Heart, Samuel L. Jackson. Heart!

(artist's representation of my feelings about Snakes on a Plane)

7:24 a.m.

I don't have much time because I have that pesky job to go to, but I felt as if I needed to share a few things with this stupid blog.

Such as, SNAKES ON A PLANE = heart

And last night a new car was purchased. It is inexplicably shiny and oh GEEZ, Justin bought a new CAR last night? It's just starting to sink in. So we have to say goodbye to one of our awesome shit-boxes (most likely my pathetic little Escort), switch around insurances, etc. In December I will probably procure my parents old-to-them-but-new-and-incredibly-nice-to-me car, and then we will sell the other shit-box.

And then we will both have DECENT CARS and the planets will align and unicorns will no longer be extinct and chipmunks will lie down with Jelly Roll.

Etc.

In other news, our sales person told us how much he made at his last job as a financial something or other (81 a year) and his wife made (50 a year) but now they've moved to this town so she can get her PhD in math and he's now a car salesman. He made us check out his Saab. It cost 47,000.

At the Toyota dealership we were accosted by the worst. salesgirl. ever. Who didn't actually know ANYTHING about the cars she was trying to sell. Also, I think I was old enough to be her mother, and I'm 25. She'd say, "Oh, you're looking for good gas mileage and low cost? Let me ask my manager what he'd recommend." And then she'd be gone for ten minutes and come back and ask us if we liked that very expensive and gigantic SUV. She also tried to tell us how to use THE INTERNET. She also mouth breathed a lot. And would drag us out to a car and realize she had forgotten to get the keys. (This happened more than once.)

Etc.

I really need to go now.

Etc.

black sheep