Yesterday morning the streets were blocked off by my work due to the filming of Public Enemies.... and also due to the filming of Public Enemies, my store was dead and many many crazy bitches were hanging out around outside waiting for a glimpse of Johnny Depp.
I hung out with the security guard and talked about Ralph Nader, and swore up and down that I did not care to see Johnny Depp because I didn't actually have anything important to say to him (Which was a lie- I wanted to see him, and maybe touch his face. Like, just for a second, because I have had a crush on Johnny Depp ever since I was like, 7, and to this day I do believe that no human being will ever again achieve the level of sexiness he did in the movie "Crybaby."). He told me stories of more crazy bitches who climbed trees and fell on Mr. Depp's trailer, which seems excessive to me. I don't know what they thought was going to happen. Like Johnny Depp was gonna be all "Wow! I know I'm married with kids and all- but screw them! You are the woman of my dreams, crazy bitch who fell out of the tree onto my trailer!" or something. Even I am not that delusional.
I found out that Catherine, the French lady at my work, put in her two weeks notice, and I feel kind of bad, because we haven't been getting along so well lately... but I do love her a lot, and who is going to tell me I have nice ankles, and get mad at me for saying boobs instead of breasts now?
I was in Jezebel's Past Fashions: Prom Edition... looking chubby and glittery in a handmade monstrosity of pink vinyl and taffetta. I have no shame, so here you go. I promise you the dress was way cooler in my imagination than it turned out to be.
I had an awkward run in with a dingleberry, who was in fact responsible for the coining of the term dingleberry in the first place. I maybe feel bad on some level... because we hung out once... and then he kept calling me like, every day for two months, and I kept ignoring it, and saying I was busy- and I probably wouldn't have felt all that bad if he hadn't been friends with Jen... but he was... and then today he was all "Do you still go out a lot?" and I was all "I like drinkin'" and then he was all "Oh, we should hang out sometime" and I said "I hang out all the time. Mostly in my neighborhood- I'm sure I'll see you out sometime." And then I pretended I was late for something.
The day went on for at least three... and then it ended, and I got my hair cut, and then we went out drinking at places I do not normally frequent, where I received many invitations to many gun shows. One of which I would have been willing to attend (and will possibly attend tonight), had I not been feeling kind of nauseous at the time. Unfortunately, I forget the name of this gun show. Whatever it was, I think it means something like "Has biceps that are actually bigger than Robyn's head" in Serbian (I know because I measured. I am not being hyperbolic). Yes, I realize that I'm supposed to be all gooey over the manorexics and shit, but honestly they just don't do it for me- I'm kinda shallow- I like my fellas tall, dark, and handsome and muscley. Maybe because I'm kinda mouthy and I like having someone around that, well, you know, can back me up. Also, I like that it completely pisses off the hepcat establishment, by defying that "Thou shalt swoon over the homely" commandment. Anyway, Gun Show ripped my new purple tights, so now I have to go get some new ones.
And that is my story.