I ordered the stripper for Saturday night. You’ll be there, right?
These are words I never thought I’d hear coming from the mouth of my middle-aged female boss.
Uh-whuh?, I responded.
It turns out that Saturday night is the night they’ll be stripping the floors at the store. Sunday night, they’ll apply a fresh coat of wax. Meaning the “stripper” mentioned earlier is, in fact, the chemicals we’ll be applying to the floor on Saturday night.
Needless to say, my emotions were mixed.
I agreed to come in, since more hours = more money and more money always = a good thing. So I come in at nine at night and I’ll be there until the wee hours of the morning (I’m told roughly about four in the morning). My part in the event involves stripping and then mopping.
Again, it’s not as perverted as it sounds.
The following was brought to my attention by Nikki:
Frankly, it terrifies me.
It was at this point in internet conversation that the notion of a “WerePanda” was brought up.
WerePanda. Think about that for a minute. How scary is that mental image? It lures you in close with its cuteness than WHAMMO! It bites you, thus spreading the curse to another victim.
If you even survive.
Edit: Someone draw me a WerePanda, please and thank you.
Having seen the pilot to J.J. Abram’s Fringe (yes, I know, it’s not set to air until September, shut up), I’ve decided it has potential. A lot of it. In fact, I’m hoping it will last longer than three episodes (it’s on Fox, you know), because it could really turn into something grand.
Plus it’s got Pacey from Dawson’s Creek.
Comic-Con International starts tomorrow. You lucky nerdling bastards who get to go will not be spoken to for a while. Unless you bribe me with a bag of free things, of course.
ANT-MAN IS STILL COMING, warns Edgar Wright.
I’ll be finishing this here episode of King of the Hill and then going to bed. You care about this.
Giant Spider Update:
Still have not found the large black and white eight legged menace. But I feel his presence. He’s mocking me.
I will kill him.