I've sadly realised that the days of nipping out for some blank disks in under half an hour are sadly long gone now that I'm forced to queue up behind stupid, slow, slovenly, dimwitted, moronic, bovine housewives who are so dumb the only career move they could make was to spread their legs and trap some idiot into marrying them. Hmph. Hate housewives. Hate they way they're so frelling slow at the checkout, always demanding price checks when there's no staff and only one checkout open. On my lunch hour here, lady, key word: hour. Hmph again. Okay, so I've calmed down from magenta to hot pink, but, well, really.
Decided to try out out Starbuck's green tea frappacino, ever brave and adventurous as the staff noted. It's okay to start with, a little overly sweet for my liking, but it has a weird bitter chemical aftertaste, you know, like you get if you eat cheap and nasty lollies (I never buy 'em but I'm always offered them, yuck). Sort of like that dreadful icecream mother bought that tasted like redskins. Insert an icon of me scrunching up my face in distaste here. Four out of ten for the green tea frappacino I'm afraid, and that's me being kind. I think I've just taken another ten years off my life, never mind the whole fat thing. That chemical aftertaste makes me think I've poisoned myself, and I probably have. Not to mention the colour of the thing. One arsenic frappacino, coming right up.
I think I forgot to mention that my friend gave me a copy of The Princess Bride for my birthday, and that I played it on Sunday evening and loved every minute of it, again. It's one of my favourite films of all time. In fact if you don't like The Princess Bride I've nothing to say to you. I'm pretty broad minded, I reckon, but if I was meeting new people that'd be a deal breaker. Why bother talking to people who don't love The Princess Bride? Life's too short to bother with such joyless drudges. Oh, how I love that film!
