Guys at work fall all over themselves to help out the dumb skinny chick (she's very very of both of those, but really incredibly nice too. To the point where I almost feel bad about being snarky... almost).
The dumb guys.. the smart guys... it doesn't matter.
The dick is a common denominator, apparently. A really fucking *low* common denominator.
I marked myself as a vocabularied freak today when I said that I would try to develop some credulity for Nick. He spent the rest of the day coming up with good big words and asking me if he was using them correctly. He got them all right except fortuitous. He thought it had something to do with fortitude.
Emily, the sort of scary leader tonight informed me that she's "heard about me" (in a good way). Either tell me who said nice things or bad things or don't bring it up at all. Not doing so makes me feel all... *watched* and *reported back about*.
Which just makes it all feel even more like a cult.
There's a guy who works in toys. He has bleach blonde hair and an eyebrow piercing. He mumbles as a way of being cool and laid back. He's so fucking annoying that everytime I see him I want to pick up whatever's close and hurl it at his big, overly tanned, overly bleached, fake fake wanna-be Puffy white boy dipshit philadelphia head.
And he wears A shirts and timberlands and a little white headband.
I'm downloading Skittish again so that I can burn it. I want to lay in bed and listen to Doughty tonight.