My Day As An Unhandled Error
This has been a horrible day, as I have been strewing disaster and destruction wherever I go... I feel like the Fifth Horseman of the Apocalypse**, only I drive a seedy-looking station wagon instead of a fiery steed. Everyone I speak to is sucked into the magnetic vortex of ill-fortune and stress.
So I went to Bennigan's Restaurant with a very nice young man.
Bennigan's has a meal selection called "Choose Your Mood" combinations. I looked and I looked, but they didn't appear to have Saddened Beef, Chicken of Despair, Anguished Salad of Dashed Hopes or Despondent Salmon. I ordered the skewered shrimp instead; they seemed like they'd had a painful demise.
I'm going to bed now.
**War, Famine, Pestilence, Death and L
So I went to Bennigan's Restaurant with a very nice young man.
Bennigan's has a meal selection called "Choose Your Mood" combinations. I looked and I looked, but they didn't appear to have Saddened Beef, Chicken of Despair, Anguished Salad of Dashed Hopes or Despondent Salmon. I ordered the skewered shrimp instead; they seemed like they'd had a painful demise.
I'm going to bed now.
**War, Famine, Pestilence, Death and L
posted by L at 9:05 PM
7 Comments:
poor L. Come watch American Idol with me and join in the pain.
Bennigans!? I thought you swore those off after high school. They are good for happy hour when you just want to get drunk but not much else (oh, but they are good for Monte Christos, oh yes, yes they are.)
I'm so sorry by dear L that you are having an apocalyptic kind of day. Just a little over two weeks until the party of the week. We shall ply you with booze and tapas and make you watch skinny young men with too much eyeliner soon enough. Well, you'll like the tapas and skinny young men at least, more booze for me.
Poor poor girl. I know those days too well. They Suck. Here's some (((hugs))) for you.
I think you went to the wrong Bennigan's. At the one near my home, I often order the Pitiable Porterhouse with a piquant Sullen Sauce and a side of Mushrooms of Morosity. When I really want to splurge, though, I get the Auto-da-fe Platter*.
*TM Bennigan's, 1997. Caution: food engulfed in active flames may cause injury; eat at own risk.
When I'm an Error, I'd rather be Unhandled. I duck around corners, trying to evade The Handler. Eventually I always find my own relational integrity, and never have to get handled. You'll be OK, too, I think.
Do you also feel like a penny in a burned out building?
Why didn't you call me! Then we could both have bitched, complained and bemoaned our current station in life!
Poor L. At least you didn't have to have overpriced bad Chinese food again!
I just had a yummy snack, so I feel much better now :)
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