Say whatever the heck you want about this song, but it wasn’t written to please everyone (note the link to info about the song itself).
“Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue (The Angry American)” / Toby Keith (2002)
Also, do we wish others a “happy” Memorial Day? How about a “hopeful” one, as in “let’s get our people home in one piece”?
Activities that we have witnessed our neighbor doing with a beer in one hand:
In Sideways World,* Julie ran with the Velvet Underground and did lines with Andy Warhol. I swear, it happened.
“Walk on the Wild Side” / Lou Reed (1972)
*Haha, LOST reference that I do not completely understand but appropriated for my own use anyway!
I don’t know why this song is in my head, but this video is just downright awesome.
“Good Times Gonna Come” / Aqualung (2005)
Last and certainly not least: the piece de resistance – the Greatest of Them All (excuse the shitty video):
“El Paso” / Marty Robbins (1959)
Dedicated to BK.
“So what does he want us all to bring to this party? I just kind of assumed it was BYOB; I don’t think we want a repeat of last time when Jason showed up and drank all the beer. No, seriously: the dude drank all the goddamn beer. Matt probably bought, like, a thousand beers for the party and Jason drank every last fucking one. Well, fuck you, Jason, because I’m bringing my own shit.
“I mean, I’ll share whatever I bring. But not with Jason. Well, he probably won’t be there anyway. I think he moved to Houston or Florida or some shit, right? Or wait – isn’t he in rehab or jail or something? Actually, I think it’s rehab jail. In Houston. Or Florida.
“If the last party is any indication, the girl: guy ratio will favor the ladies, so I’m thinking that some sort of cocktail mixes are in order. I think they sell margaritas with tequila already in it, right? Oh, yeah, right here. Holy fuck, this shit’s expensive! Fifteen bucks for a gallon of margarita?! Do you realize how many gallons of beer I can buy for 15 bucks? Fine, fine. But I’m not getting the Jose Cuervo shit. What’s this? Chi-chis? What the hell is Chi-chis? Is that that Mexican place that Jason got thrown out of last Cinco de Mayo? Oh, fuck, man! It is. Jesus, he’s lucky that waitress didn’t press charges, man. That was just nasty.
Okay, so I’ll get some of this Chi-chis stuff. What else? Should I get some chips? I think they’re… whoa, wait! There’s, like, a whole other fucking aisle of liquor in this place! No shit, bro! Ohhhhh…No way! No way! There’s a motherfucking clearance bin! Oh, forget this Chi-chis crap, there’s some other stuff here: Juan Pablo’s Mango Margarita Madness. Six bucks, man! Should I get two? Oh, wait, there’s only one left…
“Yeah, it’s in a plastic bottle. No- I know better. I remember last time. Does Matt still have that dog? Oh, man. I didn’t know dogs ate queso, man. That dog was fucking stupid. Any idiot could see it had fucking glass in it.
“Okay, so I got the drinks. What else? Chips? Okay, we’ve got regular…wavy…salt and vinegar… honey barbe– whoa. Whoa. Hold up, son. I have a fucking awesome idea…
“Fruit! Yes. Fruit. They’ve got watermelon already cut up! All we have to do is pour some grain alcohol over it and bam! Instant drunk. This is GENIUS, man. Genius. You’re lucky I’m your friend, bro. I am FULL of good goddamn ideas!
“Oh, shit, you’re right. They don’t sell that shit in this state. How long does it take to get to the state line? I think they got it south of here, right? I could probably make it in an hour…
“Mmmm. Yeah, good point. Matt’s neighbors are a bunch of tools. They call the cops all the fucking time on him. Maybe we’ll just use vodka. Don’t want to tempt fate. Especially if Jason shows up. Unless he’s fucking dead or something. Fucking Jason.”
“Okay, I’m gonna check out now.
Dear Whoever is Reading This or Whomever is Reading This, Whichever is More Grammatically Accurate:
Here’s my cover letter. I’m applying for the <job title> position. I saw it online at <website> and thought “whoa, I think that I could do this.” And then I read through the “qualifications” section and was like “Oh, hell yes – it’s like this job was created just for yours truly! I can’t wait to wow them with my academic and experiential cred!”
So I put together my resume, and let me tell ya – I really took my time with that one. The formatting was a bitch! Seriously, my resume alone is proof that I’m a Microsoft Word ninja. I am pretty fucking proud of myself with that one: I spent, like, an hour getting the tabs just right. Jesus. You’ll also notice that I was nice enough to just put the whole damn thing into a pdf for you, because NO WAY in HAY-ELL was that bitch gonna open up smoothly on your computer. It sounds like yours is a PC department, which is fine and I won’t hold it against you. But I’m a Mac gal, for better or for worse, and the document probably just looks prettier on my screen than on yours.
Okay, so aaaanyway, my resume is attached. But your online application system is asking for a cover letter, too. I really hate cover letters; I tried to apply without one and the system was getting all pissy on me.
So here I am, cover letter-ing it up for ya. Honestly, I’d hope that my resume speaks enough to my qualifications, and the cover letter is just redundantly describing each bullet point in further detail, but – hey! You’re the doctor, eh? Ha, ha. But no, seriously: just give me a call and I’d be happy to chat you up. I’ll even speak in complete sentences so that it’s like you’re just reading a cover letter. Actually, you might as well just invite me to your office to discuss this opportunity further. I’ll even bring the coffee. Are you okay with Folger’s? ‘Cause I can’t afford that Starbucks shit. I mean, I am job searching, after all. Okay, okay, fine. But it’s gonna have to be that instant stuff. Is there a hot water pot in your office? Or should I just run the tap in the bathroom? Whatever. Either way, there will be coffee.
Anyway, I’m gonna wrap this up now. Just go ahead and let me know when you want me to come in. My schedule’s pretty much open, but I’d prefer it not be before 10:00 in the morning. A girl needs her beauty sleep, after all, heh heh.
Peace out cub scouts,
Julie
I broke down today – no worries, there was no sobbing involved, just steely resignation as I entered my credit card number – and finally took steps to purchase a new battery for my laptop (currently, it goes from On to Shut Down when the power cord is removed in 1 second. Literally! One second!).
And as I perused the Apple site, I came across this pic of young stoner Chris O’Donnell helping a fellow dude at the Apple Genius Bar (I know the picture is massive. Deal with it):
the sloppy copy 