Jun 19, 2012
Musings of This,That and Other Things
So.. standing in line at the coffee/donut shop waiting for my order. There's a little raised bar from the counter they set your coffee and brown bag your donut. The brown bag, by the way, is not the see through variety, hence the brown colour of the bag. So you can understand when the little bag is set down next to my coffee ( you can't mistake it, I dilute it with half hot water, it's clearly written ) I assume it's mine.
Ooops not yours I was informed after picking it up.
It belonged to the self entitled cow behind me. The one that had a snit and demanded a new one. Yes, you read that right. A new one. Apparently I had somehow deposited cooties on the outside of the bag.
Lady, are you frikken kidding me?? I touched the bag, I didn't sneeze on it, I didn't look in it, I wear deodorant, hell I even take a shower once a month whether I need it or not.
Now they have to throw it away and get another because you know Princess here is of Royal Gold Plated lineage.
By the way, honey? when you were having your little royal snit I saw a fly land on the top of your coffee lid and rub it's back legs. On the part where you drink from.
It strikes me time and time again how awkward boys are. Their stance,their gait, in the very way they just are. I'm not exactly sure when they develop their swag, some never do I suppose but it's almost painful to watch at times.
Case and point: I live in redneck country, where the buffalo roam and cowboys come out in their finery at rodeos. Nothing more comical than watching such a young cowboy wanna be in the making dressed up in a new stiff shirt, buckle shined up and boots not yet broken in. And by young, I mean last teens, early twenties. Where's your cowboy stride young man? That strut those cowboys swagger around with?
I know it's not really nice but it takes all I have not to burst out laughing at times. I feel both sorry even embarrassed for him. What's it going to take to 'James Bond' this one? When is he going to find his swag?
Okay, honestly... People who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. I know a couple of people who epitomize this. Eventually those living in that glass house will sink a ship and there won't be a raft nor buoy to be found. And what an interesting day that will be.
I gotta tell you if you can't cry on your Momma's shoulder (mine lives four provinces away) the next best thing is Face Time. Better than Skype, you don't get those static hesitations. But sighhhhhhhh I miss my Mommy.. ( lol yeah.. shoring up major points as she will eventually read this post. Muahahahhah, bite me Sisters o'mine. :-P )
I'm not sure if it's like this where you live but from where I'm from, we always say that men who drive big souped up trucks are errr trying to accomodate for lacking in um other areas. Like women wearing padded bras, sort of. What makes me laugh outright is when I see some big ass truck pull up, park and out hops a man who's top of his head barely reaches the mid part of his side mirrors. Now that there's just comical.
What about you, my bloggy pals, what are your musings and thoughts?