Cleaning out my mental in box...
I found Martha! Martha the cleaning lady was featured in a commercial by the Farm Bureau (or State Farm Insurance in my failing memory) before each Indiana University basketball game broadcast. This was back in the day when IU basketball was dynomite and I quite possibly had feathered hair. Anyway, students were assigned home game tickets via lottery which due to the demand at the time meant you only got 4 or 5 tickets a season and the rest of the games you watched on TV with Martha leading off the broadcast singing the Indiana fight song.
I remember one season she made a live appearance in Assembly Hall with her bucket and apron and the crowd went insane--I still get goosebumps thinking about it. (Okay remember the winters were long and cold back in Bloomington in those days and the weed wasn't as half as potent as it is today.)
I learned today a new word today-altocelarophobia. Who knew folks had this phobia?
Didn't I warn you people about Inaugural Ball scams?
My friends are mocking my Slap Chop. Whatever. As the infomercial promises I've noticed that I'm in a great mood all day because I'm slapping my troubles away with my Slap Chop. In fact I am slapping it right now.
Tonight's menu: "Tacos, Fettuccine, Linguine, Martini, Bikini."
Once they see my nuts they'll be sorry I didn't purchase an additional one for $9.95.
To the person who stored 20 plus boxes in my basement in 1999, contacted me less than 5 times over the years and returned only last week to pick them up to haul them to Colorado, I did not lie when I said I didn't know where your freaking overhead projector was. Who uses overhead projectors any more anyway? Did you plan on climbing into your Way Back Time Machine to teach High School Geometry in 1981?
Two years ago I threw your nasty, rusting overhead projector away. It made a wonderfully satisfying shattering noise when I tossed in a nearby construction dumpster. Not being an expert in DC construction site disposal rules, I can say with good conscience I don't know exactly where your overhead projector is.
It would have been nice though, to concentrate on the 20 + boxes remaining that I preserved over the years. Offering me a gift card or something would have been a graceful touch, an acknowledgment that you taken advantage of my good nature and space for years. Even a profuse apology would have helped defrost the coldness of the exchange. Instead you chose to quiz my tenant who was helping you haul your crap out if he had seen the overhead projector which really just proved what a self absorbed D-bag you are.
Oh and thanks for leaving the old tire in the corner. Who knows when I might purchase a 1985 Dodge van and need an extra tire?