i found in my pursuit of God that He was much more hotly in pursuit of me.

Thursday, December 21, 2006

mighty oregon

so you guys know how i lurve to make and decorate sugar cookies, right?

well this year, in honor of tonights bowl game, i dorked it up hard core and made oregon cookies, too!

arrivederci, rebecca marie

Friday, December 15, 2006

there's this one guy i don't like

so you guys know how i don't like christmas (i almost said "so you guys know how i hate christmas?" but i decided that hate is a very strong word)? i hate that it's about get get get (i know, some of us aren't like that...), and how you like, decorate the house and then the kids get yelled at for touching all of the fun pretty stuff. and how people over spend and eat too much all while being grouchy with strangers. i could go on and on, just ask janni laine or the mister, they know my drill. i realize these are generalizations, but i'm sure you all get what i'm saying, even a little, so please no hate comments, i'm fragile and i might delete them.

anyway, so there's this guy i don't like. wanna know why? well, he sits at a market close to me every year and collects for the salvation army. that's fine. i think that the army is doing a pretty awesome job at teaching people about how to love jesus, so it's great that he is getting fundage for them and stuff. it's the way he is a complete and total liar jerk that makes me so mad.

here is the deal ee oh. i used to work with this guy, jim. jim is a righteous cat, he's all like, in the army and stuff (the real army, not the salvation one), and he's nice and everything. he totally befriended this salvation army money collector dude and i usta see him all, buying him coffee and stuff. see, there was this coffee stand at the market, you know, the one where said jerk is now collecting dough, and i would walk by on my way to buy, you know, apples and tampons and what-not, and i'd see jim talking to the m.c. (money collector). so the m.c. is in a wheelchair, i don't know if i told you that. well anyway, he's handicapped, or differently abled or whatever and i'm going to start a new paragraph now, even though it's not really time, but just because i already gave you all a brutal run on sentence and i'm not going to compound it with a run on paragraph, too.

so anyway, i would walk by jim and the m.c. they would be having these nice conversations, and everyone was clearly understood. the reason i specify that everyone was clearly understood is because the m.c. is speech impaired. i completely agree that that must suck. his legs don't work, and his speech is slightly slurred. that makes jim's relationship with him even nicer. a lot of people have a zero tolerance policy when it comes to disabililty (i have a zero tolerance policy for those people, by the way, they suck and they'll probably end up disabled just to spite themselves). but let me repeat... his speech is slightly slurred. completely understandable.

(ladies and gentlemen... it is all an emphasis thing. i have a zero tolerance policy for the people who have a zero tolerance policy when it comes to disability. NOT... "i have a zero tolerance policy for the disabled.")

that's why i don't like him. switch to christmas time, and suddenly, when he is ringing his salvation army bell, his speech is almost entirely unintelligible. that is not right dude. that is not right even a little. you insult me by pretending to be desperate and pathetic when you are neither. i used to respect you, cause i'd see you cruisin' down JCB waving at your friends on the way to get some coffee. i thought you were so cool for getting out there and making friends when if i were in your situation i'd likely be trying to get people to feel sorry for me.

well you know what? you suck. you suck for trying to make people pity you and therefore guilt them into giving more money. i'm not going to say "merry christmas," to you when you say "meeeeee kimuh.... haay houeee....." to me. i'm not going to say it so hard.

and that is why i don't like that one guy. or christmas.

arrivederci, rebecca marie