something that's so not teen angst-a-licious of me is that i've been opening a whole lot of cans of grown-ass-woman whoop ass lately. and when i say opening cans of whoop ass what i really mean is killing people with kindness until they give me what i want to have, do what i want them to do, or say what i want to hear. yup. it's working wonders, baby.
one can of whoop ass led to me having quite a long phone conversation with a very nice young man working as a UPS customer service rep in ashville, north carolina. i buttered him up right nice until he had my package delivered to me that very day. mmhmm. he even told me that his bff from high school is a park ranger for PROSPECT PARK. this, of course, has led to countless hours on the internet trying to figure out how to follow a similar path. i'm planning on opening cans of whoop ass at the park visitor's center this weekend until they hook a sistah up.
other cans of whoop ass have been opened at fedex, kinkos, various family members and friends, and many other unsuspecting establishments and victims. but again, cans of whoop ass does in fact mean being the most polite individual on the planet who simply does not stop being super sweet until one does what is wanted. mu ha ha.
kill 'em with kindness...isn't that a great idea for a blog? sarah and i have tossed around ideas for a joint, themed (not joint themed. thank goodness for grammar) blog to write together. KILL 'EM WITH KINDNESS would be a blog where we would write glowing biographies of horrid people, places, and things.
somehow i feel like this idea should get filed with my joint brewery-winery idea that never gets met with much enthusiasm.
sometimes i think i'm some obscure reincarnation of belle's father, maurice. oh, boy.