I heard through the Facebook line that Chick-fil-A serves a peach shake. How awesome does that sound? Add a little Amaretto (like one Kalynne Pudner, professor extraordinaire) and you have a nice cool refreshing treat. Now I just need to find a Chick-fil-A up here?
Monday's are great, aren't they?
I get to be poked with a needle and have some of my life source pulled right out of my body. Who the heck invented that torture anyway? Okay, you're right, it's not torture. Unless, of course, you are afraid of needles, then well, it's torture. Me personally, I just don't like it, especially with some of these phlebotomists out there.
Andy is experiencing some rejection, from credit card companies. I can't say that I mind him being away from all of that craziness. You would think he would have learned from his parent's past mistakes. Plus, now he wants the new iPhone. I had to give him another one of those rejection notices. He didn't believe me, so he went to the company across the room, company M, and amazingly heard the same spiel. Andy still wants the new iPhone, and knowing him, he'll get it anyway, say in September when we're a couple hundreds away and he conveniently "forgets" to ask our opinion. Next will be piercings and tattoo's.
Oh and that Goth girlfriend, yeah, that will be fun to watch.
Soccer season ended on a sour note. The boys forgot how to a) kick the ball, b) kick the ball, and c) kick the ball. They were relying too much on Benjy, but when you are triple-teamed, there isn't a whole lot you can do. So he crossed pass after pass, only to see them bounce right in front of his teammate's feat. Oh well, at least they appeared to be having fun out there. Next year I start all over, with Maggie. That should be fun.
No Goth girlfriends though.
Only a weird fascination with late night Wal-Mart and Sonic runs.