So... What's happening guys? I'm sitting here doing my homework and decided to write something short. Seeing as this is not really inspired, nor is it provoked, it is probably going to be dumb. I have nothing really relevant to say so I am just going to tell you a little about myself.
My name is Joe. I have a beautiful wife, whom I love dearly, three girl kids: Arielle (5), Connie (4), and Michelle (almost 1). They are what I work so hard for most days. There are days that I'm totally slacker. They are the reason I am in school now doing this crappy homework because, believe me, I would not be doing this for myself. We live in a little community where the the old people live on one side and the younger people live on the other. I have four cars right now which only 1.5 of them work. One has a bad transmission, one is leaking antifreeze so much that it is un-drivable, the half car's transmission works half of the time, and the truck works great. Of course the smallest vehicle we own, which can only fit two of five, works the best. I need to sell some of these things but finding a buyer in this city is tough. They come to look and "I'll give you $60". I reply "I'll give you $60 to get off my lawn. Don't insult me." I really don't like selling things. I never get quite what I want. I think I value them decently. I'm not trying to make my money back or anything.
On another topic, let me just say that when I'm on craigslist, I get so tired of people putting what they paid for the item in the description. Example:
"Sony fifty inch rear projection big screen. It has been very lightly used and is in perfect condition. I am also open to trades tools and things that go bang. I paid over 1600 new who ever ends up with this tv will be very happy with . Please include pictures of trades."
I don't flipping care how much you paid. Are you trying to tell me you want the full amount back? Do you want me to think that I'm getting a "good deal" on your 10 year old TV that you brought back to your cave on a dinosaur? "Yes sir! I will pay $1200 for your old junky TV. I see that you paid $1600 for it. Let me give you a little more. I feel bad that I'm getting such a good deal." I won't even talk about the character or the grammar of the poster. *Cough* Redneck *Cough* Maybe when I sell stuff, I should look real sad and tell people how much I paid for it. When they come and get it, maybe I should tatter my clothes a little. Maybe then I'll have better luck... I don't know. People are funny. I actually thought about taking a couple anthropology classes to figure people out but then decided I'm too scared to understand. Well, I think this has gone on long enough. Maybe next time I can write something more funny and less sarcastic, rude, cheeky, or whatever other adjective you want to use to describe this banter. And now I have ruined this perfectly nice post about my family and I. O well...
This is Rudy McRude *sigh*ing off....
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Do You know how to use one of those things?
Greetings readers
Well, today I kept thinking about a true story that happened to me and how I wanted to put it on my little diary thing here. Now it is insanely late so here we are. I have to wake up in about three hours but enough about that. Here goes.
My buddy Resstopher was here visiting us a couple years ago. He came from a far off land where things are big and apparently should not be messed with. Anyway, he brought his wife and 3 kids along, seeing how his wife is my wife's BF. (That's best friend, not boyfriend. Ya dig?) And when these certain friends visit, really weird crap happens to us... Well, we were all hungry and wanted pizza. So they "sent the guys out", which can be explained in another more anger filled blog why it's in quotes. So, we decide to go get a couple cheap Little Caesars pizzas. We stand in line hours because we went on a Friday night. When we get to the front, we get our pizza and I'm about to pay. Now here's where it gets a little fuzzy. I cannot remember if the girl behind the register was talking to me or Ross, but she said "Do you know how to use one of those things?" I look over to see what she's talking about and she's pointing at a big clock. I looked back at her and asked "that clock". She says "yes". I am utterly bewildered. (Do people really not know how to tell time? I thought that was something you learn in the first grade?) I look over at Russ and he's equally as shocked as me. He tells her the time because I am too dumbfounded to speak, we get our pizza and leave. Then we talked about it the whole way home. When we got home, we told our wives and everyone laughed at the expense of the poor underprivileged girl who could not tell time. How can you make it through life not knowing how to tell time? How did she know when to go home? How did she know when to leave for work? Does she always have to ask someone when she needs to know the time?
Yes. Ladies and gentlemen, this is the kind of stuff you will read about on this blog. Maybe it's not funny to some but for those it is funny to, I commend you for having a great sense of humor.
Ok. I'm tired now.
Farewell,
Joe
Well, today I kept thinking about a true story that happened to me and how I wanted to put it on my little diary thing here. Now it is insanely late so here we are. I have to wake up in about three hours but enough about that. Here goes.
My buddy Resstopher was here visiting us a couple years ago. He came from a far off land where things are big and apparently should not be messed with. Anyway, he brought his wife and 3 kids along, seeing how his wife is my wife's BF. (That's best friend, not boyfriend. Ya dig?) And when these certain friends visit, really weird crap happens to us... Well, we were all hungry and wanted pizza. So they "sent the guys out", which can be explained in another more anger filled blog why it's in quotes. So, we decide to go get a couple cheap Little Caesars pizzas. We stand in line hours because we went on a Friday night. When we get to the front, we get our pizza and I'm about to pay. Now here's where it gets a little fuzzy. I cannot remember if the girl behind the register was talking to me or Ross, but she said "Do you know how to use one of those things?" I look over to see what she's talking about and she's pointing at a big clock. I looked back at her and asked "that clock". She says "yes". I am utterly bewildered. (Do people really not know how to tell time? I thought that was something you learn in the first grade?) I look over at Russ and he's equally as shocked as me. He tells her the time because I am too dumbfounded to speak, we get our pizza and leave. Then we talked about it the whole way home. When we got home, we told our wives and everyone laughed at the expense of the poor underprivileged girl who could not tell time. How can you make it through life not knowing how to tell time? How did she know when to go home? How did she know when to leave for work? Does she always have to ask someone when she needs to know the time?
Yes. Ladies and gentlemen, this is the kind of stuff you will read about on this blog. Maybe it's not funny to some but for those it is funny to, I commend you for having a great sense of humor.
Ok. I'm tired now.
Farewell,
Joe
Saturday, February 12, 2011
WOW! I never thought I'd have a blog but here we are!
I'm not sure how to kick this thing off other than to say "Thank you for coming by". Why is it in quotes? Well, I actually said it out loud. It's actually a quote from me. I'm not sure how much I'll be posting on here but feel free to stop by once in a while. I have a lot of stories I'm planning on telling. Maybe some really interesting ones will pop up here and there. Ok BYE!
ROFL,
Joe
ROFL,
Joe
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