And that's how Erin met her husband...
I was quite bored today at work, until I saw this.
So then my ego inflated and I thought, hey, I'm funny.
And then I wrote this:
Well, it’s the week between Christmas and New Year’s and everyone is bored at work. So what does that lead to? Lots of web surfing. And what does that lead to? Actually responding to things like Sean Lennon’s plea for a girlfriend on Page Six.
I happened to notice that I fit all of the stipulations that he laid out. No fifth nipples or anything. I mean, I do have a third eye in the back of my head, but he didn't mention anything about that, so I figure I'm safe. It just so happens that I took an IQ test a few months ago - 136. WHEW. Smart enough to be able to keep up and make interesting conversation at cocktail parties, but not so smart that I'll feel the need to lock myself in my room and can't relate to the rest of society, like John Nash or something. Most people say that I'm attractive, and I've been told that many cultures actually find moustaches on women to be HOT. I'm 26, which fits neatly into the desired age range, and how's this for kindhearted? I carry around granola bars in my glove compartment to give to homeless people, figuring that I'd rather give them food than money. *Sigh* I'm just so sweet.
Now certainly I cannot promise to actually become Sean Lennon's girlfriend. I mean, how do I know that they guy is even remotely interesting? Frankly, the Page Six plea does seem a bit odd and leads me to one of two conclusions: 1) He's just joking and is actually a pretty funny guy, or 2) he is hopelessly co-dependent, which I find frightening. I don't need a man who freaks out when I go shopping by myself or come in wasted after a night of sushi and Champagne with my girlfriends. Plus, in your picture he had a beard, and I hate facial hair.
But, I am nothing if not open minded. So should he be interested in going on a date, catching a movie, or, oh I don't know... writing a song pledging his eternal love for the three-eyed girl, go ahead and give him my email address. Should I get a response, I will send back a picture to prove that I am actually quite pretty.
Happy New Year, and here's hoping that next year brings more actual work for me to do at my job!
Erin
And then I actually sent it. What the hell was I thinking? Oh well. I haven't seen the peacock in a while, so perhaps this incident will provide a new ongoing saga that I can write about. The whole thing could end up being very "Win a Date with Tad Hamilton".
So then my ego inflated and I thought, hey, I'm funny.
And then I wrote this:
Well, it’s the week between Christmas and New Year’s and everyone is bored at work. So what does that lead to? Lots of web surfing. And what does that lead to? Actually responding to things like Sean Lennon’s plea for a girlfriend on Page Six.
I happened to notice that I fit all of the stipulations that he laid out. No fifth nipples or anything. I mean, I do have a third eye in the back of my head, but he didn't mention anything about that, so I figure I'm safe. It just so happens that I took an IQ test a few months ago - 136. WHEW. Smart enough to be able to keep up and make interesting conversation at cocktail parties, but not so smart that I'll feel the need to lock myself in my room and can't relate to the rest of society, like John Nash or something. Most people say that I'm attractive, and I've been told that many cultures actually find moustaches on women to be HOT. I'm 26, which fits neatly into the desired age range, and how's this for kindhearted? I carry around granola bars in my glove compartment to give to homeless people, figuring that I'd rather give them food than money. *Sigh* I'm just so sweet.
Now certainly I cannot promise to actually become Sean Lennon's girlfriend. I mean, how do I know that they guy is even remotely interesting? Frankly, the Page Six plea does seem a bit odd and leads me to one of two conclusions: 1) He's just joking and is actually a pretty funny guy, or 2) he is hopelessly co-dependent, which I find frightening. I don't need a man who freaks out when I go shopping by myself or come in wasted after a night of sushi and Champagne with my girlfriends. Plus, in your picture he had a beard, and I hate facial hair.
But, I am nothing if not open minded. So should he be interested in going on a date, catching a movie, or, oh I don't know... writing a song pledging his eternal love for the three-eyed girl, go ahead and give him my email address. Should I get a response, I will send back a picture to prove that I am actually quite pretty.
Happy New Year, and here's hoping that next year brings more actual work for me to do at my job!
Erin
And then I actually sent it. What the hell was I thinking? Oh well. I haven't seen the peacock in a while, so perhaps this incident will provide a new ongoing saga that I can write about. The whole thing could end up being very "Win a Date with Tad Hamilton".
posted by Erin at
3:52 PM
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