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I can hope and I can dream and I am full of self-esteeeaam!
Ahahaha, oh. Those poor Redskins. I was laughing so hard by the fourth quarter. Now, why couldn't the Bucs have done the same thing to the Colts on Monday? I mean, we even had a ton of injuries this game and we still beat the Redskins soundly. Eh, well.
You know what? I was entirely born in the wrong era. I practically have drool running down my face when I see dresses and other clothing, houses, furniture, and whatnot from the '20's. And I love '60's through '80's music. And I hate people my own age, ahaha. When I go to some crowded place where there's a ton of people my own age I feel like vomiting, but only if it would be on them. But, you know, if I were old-ish by now I'd be one of those anal, crotchety old farts who sit on their front porches and wave their fists at those God-forsaken young'uns. "Damn you and your blasted rap music!" I'd yell. "You call that an outfit? Your shorts are practically up your arse!"
Hmmhmm. That sounds like my father. No wonder it sounded familiar.
Ten more days until I can go apply for a job.
...!
And like the LJ whore that I am, with my first paycheck I will buy myself I paid account. Ten icons! HTML! CSS! S2 accounts! Embedding! Oh, music to my ears.
Buuut, this proposes a problem. I have no checks. I have no credit card. It would be mildly foolish to send actual money through the mail. I'd have to get Mummy to buy it with her credit card. And I'd have to be sneaky, wicked, trisky, false about it. Hm.
*Braces self for the catastrophe that this week will be*
You know what? I was entirely born in the wrong era. I practically have drool running down my face when I see dresses and other clothing, houses, furniture, and whatnot from the '20's. And I love '60's through '80's music. And I hate people my own age, ahaha. When I go to some crowded place where there's a ton of people my own age I feel like vomiting, but only if it would be on them. But, you know, if I were old-ish by now I'd be one of those anal, crotchety old farts who sit on their front porches and wave their fists at those God-forsaken young'uns. "Damn you and your blasted rap music!" I'd yell. "You call that an outfit? Your shorts are practically up your arse!"
Hmmhmm. That sounds like my father. No wonder it sounded familiar.
Ten more days until I can go apply for a job.
...!
And like the LJ whore that I am, with my first paycheck I will buy myself I paid account. Ten icons! HTML! CSS! S2 accounts! Embedding! Oh, music to my ears.
Buuut, this proposes a problem. I have no checks. I have no credit card. It would be mildly foolish to send actual money through the mail. I'd have to get Mummy to buy it with her credit card. And I'd have to be sneaky, wicked, trisky, false about it. Hm.
*Braces self for the catastrophe that this week will be*
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Paid account! I loathe you right now. Hee! I tease. <3
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Meh. I don't think I could be that, either. :D
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AHAHA. <3
My dad even says I should've been around during the 60s. Which would make me, like, the same age as him...which just wouldn't work. But that's not the point.
*giggle*
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And, hey, a child of the '80's ain't bad either.