It’s a lazy Sunday. God how I love them. The sister and I watched Twilight. Men, piece of advice:
WOMEN LOVE EDWARD CULLEN!
I.e.: You all should be Edward Cullen.
Even the sister wasn’t immune.
Anyway, the movie gets over, and Andrea says, “Let’s go somewhere.”
“Where do you want to go?” I say.
“Let’s get some cookies.”
“It’s 4:30,” I reply.
“The mall closes at 6:00. Let’s go,” she says.
So we hop in the car and we go. Somewhere around Lincoln Ave, we pull up next to a truck with “balls,” real actual balls. Seriously, the truck has a nut sack. It’s a bit disgusting.
Andrea points out the windows and shows me the balls.
“Oh, that’s just disgusting,” I say. “Why would you – oh,” I say as I glimpse the driver. “Well, he has no balls, so that’s why he put them on his truck.”
Anyway, we get to the mall and find that they close at 5:00. We made it with six minutes to spare.
“What if the cookie store is out of sugar cookies?” I say as we walk inside.
“Then its going to be on.” Andrea replies as we both think back to a couple of weeks when I was a the popular mall (She and I are getting cookies at the “unpopular” mall because it has the best cookie place) when Miss America was visiting and the cookie store ran out of sugar cookies. Andrea went in the next day for lunch and still no sugar cookies.
Luckily, there are sugar cookies. And since it is closing time they are considered “day olds” and we get them for half price. A dozen cookies for $3.49. And they’re great.
So we’re driving along, eating cookies and making fun of each other when we stop at a red light.
Seriously, there is some douche bag “bumping” in a black Mercury Sable. Yeah, a car that was cool circa 19-never.
I look at Andrea and say “Is he bumping in a Mercury Sable?”
“Hey, you’re grandma called, she wants her car back. And wants you to take your crappy stereo.”
The light changes and we drive, but once again we get caught by another red light. We start cracking up as the song gets to the chorus or something and the car says “bump, bump, bump.”
“I just want to kick it,” Andrea says. Then, “Do you have your camera?” Andrea asks.
“Yeah,” I say and begin to rummage in my purse. I turn it on, but the light changes before I can get a picture off.
“Did you get it,” Andrea asks as we pass the guy.
“No,” I say ducking down because I don’t want this douche to see me taking a picture of him and thinking that we think he’s cool or something because I actuality, we think he’s a loser and have to catalogue his “loser-ness.”
‘Well, hang on,” she says and slows up so he passes.
I get the shot.
For some reason we start quote Reno 911. “No, you faced your chest!” “That is a nice, tight, tit, tat.” “More like stumbled.” as we walk into the grocery store and buy dinner.
More inane chatter happened on the drive back, centered around a local road that is being widened and the house with front yards that will soon be replaced with four-lane roads, the ridiculous stop lights that will soon be put once the road is widened and then we get home and Andrea yells at me to get of the car with my “pink” teeth. Gross, I know, but damn the sugar cookie icing was good.
Anyway, that’s we get our rocks off on a Sunday.
Note: Once Twilight was over, we were talking about James and Victoria and the sequel. Andrea said “Well he got his rocks off tracking and killing people.”
“Did you just say ‘got his rocks off’” I asked.
“Yeah,” said Andrea.
“That is like….so circa 1980.”
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