inappropriate exclamation of the day
back when i used to leave the house on a regular basis, this sort of occurrence was common enough to populate (overpopulate) a blog. you'd think with the infrequency of these exclamations, they would get less and less vile. Not the case, my friend. Instead, it's like capping a smokestack. She's gotta blow at some point, heh,
Manager: Andy's feedback was awesome wasn't it? He's so great about that kind of thing.
DH in Consultant Mode: Oh my gosh, when I read his email, I totally wanted to blow him.
Manager: So yeah, I don't think there's any rush; we don't have anything urgent going out.
Sometimes I can't find the right words to convey my excitement over a small work issue. In those times, apparently I feel the need to resort to 5th grade playground talk. Except, I wish I could have really taken it full-tilt.
DH: When I saw his email, I totally wanted poop on his face then make him lick my butt and put a baloney sandwich on his junk so I could eat it off then puke it up and make him lick up while i run around yelling Dame mas gasolina!
or something. god, 5th grade playground talk provided like the most innocently grotesque and confounding explanations of sexual acts ever. i suppose it's because the thought of what people actually do was just as absurd as anything my little mind could come up with -- i just put it on all the same basket of EWWW.
'Basket of Eww' sounds like something i would've come up with then too.