Friday, June 24, 2011

I didn't mean it like that, I swear

Well, while Quin has been arrested in a true show of how hardcore he is, I've dealt with less life changing events. In reality it was just one thing for me. My waitress was weird.

No, not like that. She wasn't adorable, enlightening weird.

Like this. See, isn't that bump cute?

She was dark things in my closet weird. She was creature lurking in the depths of the shadows weird. I hadn't seen something this socially awkward since my early days in junior high when all the kids were going through the twisted world of what-puberty-can-fuck-my-life-up-with-next. To make matters worse, in most cases of this type of weird you at least don't have to deal with the socially awkward facial damage.

See that? You can never say anything about that. If you bring the obvious up you will be banned from society forever. They'll leave you to rot in a dark cave they normally dub 'insensitive', or sometimes 'you're-a-douche', where you'll eventually turn into the super nerd as you resort to spending all your free time on the internet.

You can never mention that. No matter what. I think they show them off to fuck with me.

The social freaks were spared of these more obvious freak marks because some divine pity deemed it too dangerous for polite conversation/possibly awkward body language moments. Which were totally on accident. I swear.

But no. Not on this day. On this particular June eve I won the fucked up girl lottery and got both.

Like this. Only uglier.

She was wounded. Socially odd, and wounded. I really thought it couldn't get any worse than this when all I had intended to do was go out and have waffles at five in the afternoon with a date, until I noticed that the other waitresses and cook staff were all giving our wounded waitress the stare down while she took our order.

The were looking at this poor awkward woman so hard that I came to the only reasonable conclusion I could. Our waitress was odd enough that it had already brought conversation at my table to a grinding halt and I sat there stewing for several long moments before I felt the need to try and save everything. I was a small talk hero. I was totally on my game. I could do this. So, when our poor waitress walked away I leaned over to my friend and attempted what I like to call humor.

Now, this seemed as natural a joke to me as breathing, but obviously my friend was more of a tender sorts.

This is actually pretty close to what his face looked like.

In other words, I'm pretty sure the guy was wondering why they let me go out in public. Which lead to endless pregnant silence as we ate our waffles. This dragged out over the entire meal until we muttered farewells while the beaten waitress took our money and looked horribly over grateful to get a tip at all.

I suppose I could have brought up the fact that the Japanese have been able to make meat out of human feces as a way to lighten to meal, but it didn't really seem like dinner conversation anyone would approve of. Plus, I'd already scared away yet another person in the world, no reason to leave the too terrified to go outside for the rest of their life. I did, however, take a look over my shoulder as we both left to head out separate ways and got a good look at the restaurant windows.

I'll never get this image out of my head.

Sometimes I think life is out to sabotage my chances at dating. Really.

Ronas out.

PS. Our art today is thanks to my hero, Cupcake Fingers.

Monday, June 6, 2011

China fucking scares me

So I haven't been doing much by way of entries, and I'll explain that in another post. Let's just say high heels tried to kill me and then I decided it'd be awesome to rapid fire wound myself like I was some sort of emo child on a coffee bender.

BUT, some things are too good to pass up. For that, I'm posting the following conversation with our very own crab battle star.


The Ronas: Quin. Look. The Chinese are fucking decapitated heads.

The Ronas: Tell me why.

Quin: uh.

Quin: i.

Quin: uh.

Quin: I...

Quin: I don't...

Quin: Uh.

The Ronas: TELL

The Ronas: ME

The Ronas: WHY

Quin: Wut

Quin: I... dont.

The Ronas: I'm sorry, we were talking about penises? (my god.)

Quin: I...

Quin: old on.

Quin: Im tryi gn to prete d wat you just sent me isnt real

The Ronas: So are the other four people I sent it to.

Also, for those of you who don't know, the last guest entry was done by a good friend of mine named Galen. Who swears he's not gay and tends to be totally hilarious. He's also picked on me for days about giving Quin's post an introduction but not saying anything about gay porn. What was there to say?

I mean, I'm down with gays just as much as the next person. Really. I swear. I just don't watch them... You know. Do it. No hate.

Either way. There. I did the introduction. A few weeks late. Stop picking on me about it. (Galen's kind of emo, but I bet he won't mess with the woman who has the blog NOW. I feel empowered.)

I'll post something real later. I swear.

As soon as I get over the Chinese.

Ronas Out