It’s 30 degrees outside…feels like NYC’s Fake Spring
I watched the news last night so I really shouldn’t be complaining. It’s one of those fluke days. The cold wind was so strong it almost knocked me over into a street meat cart. But like Maya Angelou, ’still I rise’. It’s been a strange time at work. I’ve been salivating over my co-worker’s firm ass (I call him hot southern IT guy) and trying to answer every question Ms Bulgaria wants and needs to know. My white coworker’s ghetto black booty aside, I have been working on the dreaded task of writing up my job. You know what!?! I did a lot of shite. Who knew writing up a click here and a spreadsheet there would be so time consuming. That panda is jonezing for another beatdown (see Rainbows, Unicorns and Sunshine). I’m going to try to stay focused. I’m gonna need that focus tomorrow as I go for my first of 7 driving lessons. Hopefully the cold wind will keep my eyes wide open and my pupils slightly dilated. I know how to drive but was too scared to get my license at the ripe age of 16 due to a psychotic and hypertensive driver’s ed instructor. Now my glory shall come and many more stories I’m sure from my russian driving instructor. I bet I’ll get a swig of Stolichnaya if I pass. Stay tuned folks.
I guess it’s a NYC or east coast thing, but “a street meat cart” sounds like an obscure sexual innuendo. Which I kind of hope it is because the idea of buying meat from a cart in the street is really gross.