speaking of depressed deities...

mood: irked
music: babble of library
CPCetc: *twitch twitch dies*

Today I had to run a recommendation over to my aunt because
a) seeing as she is my godmother and not blood aunt, she qualifies for the "non-relative" catagory,
b) she is my employer for the three years I have been appointed tent wench and
c) she's a nice enough person to fill out such nonsense as official government documents.
Since I was in the relative neighbourhood, I decided to run to Kohl's where there were rumoured Chanukah socks and sexy black thigh-highs.

I hate the Mall. It's not the parking or the mallrats or the scary little old ladies driving everywhere for Bobby Sue's tickle-me-elmo. Oh, no. I could live with that. I hate the Mall because of what it stands for. Commercialism, greed, violence, CAPITALISM! The Mall represents everything I hate in this country. The Mall is baseball and McDonald's and Dubya all rolled into one. The Mall is Evil.

So you may ask, why compromise your values for Chanukah socks and sexy black thigh-highs? That's an excellent question. If you ever are, as I find myself, in a hot lesbian relationship, you will learn the importance of such things as sexy black thigh-highs. Especially if you discover that Party A in said relationship has a soft spot for such things. And who better to have Chanukah socks than an aspiring Jew?

To make a long story short, the sexy black thigh-highs were not present. And I almost died twice. But, dammit, I have a pair of Chanukah socks and I intend to strut them!

Late to rehearsal. Tschau!

Kiri!

** ** ** **