It’s Holly

Really, I am.

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For some odd reason, people in Japan think I’m a bitch. Well, not really. http://image.baidu.com classifies me as a bitch, but that’s my own doing. If you look to the right —–>, you’ll see the words “it’s holly, bitch”, which link to pictures of yours truly. I guess “bitch” caught some japanese robot’s attention, and I’m officially the second result for the word “bitch” at http://image.baidu.com. Stank you, smelly much.

I love (and by love, I mean absolutely hate) working with people that love pointing out your mistakes or love finding something wrong with what you’ve done. Sometimes, I’ll admit, these people have caught my mistakes, and I’m thankful that they were pointed out to me. Sometimes, people just wanna tell you that you fucked up. They see that typo or that wrong link and get a glimmer in their eye and just CAN’T WAIT to tell you you almost fucked everythign up for everybody. But more times than not, they’re just flat out wrong. And when they’re wrong, I get that little glimmer in my eye ’cause I can’t WAIT to tell them they’re fucking idiots. Of course, being the sweet, chubby girl, I laugh it off, but inside, the fat girl is angry.

——–
Person I Hate Loathe: Holly, the images don’t show up.

Holly: They’re there.

Person I Hate Loathe: Are you sure? Because they’re not showing up.

Holly: Just refresh.

Person I Hate Loathe: They’re still not showing up.

Holly: Remember, ::insert sweet chubby girl chuckle:: this happened last time, too! You’re browser is just cached.

Person I Hate Loathe: Really? They’re not there ye— oh, there they are.

Holly: Yup ::biting tongue::
——–

The first time it happens, it’s understandable. But twice? TWICE, really? Are you REALLY asking me this… AGAIN? I hope you die. I wish nothing but ancient Chinese water torture for you and your offspring and you offspring’s offspring (if natural selection hasn’t already elminated your defective, cousin-loving inbred gene pool). Okay, I don’t want you to die. But a little suffering would be nice on my part, for the mindnumbing hell you put me through. Stank you.

I forgot to blog about this.

My sister and I went to Panera Bread for lunch one day, and I got the Fuji Apple Chicken Salad, which, btw, is a WASTE OF FUCKING TIME considering is has more fat and calories than half the shit on the menu. Whatev.

Anywho…

I finished about half of my salad and wanted to take the rest to go. I went up to the counter and asked the girl for a box…

Holly: Hi, excuse me… can I have a box, please?
Blonde twit : Sure!!!
::thinking to myself “Wow, she’s way to happy to be working at Panera Bread” ::
Blonde twit : Here ya go!!!
::She hands me a paper bag with piece of Panera branded wax paper inside.. the kind they use for sandwiches::
Holly: Actually, I needed a box.
Blonde twit: Ooh, I’m sorry! We don’t have boxes. Just bags.
Holly: Do you do “to go” orders?
Blonde twit: We sure do!
Holly : Do you do your salads to go?
Blonde twit: Yup!!
Holly: What do those salads come in?
Blonde twit: We put them in boxe…oooh!!! Let me get you a container.
::Holly gets container, says thank you::

I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that I had to distinguish between BOX and CONTAINER. And I didn’t realize that by saying “Can I have a box” meant “Can I have a paper bag and a piece of wax paper”. There must be a secret Panera language that I don’t know about. I wonder if Babelfish has a Panera translator…

I’d like to thank Kelly for reminding just how fuckin’ dope “The Love Below” portion of the Outkast CD is.

Forever and ever, Ahhhmen, I’m sorry… Ahhhhlady.

Last night at the House of Blues was fantastical. Scrumtralescent, if you will. Why, you ask? Because of the fine ass man on the left of this text, that’s why. It was a great show. Never in my life will standing for 5 hours straight be so worth it than to see this man closeup and personal. We were so close to the stage, he was practically sweating on us, which I had NO problem with. At all. So in the middle of his set he starts talking about God and love and peace and what not, so I throw up my hand and say (in my friendliest, happiest optimisticalliest voice) “hi!!” waving my open palm back in forth in front of him. Then he stopped, waved and said “hi!”. Oh shit! Common said hi to me!! haaaay! I turned around to all the girls around me “Y’all see that!?!? He said HI to me!!” lol My stupid star struck ass all excited over a “hi”, but it was to me, nonetheless, which means he DOES want me to have his babies! I knew it was true…

sigh.

i ♥ common.

Why I love Tater:

::justin disconnected::
::justin connected::
holly: every time you disconnect I die a little inside. lol
justin: lol, shut up
holly: lololol
justin: reminds me of some line on jerry macguire
justin: can’t think of it exactly right now
holly: lol did i tell you what i had for dinner last night?
justin: balls
justin: meatballs
justin: i think you have a facination with them
justin: you like to put them in your mouth
holly: LOL
holly: I had a hot pocket and a glass of chardonnay.
holly: lolol
justin: you’ll make some guy very happy
justin: damn! you’re a classy bitch
holly: LMAO I know
justin: straight nascar and shit
holly: LMAOOOOO
holly: made me spit out my coffee
justin: i gotta go to your house some night for dinner
justin: you’ll drive to glendale for appetizers for your housewarming but dine alone on meatum
holly: LMAOOOOOO oh, i’mm crying. lol
holly: so sad, SO TRUE!
justin: nice
holly: You gotta come to my house and eat a hot pocket. lol
justin: and get the shits? no thanks
holly: LOL
holly: should I blog this conversation or you?
justin: you
justin: i can’t chance your toilet not working
holly: my toilet works!
justin: today it does
justin: who knows how many greasy hot pocket shits it will take to plug it up