Archive for June, 2007
What happened to Renee Zellweger?

So, if you’ll remember way back in May, I blogged about a couple of weird emails I received…you can read the post here. Today, I received another email from the sender of the first email in that post:
So I have been having a tough time lately. I am sad to say that at 5 mos.
Pregnant, I lost the baby. I am devastated. I’ll tell you the whole story
when I see you in person.
Anyway, I wanted to let you know-that’s why I have not contacted Julie
either– I am taking a break from work right now so I can heal both
physically and mentally.
xoxo
elizabeth
What the hell? I don’t know this person. I mean, I feel bad that she lost her baby, but I wouldn’t know her if she walked up to me on the street and said “hey, I’m the crazy chick that’s been sending you email”. What is this shit?
This is the text of some Spam that snuck through my filter. WTF?
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So, in the interest of sating the considerable hunger that had grown in my belly from a hard morning of “working” (surfing the web, chatting online, taking numerous breaks, flirting back with overly-flirtatios married chick, I decided that I need to take a lunch.
I was in the mood for something vegetably, but also with some chickeny goodness as well. That meant one thing: a salad, avec le poulet. Despite my tendency to use French phrases in my inner monologue, I decided against going to the local La Madeleine, as that would’ve meant and entirely too-crowded lunchtime adventure. Instead, I chose to rely upon that old standby, Chick-Fil-A, as their salads are generally very good (though Holly reports that in Tyler they tend to use too much yellow iceberg lettuce–ugh).
After ordering, the weird (and you’ll see why I use that term) counter guy asked me the following:
“Have a sweet tooth? Then you should return to try one of delicious hand-spun milkshakes”
I just stared at him in disbelief, as I found this question to be rather odd…and because I never heard him or any other worker, while I was waiting forever for my salad, ask anyone else the same thing, I knew it wasn’t one of those scripted things that they have to ask everyone, which further creeped me out.
Also, what the hell is a “hand-spun milkshake”? It almost sounds dirty. Almost.
Then, when my salad was finally ready, he handed me my tray and said, in a rather bad fake French accent “Bon Appétit“. Eep.
I ate my salad, trying my best to ignore the light Christian rock that they tend to play, then decided, before leaving, that I’d get a refill.
If you’ve ever been to Chick-Fil-A, you know that they don’t believe in letting the customer get their own refills like every other fastfood establishment in the world, instead hoarding the drink machines behind the counter, forever inaccessible to us that don’t work there. So, I had to wait in line for a refill, a huge pain-in-the-ass when it’s a busy lunch time. Finally, it was my turn. And I got the same weird guy. As he refilled my cup with Coke, he asked “How was your lunch today?” to which I replied “Okay”. He then, in his best Tony the Tiger imitation replied, “Maybe next time, it’ll be grrreat!”.
Freak.