Monthly Archives: July 2005

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Actual Craigslist posting:

Midget Needed This Tuesday: I have a special event planned for this coming Tuesday and I need a midget to serve drinks. This could lead to a permanent position… Must be over 21.

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Outside C&O Trattoria:

Guy: That’s an Italian restaurant, right?

Other Guy: They serve spaghetti, don’t they?

Guy: When Freida and I went there, we ate pasta.

Other Guy: …

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While thinking about starting my new job tomorrow, I came to a philosophical conclusion about my life. It’s like a revolving restaurant, only without the spinning or the vomiting. That comes later.

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I’d have blogged about RHPS when I got in, but it was four in the morning and us old people need our sleep.

There was a much larger crowd last night than the last time, and nearly everyone was dressed up. There was lingerie, hosiery and exposed body parts galore! The lady next to me was wearing a great pair of pink gogo boots. Trixie thought she looked so great that she gave her a Hershey’s kiss.

After we got split up into Boy/Girl lines for security searching purposes, I found myself standing next to Ozzy. Or was I? He looked like Ozzy, but wouldn’t the real Ozzy come to the show with a couple of people for security reasons? If he looked like the real Ozzy, and it’s LA, he might BE the real Ozzy. “Ozzy” looked over at me and adjusted his crotch, so I quit staring.

Once inside, I went to the ladies’ room. As I came out of the stall, a woman in a green fishnet top saw me and said, “You’re really hot.” I laughed and thanked her while I washed my hands. She continued, “No, really. You’re hot.” Another woman said, “Yeah, I love your bodysuit.”

Of course, I had to get a photo of the green fishnet top lady during the Virgin Sacrifice.

I found her number in my purse this morning.

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While I was at the local sex shop buying an outfit to wear to tonight’s midnight screening of Rocky Horror Picture Show, I saw an old guy walk up to the clerk and ask if they offered a “Senior Discount”.

There really should be an obvious joke in there somewhere.

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You know you shop at a classy Ralph’s when a patron parks a Ferrari in the lot.

You know you shop at a classy Ralph’s when this is the sort of bamboo planter they have on offer.

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Me: The latest BBC America contest prize is a trip to London, $500 in spending money, and a chance to “party like you’re married to a footballer”.

Brian: Like you’re married to a footballer? Does that mean you’re lobotomized and you give your kids ridiculous names and get you beat up in bars in Paris?

Me: Under “Prize” in the Sweepstakes Rules, it says the trip is to “London, England, in Great Britain”. It’s nice of them to be specific like that.

Brian: Well, it’s aimed at an American audience.

Me: It also says all meals are the responsibility of the winner. How am I supposed to party like I’m the wife of a footballer if I’m counting out change in front of the chip wagon in the street?

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Tip: Don’t use bleach for cleaning the sink while you’re wearing your nice navy blue t-shirt.