22 Feb

It has truly become a full time job for me to block stupid applications on Facebook. I don’t need to play Mafia Wars or Cafe World for entertainment–I have hundreds of skanks and people from high school who I hate and got REALLY fat to stalk. If I feel like playing computer games, I’ll peruse Yahoo, not download two dozen virus-like Facebook applications that pollute my page AND publish stories on everyone else’s news feeds informing them how big of a douche I am for finally earning the Garden Award on Farmville. Farmville actually made the NEWS a couple weeks ago. I still don’t know what it is. Apparently it’s like Sim City, but with corn and bovine. According to those who play it, it’s very addicting. I just don’t see how planting virtual fields of soybean and pretending to fill troughs with water for sheep online is that stimulating, but then again, I have a brain.

And a life.

Day 3 of the Midwest White Out continues. It has snowed nonstop for over 72 hours. Mother Nature is not messing around. There are piles of snow taller than a semi on my street. Had this been ten years ago, I’d be wearing a onesie and a scarf, bolting out the front door with my sled to find the biggest hill around. Now I’m too lazy to do that, so I sit inside instead and stare out the window and eat leftovers from my Christmas feast. I’ve got cabin fever though, folks. Get me a Bobcat with a plow, somebody. I need to battle my way through the snow toward entertainment, aka a drink or six, or at least just get out of the house. My mom suggested we take a voyage through the snow to go to the mall and exchange a gift or two (she got me a coat made entirely out of zebra print….it was too much. I told her this). This seemed like a fine idea, so I googled The Mall of the Bluffs to check their holiday hours. The first thing my eyes fell upon on their website was their slogan, which read:

The Mall of the Bluffs: Exciting shopping, dining and entertainment in Council Bluffs, Iowa.

…Okay. This is like advertising real estate in Iraq: “Iraq: Tranquility, Peace, and Relaxation.”

Exciting shopping. No. The only stores remaining in this building are Old Navy, Yankee Candle, and East India Treasures. This combination is about as exciting as a root canal. Until you’ve got an Express, a White House|Black Market, or at LEAST a Target, do not advertise yourself as “exciting.”

Exciting dining. This is true, if you consider eating an Arby’s 5 for 5 on a sticky cafeteria chair with half a dozen wads of gum stuck to the bottom in the middle of a dirty food court while watching groups of 13 year-olds who have nothing better to do than have their moms drop them off at the mall to go in and out of Hot Topic all day “exciting.”

Entertainment. The only thing even mildly entertaining in the Mall of the Bluffs are the legally retarded and morbidly obese security guards, and even that novelty wears off within seconds. I’m sorry, but not even Aladdin’s Castle falls into this category. Once you’ve played Star Wars Pinball once, you’ve played it a thousand times. And no matter how many bouncy balls or fake tattoos you win, it’s never going to be “entertaining.”

When are they going to burn this place down? Sure, I’ve got plenty of memories there from Taco John’s and all (what little I remember of them anyway. We made drinking on the job cool before it was popular), but all it’s doing now is taking up space, and tricking overweight white trash single moms with bad high lights and nicotine addictions into thinking that they’re going to become nurses by attending “Kaplan University” next to Sears. Sigh. Iowa.

I hate automated answering systems. How many minutes of my life have been wasted waiting for the fifty options to reach different extensions before I can press a certain number to actually talk to a HUMAN? This boils my blood. No matter how small your issue, you will never get it solved until you speak to a person. Let’s cut the crap. Go ahead and connect me to Carla at customer service and stop wasting my life.

Anyway, time to pack my shtuff. I don’t want to do this. Someone come do it for me. I’ll pay you in baked goods. Crates of it.


Jamie: “I’m young for my grade.”
Cassie: “Me too.”
Jamie: “Yeah, but you don’t look like it though. I look like I’m 12.”
Cassie: “No you don’t.”
Jamie: “Okay, 15.”
Cassie: “Yeah.”


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