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jianantonicFirst off, I'm loving the book I'm reading now. It's called Moses, Man of the Mountain, by Zora Neale Hurston (I think that's how you spell it). It's historical fiction about Moses. It basically tells the story of what he's doing in all the gaps in time in the Bible. It's such a great story. It's still not as great a book as Confessions of a Failed Southern Lady by Florence King, but then again nothing is.
Anyhow, at work today, I checked in this guy, and he was all kinds of friendly, so I was all kinds of friendly right back. Then as he was leaving, he said, "How many of you are working today? I want to give you all free tickets to a party."
"Great," I say, "Six of us."
He hands me the tickets. "It's going to be a great party. I hope to see you there." Then he left.
I looked at the tickets, expecting to see some kind of gig at Highlawn or something, but I noticed right off they said "RSVP to Jesus Christ." It was an invitation to heaven. But it was totally decked out like a concert ticket. It was great. So I passed them out to everyone else who worked there, and Wayne didn't get it. He got it, kind of, but he still thought there was an actual party somewhere, and he wanted to know where so that he could get free food. Wayne was off his rocker today. He had a pimple and swore it was cancer. It's not. It was actually an ingrown hair. Christine removed it and we all had a grand time making fun of him about it. Then he stormed out all pissed off at me and Kathy for making fun of him. Oh well. He's fucked up.
Now it's time to spend some quality time with my husband (if he wakes up) and try to convince him to go into town with me. Wish me Indian food tonight.
Peace.
Anyhow, at work today, I checked in this guy, and he was all kinds of friendly, so I was all kinds of friendly right back. Then as he was leaving, he said, "How many of you are working today? I want to give you all free tickets to a party."
"Great," I say, "Six of us."
He hands me the tickets. "It's going to be a great party. I hope to see you there." Then he left.
I looked at the tickets, expecting to see some kind of gig at Highlawn or something, but I noticed right off they said "RSVP to Jesus Christ." It was an invitation to heaven. But it was totally decked out like a concert ticket. It was great. So I passed them out to everyone else who worked there, and Wayne didn't get it. He got it, kind of, but he still thought there was an actual party somewhere, and he wanted to know where so that he could get free food. Wayne was off his rocker today. He had a pimple and swore it was cancer. It's not. It was actually an ingrown hair. Christine removed it and we all had a grand time making fun of him about it. Then he stormed out all pissed off at me and Kathy for making fun of him. Oh well. He's fucked up.
Now it's time to spend some quality time with my husband (if he wakes up) and try to convince him to go into town with me. Wish me Indian food tonight.
Peace.
