07-12-2004, 08:38 PM
Memo to dudes wearing class rings: what are you thinking? The only guys who should be wearing rings are married men and Warren Sapp.
Memo to people wearing t-shirts from Urban Outfitters: thrift store t-shirts arent cool if they cost thirty bucks and everyone has the same one.
Memo to dudes in suits wearing baseball caps: the fact that you are wearing a suit pretty much eliminates the possibility that youre going to the beach or a baseball game, thus by wearing a hat for no apparent reason, you are actually calling more attention to the fact that you are clearly bald.
Memo to food service employees: if you leave those latex gloves on the whole day, including when you handle money and use the bathroom, it kind of defeats the purpose.
I can never remember anyone?s name. In fact, names are my third biggest weakness (behind a complete lack of sense of direction and brunettes in wife-beaters). I am also a sarcastic wiseass who cant resist cracking a joke at someone elses expense. Surprisingly, this actually helps with my names problem. The other day my friend Jen started telling me a story and I stopped her like, "Wait, Jessica, who is that?" And Jen was like, "She?s the blonde that you met last time I visited." "Oh yeah, I made fun of her shirt and she hated me." "No Karo, that was Linda. You told Jessica the gap in her cleavage was unusually wide and she started crying." "OK, right, Linda, shirt, Jessica, cleavage. Got it!"
Women act like "girls night out" is some sort of secret, sacred ritual. But I think I know whats going on. It?s twelve girls in heels going to an overpriced restaurant where everyone orders a salad or the tuna, the last three guys that each girl hooked up with is given an official nickname, at least one dish gets sent back, everyone gets tipsy off two glasses of white wine, the bill is paid on twelve different American Express cards and then everyone leaves and calls each other on their cell phone to gossip about all the other girls. See, I know whats up.
Memo to people wearing t-shirts from Urban Outfitters: thrift store t-shirts arent cool if they cost thirty bucks and everyone has the same one.
Memo to dudes in suits wearing baseball caps: the fact that you are wearing a suit pretty much eliminates the possibility that youre going to the beach or a baseball game, thus by wearing a hat for no apparent reason, you are actually calling more attention to the fact that you are clearly bald.
Memo to food service employees: if you leave those latex gloves on the whole day, including when you handle money and use the bathroom, it kind of defeats the purpose.
I can never remember anyone?s name. In fact, names are my third biggest weakness (behind a complete lack of sense of direction and brunettes in wife-beaters). I am also a sarcastic wiseass who cant resist cracking a joke at someone elses expense. Surprisingly, this actually helps with my names problem. The other day my friend Jen started telling me a story and I stopped her like, "Wait, Jessica, who is that?" And Jen was like, "She?s the blonde that you met last time I visited." "Oh yeah, I made fun of her shirt and she hated me." "No Karo, that was Linda. You told Jessica the gap in her cleavage was unusually wide and she started crying." "OK, right, Linda, shirt, Jessica, cleavage. Got it!"
Women act like "girls night out" is some sort of secret, sacred ritual. But I think I know whats going on. It?s twelve girls in heels going to an overpriced restaurant where everyone orders a salad or the tuna, the last three guys that each girl hooked up with is given an official nickname, at least one dish gets sent back, everyone gets tipsy off two glasses of white wine, the bill is paid on twelve different American Express cards and then everyone leaves and calls each other on their cell phone to gossip about all the other girls. See, I know whats up.
![[Image: 723475742_8cb2b0be6c.jpg]](http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1019/723475742_8cb2b0be6c.jpg)