Fudge packers, crazies, and Spice Girls, oh my!

Hmmm. Today at work, I had a little run-in with Celestia that really made me scratch my head. I really can't figure her out. Just when I think she is just plain crazy, I begin to question myself, and think that maybe she is some sort of evil genius. I don't know... maybe she has just been fucking nuts for so long that she is a master manipulator by now. I won't bore anyone with the details of the argument, but it ended with me imagining new and clever ways to put my foot up her ass. I wish some other company would realize that their office is severely lacking some craziness and offer her a fabulous job. She has latched onto Mr. Big Shot's health craze, and has earned a little place in his fitness-obsessed heart in the process. I would love to think that he would be smart enough to recognize her nose so far up his ass, but he hasn't so far, and that blows.

I need some sex.

Now.

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Is it just me, or is anyone else sick of the Lindsay Lohans and Hilary Duffs of the world? Man, I get so sick of turning my TV on, or reading a magazine and seeing those two. And don't even get me started on that retard Britney Spears and the jackhole she married. Christ.. lose the hat, Kev. You already look like a giant pussy following Britney around like her little whipping boy. No matter how badass you try to look, you're still a back-up dancer, and even worse, now you're MR. BRITNEY SPEARS.

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Today, on my way home from work, a funny (and perhaps somewhat frightening) thing happened. As I mentioned in my last entry, I am a crazy nascar fan. And I LOVE LOVE LOVE Jeff Gordon. So, naturally, being the trashy fan that I am, I have a 24 sticker on the rear window of my car. For those of you who don't know who Jeff Gordon is (that's just crazy talk!), he illicits a very strong reaction in the older fans. When he came into nascar, he was young, from California, and just started kicking all the old southern guys' asses. So they all hate(d) him. So I am driving in my car, clueless to anything except the Motley Crue CD playing (shutup - 80's metal rules!), when this truck pulls up along side me and this guy in the passenger seat yells out his window "Jeff Gordon is a fudge packer!" I mean, come on. How could I react in any other way except to laugh? It was funny. So then, wanting to get me pissed I am assuming, he says, "Jeff Gordon sucks cocks! And you suck cocks too (well, he's got me there) for liking that homo!" I have to respect the guy's passion. I mean, we're driving in fucking traffic, and he feels strongly (and psychotically) enough to stick his head out the window and yell at some dumb girl driving next to him. What a lunatic. I love when shit like that happens.

It reminded me of when I worked in daycare, and one of the first graders came up to me and asked me what a fudge packer was, because his older brother called him one. The most ironic part of that is, those boys had no mom and two dads, if you know what I mean. So, I said what any other responsible childcare provider would say at a time like that: "You'll have to ask your parents."

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Ever since I posted the last entry, I have had this damn Spice Girls song in my head. Someone...please...make it go away.