Alex Trebek really wants to be Sir Ian Mckellen
Background Noise: Rebellion
Last Visited: the interwebs
Random Thought: No, apparently we aren't over it; Suck it, Trebek!
Mood: goooood morning :)
I actually heard this on the radio when i was driving into the office this morning; freaking awesome:
Many an evening my dinner is a salad from the salad bar at my local Whole Foods; i like the arrangement: they clean and prepare a myriad of fruits, veggies, and other randomness, i choose what i want that evening, season as i like (salt, pepper, a little olive oil, and way too much balsamic), and pay by weight. Every time i finish making my salad (after tossing frequently to mix the ingredients) i pick a fork from the friendly little fork jar; now, i know that Susie's little girl or Jenny or Jeff who's hands have been lord knows where have possibly touched my fork before I actually chose it, but i try not to think about that.
Instead, i concentrate on making sure from the time I choose my oddly ivory plastic fork it doesn't get dirty - it doesn't touch the cardboard container hosting my salad, it doesn't touch whatever drink i've selected, it doesn't go on the check-out belt and i don't let the checker-outer person handle it. As the smiling person rings up my salad, I keep a hold of my fork, only throwing it in the little paper bag now holding my dinner after said person has finished loading it up.
Usually this bout of childishness gets a smile, a smirk, or a laugh.
But i don't care: it's my fork, dammit, and my dinner, and i'd like to believe that it will be clean when i get it home. So there.
Expression: 









