All Of My Days Have Been Misspent
Me: I don't know. I drive around so much these days I don't know my asshole from a hole in the ground.
TH: This is the total LONG way. I want to hurry this up.
Me: Shut the fuck up. You do this to me all the time, Mr. I forgot to turn or Mr. I missed the exit.
TH: I know and I hate it when I do that. But I count on you not to do that.
Me: Well now you know how I feel...
A few minutes later....(while driving around the parking lot of the Olive Garden aka WHERE EVERYONE IN SEATTLE EATS DINNER ON A FRIDAY NIGHT)
Me: I wish one of us were gimps. Then we would have a parking space.
TH: You are a gimp.
Me: Yeah but I am not a registered gimp. You have to be a registered gimp to park in those spots.
Me: Fuckerpants, we are not eating here. I don't want to have to park 2 miles away. Let's go to that restaurant that noone goes to ever.
TH: Which one...?
Me: That one on the corner that is cursed.
TH: Cursed?
Me: Yeah...I mean I have lived her for 5 years and in those 5 years it has been a steakhouse, a sportsbar, a pizza place, a breakfast restaurant and now it is a pizza place again. But at least there will be somewhere to park and we will be seated right away.
TH: Alright. But will the food be cursed?
The producers of this diary would like to apologize to the readers for the writers references to handicapped persons as "gimps". We advised the writer in advance that this was not a good idea and she told us to "Shove an oar up our asses." She also said, "Being politically correct is so 1990."
