I've had another... weird week. It was Monday. There I was, minding my own business, when I decided to go get the mail (which I never do, (sorry Beck)). We occasionally get letters and magazines for the dude that used to live in our place before us. As I was tossing the crap into the recycling, I come across a magazine with a red, Mini Cooper on it. Now, I've always had a little thing for Mini's. Maybe it's because I think I might look great in a Mini. I mean look at me, I'm rather mini myself. It just works. So I was like, awesome, guy who lived here before was into cars. I tear open the wrapping on the mag and flip it over. Guess what. BAM! Bare boobs, bosoms, breasteses! I gasp and throw the magazine down. Becca's like, "what??" And I'm like, "Boobs! Becca. Playboy. That wasn't a car magazine! That was a freaking Playboy!" (And I'm not talking about the Playmate cooler my Grandmother so innocently calls a Playboy). What are the odds of seeing MORE boobs just one week after my run in at the gym in the girls locker room. What did I do to deserve this? Karma or whatever is working against me. Anyway, for the record, that thang went right in the trash.
Anyway. The next day was Tuesday. I came home. Took a nap. Ate some din. Went to the gym to shoot around, blow off some steam. Got there and there were some fellas trying to start a pick up game. They asked me if I wanted to play, I gratefully declined. But after they started playing full court, and were consistently interrupting my shoot around, I decided enough is enough. So they asked me to play again. I said, why the heck not. So I played 5 on 5 with a bunch of dudes. And guess what, it was a pretty good time. Are you wondering if I got handled? I know I'm little, so it's a legitimate question, I'm not offended. Well the answer to your imaginary question is, no! I did not get handled. In fact, I held my own! With the boys! Like in the good ole days! I was draining three's like you wouldn't believe! I don't mean to brag here, but after the "Playboy Incident" (as it shall henceforth be known) I really appreciated the fact that I was still good at basketball. At least that day I was.
The Playboy Incident really put a damper on my week. But you know what makes everything better?!?
...
...
Puppies.
8 comments:
You know what? You can tell a lot about a person who likes dogs. Those are some cute puppies.
But mostly what I want to say is: I looked down at my phone yesterday--and I saw a picture message from you that was WORSE than bare boobies. Worse Kate. No wonder karma is working against you.
Watch yourself.
Puppies? WTH? Oh, did your Christmas miracle finally come true? Rosa had puppies?!?! Awww...that's so--Wait! Please tell me they're Tau's or he might never recover from a blow like that.
Puppies do make everything better.
Oh ladies.
Ever since the hamster story at Maria's shower I've been a big fan. And now I found your blog. Wahoo! Hope you don't mind me reading it....even though I'm that creepy older girl from the home ward who's still kicking around. And by creepy I mean awesome, so don't worry.
I'm pretty sure Rrrosa is a nudist Kate. Just sayin'...
xo anon
P.S. Please don't buy her a bra!
Suddenly it sounds like you're living a much higher quality life than I am. Naked women and basketball? That sounds great, I mean isn't that why the NBA got started in the first place? Some guy was like, "I love baskeball but I also love naked women. Hmm..." I'm pretty sure that's a quote from Wilt Chamberlain.
Oh, and if puppies are better than women then my whole life has been a giant lie. Of course, at the same time, if puppies really are better than women my life has actually been much better than I originally thought, so I guess it's sort of a win-lose.
puppies? I like you.
can i just tell you that you are the greatest and I think you are freaking hilarious! too bad there was not a picture of a weiner dog, but I still think you are great!
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