Last night I sashayed shanted myself to the Style Weekly Very Richmond party. It was loads of fun but the highlight of the evening was seeing the infamous Meade Skelton perform not one, not two but three songs. He crooned his heart out and ended it with my fav “Hipsters Ruin Everything” because you know, when you think about it, they really do. After his rousing performance I even got to shake his hand and give him a hug Café Darkness style! Squee! I think he gave my glass of wine the stink eye, though. Sorry, it’s not Cheerwine, Meade.
Did you know you’re very Richmond if you have a blog and think you’re way more clever than you really are? It’s true! Take me for example. I think I’m funnier than I am in reality. I also abhor nuts in my sweet treats, bed and breakfasts, and the word “sprout” but that’s another story all together!
My one-way ticket to hell was signed, sealed and delivered this morning when I could barely contain my laughter as a coworker described a party she went to last week. She said she ran into an old friend who was having a grand ole time dancing and laughing and taking pictures like bananas with his girlfriend. In between cutting a carpet, she said that he told her he had to be on dialysis three times a week and used to be homeless. I could barely get out the question between the tears to please explain and let me get this straight; I can’t pay a guy to take me out to get a god damn Wendy’s combo number 3 but a fucking ex-hobo with busted kidneys is getting laid on the regs? Nice. I’m still chuckling, by the way.
My manager is on a cruise this week. I’m glad she can afford to go on vacation, because I sure as shit can’t. (HIRE ME!) In typical TLW style I am taking full advantage of the lack of supervision by coming in an hour late, taking two hour lunches and bouncing early as a mofo. This has been the best week ever.