Stairs are a Challenge

"Sarah, what happened to your knee? Those bruises are awful."

"I feel down the stairs."

"Again?!"

"I don't think again is necessarily the right word. They were different stairs this time."

"Where?"

"At work. The heel of my shoe got caught on my cuffed jeans and before I knew it I was falling."

"That totally sucks. Did anyone see you?"

"No one that matters, just some asshole that happened to be walking down the stairs too. He moved aside and let me fall."

"What a jerk, have you dated or something?"

"No... not yet."

I'm hated. Or had.

When harassing people through text messaging please remember spelling is key. Otherwise the recipient (me, in this case) is left scratching their head in wonderment.

A Sweet 78

The building manager of my office is a heat Nazi. I'm a wuss when it comes to the cold, but when even my clients are complaining, there's definitely a problem. When asked today why the AC was on he replied, "That it is warm and sunny outside." BASTARD!

So this will be the extent of my evening:

Street Trash

Dear Asshole in the red Toyota Landcruiser,

Putting a sticker on your vehicle that reads: "I think it was a mistake to give women the right to vote," just shows what a prick you really are. Also, smoking a cigar while driving at 8:30 AM doesn't help your image.

I'm trying to be more careful with my karma, but will risk it when I say, "I hope you burn in hell."

Regards,
Sarah

Morons with Markers

So many things in life make my insides curl: whipped cream, midget porn, blonde's who insist on coloring the bottom layer of their hair black, watching Ben eat a pastrami burger while wearing pleated khaki pants, and now this bathroom graffiti.