Because bad taste is better than no taste at all.....

Monday, October 22, 2012

#262: Dear Fundie: Go suck a sweet potato.

Obviously it pissed you off that I wouldn't stop and talk church with you. Of course, it just was just as obvious that I was a bit rushed at the time, having to run two different registers (at opposite ends of the building, one up front, one in the first drive thru window), as well as taking drive thru orders.
I'm guessing you aren't very observant to have not seen all this, as well as having missed seeing my coworker (who was supposed to be helping) hiding in the corner, texting on her phone (if anyone needs the "church talk", it'd be her... LOL)
Oh, but you made it all better by leaving a nice piece of paper on the counter. Uhm, if I can't stop to have a long, drawn out conversation with you, what makes you think I'm going to stop and read a piece of paper?
....You do realize those things end up in the trash within 5 minutes of you leaving, yes?
I'm trying to come up with a new word. One that means "unwanted religious literature" or "Unwanted proselytizing". Religibombing? Biblebomb? Open to suggestions.

This happens almost. Every. Single. Sunday.  One reason I *hate* working that day. And I usually end up working that day.  What is irritating is that the aforementioned coworker was just bitching today how she wanted more hours, yet when I brought up the subject of her maybe filling in either Saturday or Sunday (See, I'm not suggesting she give up her *whole* weekend), she's all like, "Wellll...I don't know, we were going to do something one of those days..." Stupid bitch, you can't have it both ways.

So today Dent brought home two whole bushels of sweet potatoes. He bought them off a coworker, who works on a farm as a second job. These are HUGE sweet potatoes, and they "aren't even the biggest ones, we haven't gotten to THAT field yet!" So now we have enough sweet potatoes to last a while. We've kept some, and the rest are being stored down at the landparents (they have a nice, cool basement to store them properly in). Now I gotta find all my sweet potato recipes.

Basil the spider is now the proud mommy of like a billion little baby spiders.  I kinda figured all the babies would have left, but there are still a few hanging around. They're little teeny tiny little brown specks. Mom is still there, too.  I haven't posted a recent picture, partially since I know some of you folks are a bit squeamish about creepy crawlies, and partially because they don't show up real well on the camera.  I'm hoping they go off into hibernation soon, so that I can trim back the basil plant....

Aye,
Scratch

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