Thank you, Recession, for forcing movie theaters to cut costs so that I can still have a little enjoyment between pulling my hair out every time I look at my bank account. (Because pretty soon I’m gonna need a weave.)
Thank you, Recession, for forcing movie theaters to cut costs so that I can still have a little enjoyment between pulling my hair out every time I look at my bank account. (Because pretty soon I’m gonna need a weave.)
I ate a fabulous brunch the other day at a restaurant I’d never been.
Service was great, food was even better. Overall, it was a party in my tummy. With helium tanks and all.
That is, until, I was walking out the door only to be bombarded with merchandise.
The Swine Flu? Really?
This sounds like some stupid plot in some 1980’s Arnold Schwarzenegger movie.
Poor, corrupt Gov. Blagojevich. He can’t seem to catch a break.
If you haven’t heard, and whether or not you care, a Blago got DE-NIED.
He hoped to be granted permission to go to paradise, aka Costa Rica ( I went there recently–it’s almost too beautiful) to be part of the NBC reality show, “I’m a Celebrity…Get Me Out of Here.”
Can’t find a job? Or are you a whiny bitch and just want a better one? (Totally acceptable, by the way.)
Move to Texas and all your problems will be solved.
(Added Bonus: You can walk around in ass-less chaps.)
Tipping is how people in the service industry make a living. I get it, I’ve been there and back. But does scanning an item and telling me my total fall into the service category? I say no.