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Stuff for you
You there! You want a holiday card? Angling for a gift sometime this century?
Address.
Holiday of choice, if you have one, and if you don't, you'll probably get a happy holidays one anyway, but assume I mean the pretend one you just haven't thought of since you were five.
If you're hinting for a gift, a wishlist/list of demands/giant neon hint would also be a good idea.
Screened for your protection and all that jazz.
And now, because it kills me to have no one to discuss this with, I fell into my own personal hell last night. Well, Saturday night, anyway. There I was, thinking I was mostly done for the evening [with time to spare] and I look up and see my brother's on again/off again girlfriend. Which wasn't a surprise, as I'd seen her come into the store and even thanked her for letting the boy borrow her car to get me to work while ours was being a whore.
No, the surprise was the tiny box in her arms. Pink or purple, I don't recall, but either way it was still my brother's girlfriend buying a pregnancy test at four am on a Saturday night.
Topped off by answering the phone hours later, taking a message for the boy and casually asking, "Who's Lauren?" and my mother rolls her eyes and says, "The girlfriend -pink/purplebox/- isn't supposed to know about."
Christ. On. A. Cracker.
Address.
Holiday of choice, if you have one, and if you don't, you'll probably get a happy holidays one anyway, but assume I mean the pretend one you just haven't thought of since you were five.
If you're hinting for a gift, a wishlist/list of demands/giant neon hint would also be a good idea.
Screened for your protection and all that jazz.
And now, because it kills me to have no one to discuss this with, I fell into my own personal hell last night. Well, Saturday night, anyway. There I was, thinking I was mostly done for the evening [with time to spare] and I look up and see my brother's on again/off again girlfriend. Which wasn't a surprise, as I'd seen her come into the store and even thanked her for letting the boy borrow her car to get me to work while ours was being a whore.
No, the surprise was the tiny box in her arms. Pink or purple, I don't recall, but either way it was still my brother's girlfriend buying a pregnancy test at four am on a Saturday night.
Topped off by answering the phone hours later, taking a message for the boy and casually asking, "Who's Lauren?" and my mother rolls her eyes and says, "The girlfriend -pink/purplebox/- isn't supposed to know about."
Christ. On. A. Cracker.