I want a constitutional amendment banning the use of "punkrockprincess," or any derivative form such as "punkrawkprincess" or "XxxpunkrockprincessxxX", from ever being used to describe someone's online persona. There's absolutely nothing "punk" or "rock" about being a princess, nor is there anything princessy about punk rock...or whatever it is these days...you kids and what you think passes for punk...I'm so old.
Shrek 2 is one of the funniest movies I've seen in a long time. I haven't even seen the original Shrek, but now I feel the need to. There's one scene in Shrek 2 that perfectly describes my experience in Boston a couple years ago...the giant Gingerbread man attacks one Starbucks and everyone runs out of it and into another Starbucks that is right across the street. Seriously, there were Starbucks on opposite street corners. From that I concluded that people who live in Boston are too lazy to cross a street, and ergo, I didn't go to Harvard.
J/K. They said something about not being Asian...I dunno. Andrea Cardinal?
I did it. I finally ate at the Catfish Campus. It had been taunting me from the side of James Campbell Blvd. for months now. At first I was too shocked to ever believe that it really existed. I mean, were they serious? Could they honestly call a restaurant the Catfish Campus...and what could be so Delightfully Different about it?
I finally built up the nerve and went to it today. For all my acquired redneck behaviors and mannerisms, nothing could have prepared me for this. I know I'm getting up there in years, but I was the youngest person in there by a good 40 years. No one told me eating catfish was reserved for the AARP. So I sit down, and the old woman in the far corner is staring at me (maybe I'm just paranoid, but this is a reoccuring theme in this town...I think I need a haircut). The waitress is nice, and I order the 3 Fillet Dinner, with fries and "slaw." I didn't know you could seperate "cole" and "slaw" but hey, I'm ignorant. Ok, to be honest, the meal and establishment within itself was nothing remarkable or bad. I think it's a Southern thing, and though I'm from the "South", the Texas "South" is nothing like the real, civil war re-enacting "South," there was nothing really special about catfish...give me salmon any day.
Anyways, remember the old woman in the corner? So she gets up and starts walking towards my table, and as I have conditioned myself to do, I stare at my coffee cup and try to look as uninterested in her presence as humanly possible. What she said next, I have no clue, but it sounded like this:
I look up. I have a horrified look on my face. Now, let me describe this woman. She is what I like to call a "Tennessee Crazy." Southern people are usually by nature friendly, they say hello, they smile. They are not insane. This woman looked insane. About 300lbs on a good day, about my height, with huge glasses and unkept hair. She is obviously a Tennessee Crazy. I am very scared right now.
She repeats herself.
I finally understand...I think. I believe she said "How are you doing?"
I do not know this woman. I have no desire to know this woman. I smile and nod and say "Fine." She then walks away. Then five minutes later I make a horrible mistake. I turn over my shoulder and she's sitting at a bench looking at me. We make eye contact, which is the worst of all possible scenarios. She smiles. I turn around and sit there until I finish my coffee. She still has not left. I have to pay, so I walk up to the counter, and she's still smiling at me. She says "hewwo." I say "Hello" back. I run for the car. I will never go to Catfish Campus again.
Geez...that took a while. Enough for today.