The Dairy Bar

aka "The Armpit of Richmond." I worked there for the last month(ish) and despised every minute of it. So, ta da!, today I quit. Honestly, I make a lot of decisions that I am quite unsure about. This is not a decision I place in that category. Nothing has ever felt so right.

Ok, so the place really isn't all that bad. Just my boss' extremely bad temper. I made sure to make him aware of his lacking personality when I quit to which he responded "you can save your comments." As made evident through by my bank account status, I'm not a saver. I just had to mention there wasn't a person in that place who didn't want to rip out their hair after conversing with him. He didn't like that and sarcastically said "have a good day."

Then I shouted "Deuces, mothertrucka!" and as I walked out the building blew up and "Seven Nation Army" started to play.

Most of this story is true.

Rewind

I love finding old pictures. Stole this one from Blair's tumblr- don't know how she got it. Obviously the girl has skills.

Me and my three sisters with our friend Morgan- Sweetie's even there. Oh my, I miss my puppy. And my sisters!

Two Steps Back

I had to re-read this e-mail about five times. I still don't think that I'm reading it properly. I hope this is some sort of misunderstanding, though I fear it is not. What does this mean? Virginia's Attorney General wants us to discriminate? I don't get the point behind any of this.

Fat Frenchies

This is how I learned to say "My name is..." in French. Thank you, odd bootylicious gummybear.