Chel.. err.. seashell responds to criticism and in the process enters the contest for trophy and t-shirt.
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Every Dog Has His Day
Well, it seems that for once in my short life I have let down the English gods. My grammar has slipped and now the world may end. I must explain the situation surrounding my horrible misdeed...
It is Vacation Bible School week at the church. What this means is that seashell must pry brownie out of the carpet 1,000 percent more than the normal amount and that people complain because the air conditioner is set on 74 instead of 54. It means seashell (ok, I'll stop referring to myself in the third person) gets to wait her entire lunch break for people to get in their vans with their snot nose kids who are spoiled like John F'ing Kerry will be when he gets that Heinz 57 money and go home so she can lock the place. It means I have no weekend and it's a holiday! ...As if the killer nematodes weren't enough.
ugh,
seashell
P.S. I'm sorry, Sting.
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Looks like someone needs a hug...
Jeff C.
