Last night I was all set to tell you about my evening with my brother and his girlfriend and her friend from work, and how we watched Fun with Dick and Jane and laughed pretty much the whole time, and then went to Applebee's for happy-hour-priced supper, and how the boneless buffalo wings were actually a little too spicy for my internal comfort. I was going to tell you how we kept on laughing even though the movie was over, and how they all played with their cell phone cameras while we waited for our food, and how my brother's girlfriend was trying to figure out a way to steal this huge Madonna poster (not really, Mom, she was joking), and how her work buddy convinced me that the Hollywood/television stereotype of the gay guy friend actually has a basis in reality.
I was going to tell you all this when I got home, even though it was late, because B is for blogging. But I ended up looking at socks instead.
Today was less eventful. Except for the part where I locked my house key into the house when I left for work (not any other keys, just my house key), and then had to play phone tag with several different friends to get back in again. Oh yeah, and I'm getting a head start on something related to the next letter of the alphabet, but you have to wait a couple weeks to hear about that. It's too early to have much to report about it anyway.
So really, I'm only posting to tell you that I don't have anything to tell you.
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3 comments:
One time on a road trip to Tacoma to see Squad-five-O, my friend Jonny stole a Brittany Spears poster from a restaraunt and hung it up in the van we were driving in. And when he wasn't looking I threw it out the back window.
oh golly; i like these socks.
pat, i like your story. it's a little uncharacteristic and a lot hilarious. in the same vein as the one about thirsty lindsey at the pink martini show.
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