Friday's child
I'm hoping great things will happen this weekend, because my coworker told me on October 10 that you can wish for whatever you want and it will come true, because it's 10/10. I mean, I know that's sort of a verbal "SCROLL DOOOOWN WISH WISH WISH!!!" chain mail kind of thing, but dammit, I need some good luck. So here's what I wished for:
1. That a certain someone shows up with an awesomely large armful of flowers and apologizes for not showering me with devotion sooner, and that he has finally, painfully, extricated his head from his ass.
2. The club downstairs closes, and a record/candy/guitar/book/cheese curd store opens there instead, and all the employees are hot, intelligent, socially-unawkward single men who looooove redheads.
3. Oprah calls and offers to pay off all my debts. I appear on Oprah. She hires that guy to redo my apartment.
4. Jake Gyllenhaal calls and offers to smooch me. He appears on my bed.
5. The book I haven't written yet is an immediate bestseller, all those people who doubted me back when I was winning spelling bees in grade school read it and realize they are the inspiration for the evil, backstabbing, exclusive, dumb-as-rocks antagonists who are stricken with multiple disfiguring STDs early on in the story, feel bad, get really jealous, then go back to living their lame lives and working at the Bagel Shoppe.
6. $100,000 promotion. I mean, I'm trying to be realistic here.
7. George Bush calls and apologizes for fucking up the country/world, tenders his immediate resignation, followed by Cheney, and Barack Obama is unanimously voted President.
8. I throw a big party. Paris Hilton can't get in, but Soleil Moonfrye shows up and admits she wanted to be me when she was a little girl. Nicole Richie consents to eating a 20-lb hamburger and subsequently puts on 20 lbs.
9. I buy houses for my entire family and all my besties, and everyone gets a beer/soda/scotch fountain installed and free healthcare.
I think that's it, for now. I'll let you know on Monday how the weekend goes.
1. That a certain someone shows up with an awesomely large armful of flowers and apologizes for not showering me with devotion sooner, and that he has finally, painfully, extricated his head from his ass.
2. The club downstairs closes, and a record/candy/guitar/book/cheese curd store opens there instead, and all the employees are hot, intelligent, socially-unawkward single men who looooove redheads.
3. Oprah calls and offers to pay off all my debts. I appear on Oprah. She hires that guy to redo my apartment.
4. Jake Gyllenhaal calls and offers to smooch me. He appears on my bed.
5. The book I haven't written yet is an immediate bestseller, all those people who doubted me back when I was winning spelling bees in grade school read it and realize they are the inspiration for the evil, backstabbing, exclusive, dumb-as-rocks antagonists who are stricken with multiple disfiguring STDs early on in the story, feel bad, get really jealous, then go back to living their lame lives and working at the Bagel Shoppe.
6. $100,000 promotion. I mean, I'm trying to be realistic here.
7. George Bush calls and apologizes for fucking up the country/world, tenders his immediate resignation, followed by Cheney, and Barack Obama is unanimously voted President.
8. I throw a big party. Paris Hilton can't get in, but Soleil Moonfrye shows up and admits she wanted to be me when she was a little girl. Nicole Richie consents to eating a 20-lb hamburger and subsequently puts on 20 lbs.
9. I buy houses for my entire family and all my besties, and everyone gets a beer/soda/scotch fountain installed and free healthcare.
I think that's it, for now. I'll let you know on Monday how the weekend goes.
posted by Tete Rouge at 2:48 PM
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