Sometimes I'd think it'd be fun to have an old (mid-'60s or older) VW Beetle to use to run around town....
My aunt has a 1967 or 68 VW convertible that I covet. She's had it for at least 30 years and may very well be the original owner. I love that car.
I now have a bright purple cast after a visit to the orthopedist.
Can we tell you things to write on it in lieu of being there?
Good to hear no surgery.
On my recent drive out to Victor's, I passed what looked for all the world like a racing VWBug, being towed on a trailer. It's one of those things you see on the highway (like a cow in a horse trailer) that you wonder what the real story is on it.
I'd really like a Vespa.
I just had my picture taken with a coworker for immigration reasons. His.
That's just weird.
Can we tell you things to write on it in lieu of being there?
Um...no. But you can pretend they're written on there.
So so so happy right now. Not only did
France
win, but they beat
Spain
!!
megan, I'm so sorry I couldn't watch that match grumblebossinofficewheretvisgrumble, but it sounded AMAZING.
It was a pretty good match, with none of the yellow card craziness of previous ones.
Someone at krav showed me a video of football players practicing feigning injuries, falling in different configurations, all accompanied by that urgent waving over of medical help.
Funny as shit.
I, uh, just don't have the link.
You know, I will do the pee pee dance rather than enter the women's room at the same time as any female coworker I talk to. It's a thing. Don't want to be drawn into a cross-cubicle conversation, one that's started outside, and they think to continue while you're in what should be a cone of silence.
I only needed to put on more lip gloss, and I swear it looked like she was going to someone's office. But damn if we a) don't end up in lockstep on the way to the loo, and b) she doesn't start talking to me.
I'm so happy she waited to finish the conversation before entering the stall. I'd have left her in midsentence and plead poor timing later.
You know, I will do the pee pee dance rather than enter the women's room at the same time as any female coworker I talk to. It's a thing. Don't want to be drawn into a cross-cubicle conversation, one that's started outside, and they think to continue while you're in what should be a cone of silence.
I hate it when people try to carry on conversations with me in the bathroom. It's even worse when you get complete strangers try to strike up a conversation. "How's it going?" "Are you looking for the literal answer to that?"