Thursday, January 11, 2007


I don't like the number 99. Its Wayne Gretzky's number. Whiny Butt Wayne.

Lets get this over with quick and on to #100.

So, I'm sitting at the Kings game tonight, watching the pathetic excuse for a game and the guy next to me shows up from the intermission with food from Panda Express. Okay, I've only had one serious symptom of pregnancy at this point and its a heightened sense of smell. I can smell something 40 miles away and it would make me ill.
So this large man brings his Panda Express back to the seat and I literally thought I was dying. I had my jersey over my nose and I could still smell the foul stench through the thick material. I jumped over this guy in an effort to get out of there so I didn't hurl in my lap. The ushers were nice enough to offer me a seat in the section below mine for a few minutes and kept checking on him. Once he was done with his foul food, I returned to my seat.
The food itself does not smell, its the vegetable 'medley' they add in. The broccoli smells like dead flesh and just permeates the air. I hope it comes back to haunt him later tonight.

No comments:

Post a Comment