gaze upon my loot
Apr. 5th, 2007 08:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7So Z bought me St. Patrick's Day gifts-- green things, as he smugly answered my repeated questions of what? what?, but the second item didn't go up for sale until 2 days after the deadline for shipping by St. Pat's day had passed, so he figured, eh, two days late? no problem. But then the first item went on backorder. So, oops.
So as I was leaving the house yesterday, a little early so I could swing by the mailbox and mail my tax return and a check for $10 grand wrapped in a pamphlet on Satanism, the postman saw me crossing the street and said, "Hang on a minute!" I turned around. "Do you have a minute? I have a package for you and I don't want to leave it outside in all this wind and rain."
"Well," I said, "I was leaving early to mail these."
He laughed. "I think I can do that for you."
My mailman, by the way, is about the only thing I dig about suburbia. Dude knows everyone. He knows me especially, however, because I'm often home in the mornings when he comes by, and also the girl next door has the same first name and a similar surname, so he'll occasionally chuck her mail through the door and then ring the doorbell in a chagrined manner.
So I followed him back to his truck and he handed me a Priority Mail box, and I giggled gleefully and went zipping off to open it in the two spare minutes I had.
And inside were my green presents.
Gaze upon my loot and despair, O ye peons: for I have one of the limited edition handmade Joanna plush dolls.
If you don't know who Joanna is, here are a few comics about her.
Let's Get Drunk
Her eyes glow red in the last panel
She drinks our booze when we ehn't lookin
Ah yes. The first Joanna strip, not that it makes sense on its own. I remember that storyline. God, have I been reading this strip that long?
Anyway. She's very plushy. And the shirt is rad. I am so ready for the Irish Festival.
As an aside we finally heard back from the insurance company and the accident was ruled 50-50. The other guy turned left right in front of Z, and it was ruled 50-50. Unutterable assholes. Z Doesn't Want To Talk About It.
So as I was leaving the house yesterday, a little early so I could swing by the mailbox and mail my tax return and a check for $10 grand wrapped in a pamphlet on Satanism, the postman saw me crossing the street and said, "Hang on a minute!" I turned around. "Do you have a minute? I have a package for you and I don't want to leave it outside in all this wind and rain."
"Well," I said, "I was leaving early to mail these."
He laughed. "I think I can do that for you."
My mailman, by the way, is about the only thing I dig about suburbia. Dude knows everyone. He knows me especially, however, because I'm often home in the mornings when he comes by, and also the girl next door has the same first name and a similar surname, so he'll occasionally chuck her mail through the door and then ring the doorbell in a chagrined manner.
So I followed him back to his truck and he handed me a Priority Mail box, and I giggled gleefully and went zipping off to open it in the two spare minutes I had.
And inside were my green presents.
Gaze upon my loot and despair, O ye peons: for I have one of the limited edition handmade Joanna plush dolls.
If you don't know who Joanna is, here are a few comics about her.
Let's Get Drunk
Her eyes glow red in the last panel
She drinks our booze when we ehn't lookin
Ah yes. The first Joanna strip, not that it makes sense on its own. I remember that storyline. God, have I been reading this strip that long?
Anyway. She's very plushy. And the shirt is rad. I am so ready for the Irish Festival.
As an aside we finally heard back from the insurance company and the accident was ruled 50-50. The other guy turned left right in front of Z, and it was ruled 50-50. Unutterable assholes. Z Doesn't Want To Talk About It.
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Date: 2007-04-05 08:48 pm (UTC)*not saying I-told-you-so*