Thursday, 06/04/2009 - 7:35 p.m.
The Boy and I watched The Deadliest Warrior this past weekend a LOT and now I want an AK-47 and a flamethrower.
So I was at Target buying stuff for dinner and I got in the express lane. (To be fair I had 11 items when it was 10 or less.) The woman in front of me not only had a bazillion items, she also had a stack of coupons an inch thick *and* wrote a damn check. And had the nerve to be indignant when the cashier asked for ID because of the check. I could actually see myself dousing this woman with the flamethrower and screaming "10 items! 10 items and fuck you for writing a damn check!".
I suspect a little hormonal rage at work here, especially since my face has broken out and I've been crying off and on all day. I cried because I'm happy about our anniversary, I cried over the plane from Rio that went down (they found wreckage today), I cried over Arwen and Aragorn's love affair even though I've seen LOTR a dozen times, I cried over the good sex DC and I had today. Feh.
Chocolate cookies? I believe I will, thanks. Not as good as a flamethrower but will do in a pinch.
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