ask and you shall receive

so i was hanging around this liquor and wine store a few nights ago. i know. i know. what would a nice girl like me be doing in a place like that. i think the only logical explanation is that i'm trouble with a capital t, which i won't actually use here since we all know why. anyway, an interesting scenario unfolded before my very eyes during this liquor store excursion and since it's 2008 and i'm kinda bored, i have decided to share the tale of 'crazy liquor store man' with all of you.

i parked my decent rental car and headed inside to locate our old new friend, jim beam black. as i was carefully treading/holding my over sized belt-less pants up while crossing the ice sheet/parking lot, i heard a bit of a commotion to my left. you may or may not know this about me, but i don't react to commotions or bells or beeps or whistles or anything like that. i continued on.

now, when the commotion starts to reach "levels", obviously i'm going to become more and more curious and probably sneak a peak. luckily for me, and you, the man at the root of the commotion was highly animated, highly obnoxious, and was clutching a small brown wiener dog, football style. i had no choice but to watch his route as he shouted profanities whilst marching into oncoming cars, across a sheet of parking lot ice. 'crazy liquor store man' (or clm) stepped in front of a red solara and shouted at the driver to stop. i believe it was something like, "you will stop! i am a pedestrian! i have the right of way! this is bullsh*t!". he continued on as i stayed back to create a buffer between myself and the crazy. this is when i noticed that he was entering the store i was planning to enter. so i thought to myself, "maybe i should abort. the last thing i need is to get held up at gunpoint while i'm out of town." then i thought, "he's clutching a small dog. there's no way this could go south. proceed."

i walk into the store to find him chastising the two middle-aged women running it. they are not surprised nor upset by his presence. in fact, this is their second encounter with him on the night. he's shouting stuff and things regarding this being his second trip and having to drive all the way down here again, blah, blah, i hate you, you're horrible at your job, xyz, my girl didn't do "nothing" wrong... he was belligerent and clearly a zealot. the women dismissed him and asked him to never return, ever, again. i believe the one said, "you're 86'd. don't ever come back." he flew out the door, dog in arm, and disappeared into the night.

when i walked up to pay for my friend, the ladies felt it necessary to debrief me on the experience we had just shared. clm had been in earlier with a chick. she did not have id. everyone must have id to enter the store. they asked clm and chick to leave. they were pissed. later, clm's *wife* shows up to make the purchase that is apparently for clm and his gf, who may or may not have been underage. later still, clm shows up again with small brown wiener dog to publicly berate employees.

so that's what i have for you. it's not much and you may disagree with me when i say that it was pretty exciting for a tuesday night, but i'm blogging and that's what's really important here. all i know is that i must be missing large chunks of the saga because i do not see why one would feel compelled to grab the dog and haul it "all the way back down to the gd liquor store" for the purposes of a negatively charged outburst regarding both your wife and girlfriend's alcohol needs. let me know if you have ideas on ways to fill in the blanks here. my crazy liquor store man is your crazy liquor store man.

and another thing - vodka left me karen walker-y. beer left me full and without buzz. wine turned my teeth blue and gave me heartburn. but bourbon and blended scotch whiskey, well they appear to just make me a more playful, content shade of... me. might be worth a look. discuss amongst yourselves.

it's like a prison break over here

i have finally reached the point where twitter just isn't getting the job done on its own anymore. i need to be more verbose and luxuriate in my words, here, all over our internet connections. how lucky for you to get lumped into this with me. i feel the need for word vomit - don't be grossed out. last time i checked, word vomit was the best kind to have all over you.

i want to say things like artful dodger, annette funicello, gibson les paul, frosty the snowman, and gorgonzola, simply because i can and don't have to concern myself with being confined to a measley cell that's 140 characters wide. mary poppins. orange juice. axl rose. there, i just wasted space with literally nothing and it felt amazing. seriously. it feels like i just broke out of a really cute, witty, fun, tiny prison. whew. david bowie. belgium. this is fantastic. the fresh air is excellent out here, my friends. let's drink it in together. mmmmm. wait, top mine off with some bourbon. ok. now i'm ready.

deep breaths. go.

sheesh

some people can be very manipulative (that's you, random commenters as of late). and because you have been deprived of my fantasticalness for so long, i have stopped in to wish you a merry one. or two. or three. whatever. just don't let me find you with your head in a toilet during this most wonderful time of the year (sharda). maybe if you're caught being really nice, i'll start posting again... but knowing you people, that's just not gonna happen is it. enjoy!

i've been lax

and, this is still not me posting a real post.

i was just in my gmail, composing email, when i noticed something peculiar. maybe you won't think it's peculiar. i think it is. i guess it's because i can't help but wonder, "how am i not somehow involved with this?"

i do not cheat on people or things, usually

i mean, i'm not married and i don't have an official boyfriend so i can't cheat. i don't have anyone to cheat on. except for like, now. i feel like i've been cheating on my blog with twitter.com. please go check it out if you don't know what it is yet. it's like a blog except not quite. after a few weeks of use, i've decided that it's a lite blog that you post one-liners to from your phone via text (from anywhere) and it's awesome. you can talk to yourself in your text messages. how cool is that?

i'm in there via rachel fitzwater. my address is below. and fyi, there's nothing to "get". once you go to the site and read some stuff, you'll be all logical and question what the h you're looking at. but don't do it. it's literally nothing. you just talk to yourself while others read it from a far and instead of composing a blog post, you can just text one in from the old cellular telephone. do it, people. it's fun.

http://twitter.com/rachelfitzwater

i want to live in the tbs show 'my boys'. pretzels are good.

stuff and things

now that i'm feeling a little better, i would like to say a few words about max. he was one of the greatest animals that will ever walk the planet and he was my oldest friend. we were pals for 15 years. i'm about to turn 30 so our time together equates to half of my life. after i heard the news, i wasn't sure what to do so i pretty much did nothing. for hours. later that day, i hugged a box of his milkbones for 2 minutes because i still had them in my cabinet next to the cheerios and hugging that box made sense because obviously i could never hug him again. i miss him a lot. it's hard to lose your dog.

so thanks to the friends who left kind sympathy in my comments. for jeremy, i'm still debating whether or not to ban you from commenting here in honor of max. max would've given jeremy a kiss to get him to stop doing something he didn't like. i may ban him from commenting. we will see. i may change my mind and do what max would've done (and be nice, not actually kiss jeremy).

on to other matters. remember this one? well, it's been backfiring. i'm being passively stalked via text message and it's effed up. you see, he's kind of a d-bag. i told the kid i just wanted to be friends after he started being mentally young and an idiot. and also, he's bored/boring and alone in a new town so... you do the math. i generally get a text at the most inopportune of moments and it's generally inappropriate. i think it's because he's a d-bag. i tried to snap a picture of the one i received last night but my camera couldn't capture it in the way we needed for this medium. it's inappropriate and dumb because a) we never did it and b) we never talk. it goes like this (and i quote):

d-bag: wanna have sex later

me: ew. no

rest in peace, little max.