My hair is unruly

Lest Ms. House think herself spared my “sharp tongue” (thanks Margaret), I must, of course, reply. Admittedly, I rather naively set myself up for failure, and Anne took me to task. But let’s probe a bit more deeply into the matter, shall we? I see two other men in our dear faux European’s life: an underage Scottish lad who had trouble “operating while under the influence,” and Dave Fucking Choate. Not exactly the Chippendales, hm? Of course, I’ll leave it up to you, the BLOGWARS™ observer, to decide whether this phenomena reflects more poorly on the excommunicated princess of Mormonism herself, or moi, given that I was indeed spurned while the others were invited to taste the forbidden fruits of LDS love. It’s a toss-up.

Coupla small rants:

  1. Take the fucking tip jar out of Einstein Bros. bagel. That is a chain store. I am NOT going to tip you. That is ridiculous.
  2. This sonofabitch in my German Lit class had his cell phone go off for the fourth time this quarter. We’ve only met about 15 times, so he’s pushing >25%. And the little fuck couldn’t get it to turn off. Ever heard of silent mode, you worthless asslicking pothead?

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