This is the one and only Wilhelm, the Christmas wiener! I truly think he’s one of the most fabulously tacky Christmas decorations I have ever had the privilege of owning. I spotted a display of these delightfully gaudy little fellas weeks ago and immediately knew I simply had to have one. And there was a sale. So now I have Wilhelm, who holds the honored spot of being one of the wackier items in my wacky Christmas decor/collection. Yay for Wilhelm, the Christmas Wiener! (P.S…my neighbor down the street has a fancy light up Christmas wiener in their yard that really would be a lovely addition to my wacky Christmas stuff. I admit, I’m jealous. How dare the flaunt there fancy light-up Christmas wiener like that!? Jerks.)
So I was watching Intervention the other day…shocking, I know. Anywho, they had this chick on that has been a heroin addict for, like, a bunch of years. In fact, she shot up heroin for so long that all her veins just up and quit on her which, of course, makes sense because there is only so many times a vein can get stabbed on a daily basis before it just says ‘fuck this shit’ and curls into its very own version of the fetal position and refuses to move anymore. So once her veins quit working, this woman has to do something, right? And we all know she didn’t take that as some sort of tell-tale sign that maybe she should, you know, not do drugs anymore. Nope, instead she somehow comes to the conclusion that, since her veins are broken or whatever, she will simply take the heroin another way. Now, you may assume she decided to smoke it or snort it or eat it or something, right? Oh no! Not this chick! She decides to start taking the heroin ANALLY. That’s right. Her veins stop working and somehow she decides the next logical step is to take it via the ol’ poop shoot. Like, how does that seem like the next option?? How do you go from veins right to anal?? Seriously, WTEFF???? And she was all casual and matter of fact about it, showing the camera how she just slides a syringe (sans needle, in case you were wondering, which should be obvious but you just never know really) under her skirt or up her shorts and just sends a delivery right on up her bahookey. And she manages to do so without even the slightest shocking skin reveal!
A couple of weeks ago I had an interesting encounter with a customer at work. He was purchasing some stuff and came up short on money. He searched his pockets for a minute before whipping out a baggie of weed (marijuana for those who prefer non slang terminology). He grinned stupidly and laughingly offered to pay with the weed. I politely declined, pointing out I wouldn’t know what the hell to do with it anyway. (Honestly, I have no idea how to use it or sell it, so what the hell would I do with it? I don’t even know how exactly one goes about rolling a joint and I have even less of a clue how you would go about ‘smoking a bowl’. Yes, folks, I am actually that cluelessly boring and nerdy and such. I’m basically weed-tarded.) At that point, he returned aforementioned still-illegal-in-our-state substance to his pocket, expressed his awe and admiration that I was clueless about utilizing the stuff, and waltzed out the door. It had to be one of the strangest encounters I have had at this job to date. And the fucker never did come up with the 60-some cents he still owed, though he did take his mostly-purchased items with him. It’s cool though. I know where he lives and he comes in pretty much every day, so I just made him fork it over the next time. It is hard to keep a straight face when I wait on him nowadays though. I mean, think about it. He threw a bag of weed on the counter in front a cashier he knows nothing about with cameras all over the place. If I cared enough to be a bitch, I totally could have turned his ass in! What an idiot.
My philodendron plant (Philomina) is still alive and well, so yay for me not killing so far! I’m still feeling somewhat ashamed over the terminology weed-tarded, yet I keep giggling over it too. My Christmas socks of the day–adorable Christmas trees. Chloe’s new barbies are sure some sassy bitches. You know, I don’t see many hyena or wombat Christmas ornaments…weird. Now that I thought about it, a wombat Christmas ornament would be absolutely fricking adorable. It’s weird how people think it’s weird that I named my car. My pal Krystal’s new bf, Scott, seems like a nice lad…I really hope he is…I’d hate to have to hate him and such, especially since he thinks my new nickname should be Epic, which is kind of an epic sort of nickname really, and he seems to find me amusing and such. Yeah, I really hope he isn’t a jackwagon. I hate when you think you have almost all your Christmas shopping done and then you realize you were wrong and now you have to figure out what the hell to get the 8 people you just realized you totally did not shop for yet. Siiigh. Night all!
That’s that, wombat!!