.: The Girl :.
Name:Jessie
From::Los Angeles, California
I'm a twenty-something California native; a wanderer but not without direction.
Learn a little more about me
.: Recent Posts :.
September 11th
Untitled
Apparently, I'm Boring
How To Make A Statement
Michael Noer Is A Jackhole
We're All In It For Ourselves
Living With The Parents, Part II
And Just Like That... It's Gone
Living With The Parents, Part I
Sleepless In Seattle Syndrome
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.: Disclaimer :.
By visiting this site, you read at your own risk. I am known for errors in grammar and spelling. If you become less intelligent by reading this site, become incredibly bored, or are disgusted by what you read - you were warned. Furthermore, I will not be held responsible for ANY mental, emotional, physical, financial, or spiritual damage to you, your friends, your family or strangers. I apologize to my friends and family if I embarrass you. I reserve the right to edit any and all comments on this blog. I also reserve the right to humiliate you if you dare say anything negative about me, my friends, my family, or strangers who I like.
Friday, September 15, 2006
Captain ObviousHere’s how the recent phone conversation with my dad went:
“Hi Dad. Blair and I are going to the Dodger’s game on Monday night – do you think you could ask your friend, Mr. Smith, (who is the Dodger’s announcer) if he could show us around the announcer’s booth?”
“Oh, that’s right – I forgot. Yes, I’ll ask him today.”
“Thanks, Dad. …Do you want my direct phone number at work so you can call me back?”
“Uhh… sure. Hang on a minute, let me get a pen.” MY DAD IS A HIGH SCHOOL ART TEACHER. YOU WOULD THINK THAT HE WOULD HAVE WRITING UTENSILS AT HIS DISPOSAL.
“Okay, go ahead.”
“xxx-xxx-xxxx.”
“Okay, and that’s at XXX College?” I COULN’T RESIST… I CAME OUT WITH THE FIRST THING THAT CAME TO MIND.
“No, Dad. That’s my direct number for when I’m whoring around the streets of Hollywood.”
