Here's Another

Here's another story that has to do with work:

There is a boy at work who always asks me to fill in for him, and sometimes when I do not get very many hours at work I say to my mom, "Mom. I don't have very many hours at work." and my mom replies, "Oh, well . . . maybe Patrick will call." then I say, "Yeah. Good 'ole Patrick." and my mom says, "Good 'ole Patrick." and so Patrick is known as "Good 'Ole Patrick" at my house and will be until he dies. Then we'll call him "Good 'Ole Patrick Who Died".

That was a terrible story I know, and I apologize for it. If you would like to hear another terrible story, then you can keep going, but if not, then you better leave. Here's the other bad story:

I locked my keys in my car today. It was awful because it was just plain, naked stupidity. I slammed the car door shut before I grabbed the keys off of the passenger seat and then there they were, glinting happily up at me and laughing. Anyway, the cops unlocked my car and I had to stop myself from grabbing them and kissing them, much like an enthusiatic Italian person would. I didn't think that they would appreciate that, so instead I said "Thank you very much."

This is very embarrassing, but I love "Deadwood" and would marry it if it were a person.