Third Prize is 'You're Fired!'!

[rispacooper]

I've been resisting posting a little *life flail* in here, mostly because I'm not sure what I would say. There's so much going on and I don't understand any of it. So mostly I've been floating through the past few days. That's fine. I think I'm content with continuing that for the time being. I have a feeling that if I sat down to think about things, I'd still be just as confused. (Yes, yes I ought to just *feel* blah blah. Except you've never seen someone so out of touch with their feelings. Then someone asked me what I *want* and you know...I've never been asked that question before. And I honestly have no answer yet. Oy. These be weighty issues pressing on my feeble brain).

So instead I bring you random, insane, short distractions.


Timothy McSweeney's Short Imagined Monologues starting out with the classic,


No Son of Mine Plays Oregon Trail Like That


Mom, Dad, I'm Into Steampunk


Blake, Alec Baldwin's Character from the Movie Version of 'Glengerry Glen Ross' Motivates Some Fourth Graders

Vladimir Nabokov Didn't Have to Put Up With Payroll


And oh so many more.

Now save me Tom Jones...I would SO throw my panties at you.

Comments

[senor-coconut-1.livejournal.com]

A bit of both.

My gran threw her underwear at Tom Jones once. Well, her bra.


My gran was awesome.

[rispacooper.livejournal.com]

Almost everyone I know has seen Tom Jones live except for me, which is so unfair, because I loved him first.

*whine* He's in Vegas right now, but I can't afford to go out there. Pooh.

[senor-coconut-1.livejournal.com]

I had to do it.

[rispacooper.livejournal.com]

Something about the name Carlton...makes you an awesome dancer. heheheh