is it just me?

This morning I was driving baby Liz to daycare, and I notice a car with a bunch of stickers on the back one set of which spells 'bastard'. But the stickers are kind of tiny and (super safe mom driver that I am) I passed him before I could read them. And then. And then....I notice that there are much larger stickers on the side of his tiny toyota. They read "In my opinion Joseph Frederick Somethingorother Is Not My BASTARD Son either." WHAT? And then, in smaller font "I will pay for DNA test but they won't allow it." Holy hannah that is one of the craziest things I have ever seen. Remember - these are stickers. On his car. That he drives around in. You can see the guy, who actually looks kind of normal in a Madison sort of way, and here he wants to tell you and all the other commuters his very personal business. And I feel bad for Joseph whoever too, since there is a person in the world who is so desperate to prove that he is NOT his father that he spelled out a message about it on the side AND back of his car. Wow. What would you think if you worked with that guy? What do the drive thru bank tellers say about him when he drives away? How many accidents has he caused since people are momentarily dumbstruck after reading his car? Yikes. I think he needs to work on his anger issues.

TURKEY
We went bowling last night for girls' night out. Good times. Bowling is great. It's fun even if you aren't good at it, and bowling alleys are such deliciously tragic places. The beer, the bad food, the motley clientèle. I love it. Anyway, I had to laugh at the bartender who was thinking she was super cool and flirting with all her customers. So, I know being a bartender is kind of a cool job and being a chick bartender is maybe cooler, but being a chick bartender at a bowling alley on a Thursday? Not so high on the awesomeness list. Sorry. But, she was having a great time. But the best part was as we were finishing up bowling this really short, fat woman wearing a headset comes out and says "When you're all done bowling, join us in the bar for karaoke! It's going to be lots of fun!" hahaha. She was the karaoke DJ and she had this posterboard sign that said Troubadour Karaoke or something (it was all very 7th grade science project). How funny. If I had been in the mood to get totally wasted then maybe, just maybe, I could have gotten into it. But as was, I was definitely NOT participating in two bit bowling alley karaoke. haha.

However, it gave me a pleasant flashback to this restaurant I worked at one summer in college. The owners wanted to own a cool bar but the truth was our restaurant was tiny and located in a strip mall and was extremely optimistically named "Almost Paradise" which is most decidedly was not. Anyway, the owner decided that one way to attract bar patrons (which tend to be lucrative) was to have karaoke. So, we did. And lord was it awful. No one came. Maybe 4-5 people. And I would have to work until like 1am just for those people, none of whom even rang up huge bar tabs which is just about the only thing that would have made it worth it. There were these two guys, one black and one white, who would come in together every week. They introduced themselves (and I swear I am not making this up) as Elvis and Michael Jackson, and boy did they like to sing. A lot. We offered super cheap Michelob drafts, and Elvis would order one and MJ would have an iced tea and they would sit there all night and sing and sing and sing. It was excruciating. I used to beg them to let me at least drink while I was on shift, but it never worked. Ah, memories. Seems like just yesterday I was wearing that cheesy tropical colored t-shirt and trying to sell people on the Key West shrimp. RIP, Almost Paradise.

have a great weekend.