Sometimes I make up stories...actually, most of the time. But apparently, they're only stories when the people you are telling know they're stories. But really, where's the fun in that?
I guess that makes me a really good liar...but that just sounds bad. I like to think, I'm just a really good storyteller who doesn't tell you when it's a story...at least not right away.
Like this one time, when I went to Dairy Queen and I'm standing in line, waiting to order a medium vanilla blizzard with m&m's when this group of nuns come up and are all like "can we cut in front of you, cause like, we're nuns" and I'm all like "whatever" and then they all order medium vanilla blizzards with m&m's. So I get to the window and I'm like "I'll have a medium vanilla blizzard with m&m's" and the girl's like "um, like, I'm sorry, but we're like out of medium cups and m&m's, that was a big group of nuns." So now I'm thinking I should be really mad, cause I just wanted a freggin blizzard of the medium size with m&m's and vanilla ice cream and those darn nuns all up and took all my ice cream. Maybe that's just the universes way of telling me I don't need any ice cream, maybe I should just go to Stop & Shop and get some yogurt and Bare Naked Granola...with blueberries, because perhaps that would be healthier. So I get in my car and start driving, and I find myself in Wappingers at the second nearest Dairy Queen...now with a hankering for a large blizzard with vanilla ice cream and butterfingers. I decide, the drive thru would be the best way to go...no one can cut in front of me then. So I order and I'm smiling, cause I'm like "yay blizzard!" and I get to the window and the dude says "sorry, we're all out of large cups and butterfingers, would you like something else?" My smile turned upside down and I say "Jesus, did nuns come here too?" and he laughs and says "priests" and I glance over and they're all up and eating large blizzards with butterfingers. So I drive to the mall, buy a pair of shoes, go to Shop Rite and buy some granola and yogurt. I haven't been to Dairy Queen since, I mean whats the point? I'll just end up wasting more and more gas...and money...
I did, however, go to church the following Sunday.
