Things I need to get as of this week:
This right here is the culprit of today’s mystery. Much of which, was not eaten by yours truly- as I gave most of it away to friends that didn’t have anything for breakfast.
A friend of mine, to remain nameless as to retain her identity, helped me to smuggle this delectable treat. But smuggling bacon and other breakfast tasties is a very delicate feat. You must be very careful. You must keep your guard up.
You must.. be sure you carry some Pepto Bismal.
I only ate 2 pieces of the bacon and half of the bisquit shown here. However that was enough to result in not one but two trips to tinkletown but not for the tinkle.
My tummy hurt. There is only one bathroom up here on my floor for the girls. Working with boys and it not being out in the public atmosphere, I couldn’t just walk into the Men’s bathroom and dump off the jobs.
Instead I had to perfect a very specific dance style. I call it the gopher. Go-fer- the nearest restroom you can. It’s kind of like Frogger actually. You have to dodge all the people walking by in the hallways and entry ways. In hopes that you will get to that which is coveted at the end of the level…
the glory that is the toilet. The glory that will be released from your bowels as you finally get there.. to the nearest available john that you have to hover over.. because women are just as bad about dumping their jobs as men.
I’m completely serious.
I’ve had to go in many a mens restroom in a dive bar to find not only that the line was shorter.. but the men had cleaner restrooms. Thank you Jesus for the metro age.
That was my day yesterday. However despite it all, I will never give up on this second profession of mine. Bacon smuggler has a nice ring to it I think… even if there are a few consequences to be had. Sacrifices must be made.. in the name of zod. Bacon!
Sidenote: I was the only one who got sick from said breakfast food. The other two people were not effected at all. God I love my life!
courtesy of sexyoutofcontext, tumblr
Random factoids o’ Jena:
I have always had a fascination in all things underwater and scientifical. My favorite animals are octupi and seahorses. I find them to be creations of magic and wonderment that somehow managed to make it into reality, as if by mistake.
I’ve milled over getting tatoos of them many times. I currently do not have any tattoos, which also shocks people upon hearing. I haven’t ruled it out yet. There is still more than enough time for it. So who knows, right?
I love the ocean so very much that at one point I also considered being a marine biologist. My father told me later that one of the best schools in the country for that is in San Diego.. so regardless of which career choice (I’ve known I’ve wanted to be in entertainment since I was born.) I’d made, I was destined to live there someday.
Ah San Diego, my home… how I miss you so.
And my dearest ocean? It’s been days. Let’s make a date alright?
It’s true. This woman came into work today wanting to know where this Mexican restaurant was nearby. My boss didn’t know where it was, but I did.
Why? Guess. Yes, that’s right.. honey colored skin, sense of style, smelled of nicotine and had a few moments of conversation… yum.
If I want to remember where something is in town, I just remember the hot boy that came into work.. or wherever else I ran into them. I’m thinking about making a mashup map actually. It may border the creepy and silly line a bit but its true. In the greater suburbia LA area, despite there being many indie boys in my locale, there are far more posers and red herrings then genuine deliciousness.
I’m betting theres a hot boy congregation somewhere.. watch most of them be gay. I’m on the look out.. do let me know if you know where they’re hiding. I want to go find them to make em be the seeker.
I am an Enigma 