Jen

I have been asked to blog although I have absolutely nothing to write about.

Hmmm. . . .

How is the mission coming you ask? Well, the lucky, LUCKY, dog that Greg is; he is dead center. So, I guess we have to meet over there. As Marc has been saying lately (and I have a major liking for it anyway) bollocks! It’s a bit of a hike, but I’m up for the challenge. Bring it on (no, not the movie.) Of course, someone doesn’t know where to eat over there. . .

I don’t know if anyone remembers me writing about this, but the new Sears on State is having those four Australian guys move into the storefront from today all the way to the 25th of June. So, being curious of freakish things, I will go check it out after I stop at Oh baby* which lately, has had only scary clothing for sale.

Did I ever mention how our microwave here at work sucks ass? Well, I made some popcorn as a snack and half of the kernels weren’t popped and some popcorn was burnt. Tell me how that happens? If you want to cook lunch in our microwave, be prepared to start at least a good 15 to 20 minutes prior to when you want to eat. We have been begging Bill to sentence the microwave to death and get us a new one, but he’s a bit reluctant. I believe that it is because he never ever has to use the microwave. If Bill wants lunch, he sure as hell isn’t going to be pulling out a frozen meal and microwaving it! He’s going to go somewhere nice, where they actually cook food in an oven of sorts. The lunch also most likely does not come from a cardboard box.

Bill freaked us out one time when he actually made lunch here at the office and ate with us. Barb and I bought lunchmeat, bread and cheese from Webvan. Anyway, Bill goes into the fridge, pulls out our food and makes a sandwich. I don’t really care that he used our stuff, but it was crazy to have him make it. He even cut the sandwich in halves! It was kinda cute, because I swear it looked like he hadn’t made a sandwich for himself in ages. Although I’m probably wrong about that.

Ok, maybe I did have something to say.

*I have this baby blue shirt that has Old Navy printed on it that I usually wear when I wash my car or clean, because I could care less what happens to it. Anyway, Jer (my best bud) misread it and ripped on me for wearing a shirt that said, “oh baby.” Then I ripped on Jer for misreading the shirt and calling the store oh baby. Did I ever mention the time where he misheard lyrics to that stupid Bodeans (NWAD) song? Ah another story for another time.