Profile for lizbianajones:
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- a member for 20 years, 5 months and 24 days
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» The most childish thing you've done as an adult
Car rides...
Every time my mother and I ride in my brother's car (with leather seats) we have to sit together in the back. Every time he takes a turn, we slide across the seats yelling "WHEEEEEEE!!" and slam into eachother, even if it's just a slight curve in the road. We also have to slide forward and back every time the speed changes. My mother made up this game the very first time we rode with him. (She's 54 and I'm 25)
(Fri 18th Sep 2009, 2:36, More)
Car rides...
Every time my mother and I ride in my brother's car (with leather seats) we have to sit together in the back. Every time he takes a turn, we slide across the seats yelling "WHEEEEEEE!!" and slam into eachother, even if it's just a slight curve in the road. We also have to slide forward and back every time the speed changes. My mother made up this game the very first time we rode with him. (She's 54 and I'm 25)
(Fri 18th Sep 2009, 2:36, More)
» Shoddy Presents
Shit Present
My grandmother (devoutly catholic and more than a little nutty) gave my brother and I (not the most "respectable" people) an animated video about St. Francis of Assisi one Xmas. We sold it in a garage sale 3 years later, and that Xmas she gave the same tape to us. 5 years later (2 years ago) and we send it to the Salvation Army thrift shop and what do we get for Xmas....
Yep, you guessed it.
We now have it hidden in my parent's attic or some other such place.
First post, Woo!
(Sat 25th Sep 2004, 4:12, More)
Shit Present
My grandmother (devoutly catholic and more than a little nutty) gave my brother and I (not the most "respectable" people) an animated video about St. Francis of Assisi one Xmas. We sold it in a garage sale 3 years later, and that Xmas she gave the same tape to us. 5 years later (2 years ago) and we send it to the Salvation Army thrift shop and what do we get for Xmas....
Yep, you guessed it.
We now have it hidden in my parent's attic or some other such place.
First post, Woo!
(Sat 25th Sep 2004, 4:12, More)
» How I Skive Off Work
Mortuary Residents
I know that most mortuary residents think they have it so bad, but I love to dick around at work. It helps that I have two bosses who hate eachother.
When no-one's dead, I sit around and surf b3ta or other websites, or work on the novel I'm writing. I close the doors to the little back office, and if anyone comes in, they have to open two doors to get to me. I hear them on the first door, so I always have time to close whatever I'm playing on.
When we have "clients" I have to make the removals, and I have been known to take over an hour to remove a body from the hospital which is exactly two blocks from the funeral home. I also get the shit jobs like digging cremation graves and witnessing burials in the small, rural cemeteries.
I once had to bury cremains in a cemetery an hour away in Pennsylvania, and my boss gave me $20 to tip the grave digger. I spent the lot on beer and when I finally got to PA, it was raining like hell and I could barely get the van into the cemetery. I didn't see anyone there, so I simply dropped the urn in the hole and kicked some dirt on it. I passed the gravedigger on the way out, gave him a thumbs-up, and then went and bought a carton of cigs (they are infinetly cheaper in PA than in New York, where I live.) To finish the day, when I got back I "forgot" to wash the hearse, and hid in the morgue to smoke, saying that I wanted to "put the finishing touches on Mrs. L--'s makeup".
My final favorite thing to do is go to the town hall to file death certificates and spend an hour chatting with the older women there. They always have the best chocolate, and now that I'm 21, we go to the bar for our lunch breaks. Great fun!
(Thu 28th Apr 2005, 16:43, More)
Mortuary Residents
I know that most mortuary residents think they have it so bad, but I love to dick around at work. It helps that I have two bosses who hate eachother.
When no-one's dead, I sit around and surf b3ta or other websites, or work on the novel I'm writing. I close the doors to the little back office, and if anyone comes in, they have to open two doors to get to me. I hear them on the first door, so I always have time to close whatever I'm playing on.
When we have "clients" I have to make the removals, and I have been known to take over an hour to remove a body from the hospital which is exactly two blocks from the funeral home. I also get the shit jobs like digging cremation graves and witnessing burials in the small, rural cemeteries.
I once had to bury cremains in a cemetery an hour away in Pennsylvania, and my boss gave me $20 to tip the grave digger. I spent the lot on beer and when I finally got to PA, it was raining like hell and I could barely get the van into the cemetery. I didn't see anyone there, so I simply dropped the urn in the hole and kicked some dirt on it. I passed the gravedigger on the way out, gave him a thumbs-up, and then went and bought a carton of cigs (they are infinetly cheaper in PA than in New York, where I live.) To finish the day, when I got back I "forgot" to wash the hearse, and hid in the morgue to smoke, saying that I wanted to "put the finishing touches on Mrs. L--'s makeup".
My final favorite thing to do is go to the town hall to file death certificates and spend an hour chatting with the older women there. They always have the best chocolate, and now that I'm 21, we go to the bar for our lunch breaks. Great fun!
(Thu 28th Apr 2005, 16:43, More)
» Scars with history
Stupid little brother
When I was 6, I was sleeping on my mom's couch, when I was awakened by the most evil laugh I've ever heard. I opened my eyes to see my baby brother, who was 4 at the time standing over me holding a large, sharp chunk of brass. He grinned when I opened my eyes, then yelled "Die sucker, DIE!!" and proceded to hit me as hard as he could in the face with said piece of metal.
I screamed, jumped up, and ran into the bathroom where my mom was drying her hair after her shower. Mom just looked at me with blood gushing down my face, and said the imortal words "Oh, just hang your head over the side of the tub" and continued drying her hair. I had a shiner for school pictures that year, and I still have the scar in my right eyebrow.
I also have a scar that extends halfway up my right ring finger from raking it along a chain link fence while biking in the St. Jude's Bike-A-Thon the next year. We were a little over an hour from the nearest hospital, and I ended up riding with my best friend's grandmother, since it was faster than taking an ambulance.
I never even cried, but I learned that day that human fat looks just like chicken fat, which is a fact my mom could have lived without. Served her right for the way she had treated me the year before.
(Mon 7th Feb 2005, 18:43, More)
Stupid little brother
When I was 6, I was sleeping on my mom's couch, when I was awakened by the most evil laugh I've ever heard. I opened my eyes to see my baby brother, who was 4 at the time standing over me holding a large, sharp chunk of brass. He grinned when I opened my eyes, then yelled "Die sucker, DIE!!" and proceded to hit me as hard as he could in the face with said piece of metal.
I screamed, jumped up, and ran into the bathroom where my mom was drying her hair after her shower. Mom just looked at me with blood gushing down my face, and said the imortal words "Oh, just hang your head over the side of the tub" and continued drying her hair. I had a shiner for school pictures that year, and I still have the scar in my right eyebrow.
I also have a scar that extends halfway up my right ring finger from raking it along a chain link fence while biking in the St. Jude's Bike-A-Thon the next year. We were a little over an hour from the nearest hospital, and I ended up riding with my best friend's grandmother, since it was faster than taking an ambulance.
I never even cried, but I learned that day that human fat looks just like chicken fat, which is a fact my mom could have lived without. Served her right for the way she had treated me the year before.
(Mon 7th Feb 2005, 18:43, More)