As I write this, Cat is laying on the floor at my feet, pouting. Seems he wanted some of my Jimmy John’s earlier and I had the gall to not share. Whatever, punk. Life is hard. Learn to deal.
Aaaaanyway, today at the grocery store I purchased (among a cartload of other purchases) a 4-pack of Activia yogurt. Not because Jamie Lee Curtis told me to. Not because I need to poop, like, real bad. But because I find the taste enjoyable. Are other yogurts just as tasty? Sure. But, to my particular taste buds, this brand of vanilla yogurt is, like, fucking awesome.
Cashier: Oh, Activia? I tried that before, but I didn’t like it.
Me: Hmmmerghhmmph. (noise of acknowledgement that someone else has spoken words)
Cashier: I think it’s because I just got a bad batch.
Me (thinking): Okay, that’s gross. Why would you talk about rotten food as you’re trying to encourage me to buy more?
Cashier: I mean, it totally worked though.
Me (thinking): Jesus Christ. I don’t need to know about how fucking regular your bowel movements were that one time. Seriously. Fucking A, lady. Fuck. Ing. A.
the sloppy copy 