A funny.

I have to share this because it's hilarious and this is the last place I can share this kind of stuff.

Friend: "has had a lovely phone interaction with the most obscene, irrate, and rude piece of ca-ca, EVER! I have lived in CRAZYTOWN for 8 years, we do NOT have an ESSO station. I had a courier call and ask me how to get to my house from ESSO. I told him, I am sorry, we do not have an ESSO in CRAZYTOWN. He proceeded to tell me... I was stupid. Hum buddy, you pissed off the wrong exhausted pregnant woman!"

ummm... so... being curious... I googled it. "CRAZYTOWN ESSO"

And there is an ESSO in CRAZYTOWN.

I guess we should focus on the fact that Friend is EXHAUSTED and about 12 months pregnant and possibly not in her right mind.

Parable

(Aka 'Oh Look, an Abandoned Blog')

Looked like on of those dives you see on the silver screen, all dark
booths and a long wooden bar. Unsavoury charatcers sit at tables, but
they don't talk. Heck, the entrance is even down an alley, just as
you think it should be.
I didn't think I remembered where it was, hell, I'd done some work to
forget. I'd thrown away the map, deleted the number, call it what you
like. Let's just say I wasn't eager to re-forge my relationship with
the place.
But there I was. Couldn't even remember how I got there. There'd
been a dustup... In front of Colby's maybe. Anyway, the lights came
back on in my head and I was back there. Glass of beer in my hand,
just like the old days. No pint glasses in here; this isn't Hudson's,
college boy.

Funny, but I never noticed the smell before that night, like a factory
stink. The stink of a hundred sweaty guys drinkin' desperation and
munching wasted-life from bowls on the bar. Saw a couple of old
acquaintances, friends I'd have called them then, grey sack-cloth for
faces and then little Xes sewn on for eyes. I don't think they saw
me. Maybe they did; maybe they didn't recognize me. Planning not to
be back meant I hadn't kept in touch, and I'd changed a fair 'mount.

Wouldn't you know it, but into this cess-pool of human sadness she walks.

And it was just like the scene in the movie, you know the one with the
music and the black and white soft focus. I think she even had a hat
on.

And she gives me five good reasons to get out of my chair right upside
the head and turns to walk out.

And I'm lying there in the ruins of my chair, half a bowl of salted
nuts and six ounces of beer and I had a choice to make. I could lay
there in the muck on the floor or get the hell up and out.

So I get up and out.

And if I see that place again before I'm a-hundred and eight, it'll be
seven life-times too soon.

--
Sent from my mobile device