Karma
Sue Denham writes, "I once slipped out of work two hours early without the boss noticing. In my hurry to make the most of this petty victory, I knocked myself out on the car door and spent the rest of the day semi-conscious, bowking rich brown vomit over my one and only suit."
Have you been visited by the forces of Karma, or watched it happen to other people?
Thanks to Pooflake for the suggestion
( , Thu 21 Feb 2008, 14:24)
Sue Denham writes, "I once slipped out of work two hours early without the boss noticing. In my hurry to make the most of this petty victory, I knocked myself out on the car door and spent the rest of the day semi-conscious, bowking rich brown vomit over my one and only suit."
Have you been visited by the forces of Karma, or watched it happen to other people?
Thanks to Pooflake for the suggestion
( , Thu 21 Feb 2008, 14:24)
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Wedding Dances
I used to play in a band for wedding dances -- mostly oldies and country to keep the elderly relatives doing the polka and headache-free 'til 10 p.m.. The idea was to play what would keep the person signing the check happy.
Wherever we played, there was always one 20-something guy that hassled the band all night "Play Freebird!" and "AC/Fekkin'DC!!" Or they'd launch into a long conversation about "Whassh weh shoulbbd plarry" in the middle of a song -- all the while, fumbling a drink over electronics that cost more than their 9 years of college loans.
The party ended and everyone went somewhere else. We finished tearing down to an empty room.
I stopped by the can on the way out and there was our music critic. He was sleeping it off under the urinals, covered with his own puke and quite a few people's piss.
And no, I didn't piss on him -- or offer to help. I figured that he and I and the universe were "even" at that point.
Length: Not enough to reach the urinal from the floor.
( , Tue 26 Feb 2008, 17:48, Reply)
I used to play in a band for wedding dances -- mostly oldies and country to keep the elderly relatives doing the polka and headache-free 'til 10 p.m.. The idea was to play what would keep the person signing the check happy.
Wherever we played, there was always one 20-something guy that hassled the band all night "Play Freebird!" and "AC/Fekkin'DC!!" Or they'd launch into a long conversation about "Whassh weh shoulbbd plarry" in the middle of a song -- all the while, fumbling a drink over electronics that cost more than their 9 years of college loans.
The party ended and everyone went somewhere else. We finished tearing down to an empty room.
I stopped by the can on the way out and there was our music critic. He was sleeping it off under the urinals, covered with his own puke and quite a few people's piss.
And no, I didn't piss on him -- or offer to help. I figured that he and I and the universe were "even" at that point.
Length: Not enough to reach the urinal from the floor.
( , Tue 26 Feb 2008, 17:48, Reply)
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