Now I've never gotten a colonoscopy and I've been to Nordstrom once or twice, and here's why shopping at this mid-tier department store is worse than getting your ass probed: the fucking attentive staff.
I was in the shoe department late last week, just killing time while a friend looked for a new pair of dress shoes. I casually looked around, and even made my way over to the "Men's Section" (dress shirts, ties, etc.) and sniffed out some of the "fragrances."
Having the body language -- crossed arms, swift browsing and glossed-over eyes -- of, "do not even think of asking if you can help me, because you can't and I clearly would rather talk to a tree than to you" I thought I was in the clear for uninterrupted browsing.
Au contraire. I must've been asked by at least four dudes, "can I help you?"
Can you help? Yeah, make me shit better.
I hate that. If I need help choosing out a fucking neck tie, I'll signal you over. But until I make contact with you, please let me play pocket pool looking at the fine women in the women's shoes section.
I think the best way to handle this Brett Favre soap opera is to ignore it.
But I do feel like having one of those, "Told ya so" moments, so read here (second item).
Saw the Batman movie this weekend. Liked it. Ledger was good. Loved the tongue thing. Nice character development.
Though Christian Bale is kind of like watching cardboard talk. Somebody else could probably play the Batman better.
The idea of putting "the" in front of just about anything is growing on me.
I like having the sex.
Sad? Amusing? Both?
Two major drawbacks of having the gift of an extremely large penis:
1. Hard for a girl to deep throat you.
2. Sometimes when you lean forward on the pot while taking a shit, your wang touches the water/feces.
Still, small price to pay...