May 18th, 2001

mr. robin

To bagel or not to bagel

I can't decide if I should go downstairs and get a bagel or not.

I sorta want one, but I don't really NEED one, so I probably shouldn't. On the other hand, it's Friday. Friday is bagel day, right? It was in this place I used to work at. The had free bagels and cream cheese upstairs. It seems like such a little thing, but it always made the mornings fly by. Like how I can wear jeans on Fridays. I love it. It makes Fridays so much sweeter. When I see people who aren't dressed down on Fridays, I want to grip them at the shoulders and shake them and say, "It's Friday, Man! Why aren't you wearing jeans? You're ALLOWED to, why aren't you wearing them?" I suppose it's their own business, though.

And it's already after 10:30. I should just wait until lunch. But maybe if I get a bagel, I won't need to eat lunch at all.

Eh, fuck it, I'm going down. It's Friday.
mr. robin

wiggle joint

The Southern-style buffet downstairs is called Delilah's, which I always find moderately amusing, because Delilah's is also the name of the famousest (or at least, the only one that I've been to) strip club in Philly.

Breasteses aside, though, I kind of like the name Delilah. When I was little and lived in Queens, there were two girls (probably in their twenties) who lived next door to us, and they had a weiner dog named Delillah. In England, they call them "sausage dogs".

I like weiner dogs. I think I want one, someday. Not yet, though. I'm not responsible enough. And I'm very, very terrified of commitment.