as she drove home. They (grandma and grandpa) called the monkey Pammie. I guess it would swing from the drapes and my mom didnt like it. I guess it would also walk with my grandfather and hold his hand lik a child. My grandfather got attached to the monkey. One day when my grandmother was cleaning its cage, something scared the monkey and it bite her hand. So she got mad and took the monkey back to the SPCA. I guess my grandfather got mad at her for getting ride of the monkey. Later on she said she didnt know why she took the monkey back and that she should have kept it.