We had a pregnant 15-year-old come in today after being elbowed in the eye playing basketball at the Special Olympics. It was like meeting all of Sarah Palin's kids at once.
Also, what sort of a retard plays basketball when they're pregnant?-- Oh.. right.
Showing posts with label Retardation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Retardation. Show all posts
Monday, August 2, 2010
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Am I going to need a helmet for this?
In continuation of a previous post: http://kimwar.blogspot.com/2009/11/did-we-ever-find-out-what-was-eating.html
I still think there is a chance that I'm involved in an elaborate conspiracy to conceal the fact that I am a full blown retard. But I'm still in the process of collection evidence. Yesterday I got a little closer to the truth. To explain, let me first say that our office has a very relaxed dress code. Some people wear flip flops, some people where sweatpants, I normally wear scrubs, and on Mondays and Wednesdays when I do office work, I wear appropriate office clothing. Yesterday, Monday, I wore a sailor's outfit. I don't know why. This weekend at TJMaxx I found a blue and white striped cardigan with gold buttons, and it matched perfectly with a pair of white button-front pants that I already had at home, so I picked it up. It was exactly the kind of outfit that would look adorable on a child, or maybe a terrier. And when I strolled into work that morning, my co-workers didn't say a GD thing to me about it. It probably just looked natural to them, like I was coming into my own. Just as a man-child looks natural in a pair of well-worn overalls, perhaps I was meant to wear dog-costumes. I am currently on the look out for a adult sized pink, prima-ballerina outfit.
All this brings me to my main point. That fact that I have a job that I wear scrubs bothers me. Don't get me wrong, I like my scrubs, but don't scrubs look suspiciously like pajamas? And I don't know about you, but when I see someone out and about in pajamas, I tend to wonder if they're retarded. And thus, I rest my case. For now anyway.
I still think there is a chance that I'm involved in an elaborate conspiracy to conceal the fact that I am a full blown retard. But I'm still in the process of collection evidence. Yesterday I got a little closer to the truth. To explain, let me first say that our office has a very relaxed dress code. Some people wear flip flops, some people where sweatpants, I normally wear scrubs, and on Mondays and Wednesdays when I do office work, I wear appropriate office clothing. Yesterday, Monday, I wore a sailor's outfit. I don't know why. This weekend at TJMaxx I found a blue and white striped cardigan with gold buttons, and it matched perfectly with a pair of white button-front pants that I already had at home, so I picked it up. It was exactly the kind of outfit that would look adorable on a child, or maybe a terrier. And when I strolled into work that morning, my co-workers didn't say a GD thing to me about it. It probably just looked natural to them, like I was coming into my own. Just as a man-child looks natural in a pair of well-worn overalls, perhaps I was meant to wear dog-costumes. I am currently on the look out for a adult sized pink, prima-ballerina outfit.
All this brings me to my main point. That fact that I have a job that I wear scrubs bothers me. Don't get me wrong, I like my scrubs, but don't scrubs look suspiciously like pajamas? And I don't know about you, but when I see someone out and about in pajamas, I tend to wonder if they're retarded. And thus, I rest my case. For now anyway.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Did we ever find out what was eating Gilbert Grape?
It has been brought to my attention that I may be a retard.
I can't say that there weren't signs: People calling me adorable, or patting me in the head like a child, when in reality I'm an average sized human being and lack any adorable traits. Or My boss congratulated me on a job well done when the job I did wasn't done very well. Or My boyfriend constantly calling me a retard.
What if everyone is in on it? My parents, and my 'friends'; I graduated college a semester early-- but what if I didn't actually graduate at all? What if I'm not actually getting paid money at my job right now, but sparkly stickers? What if I'm not even typing right now, but instead drawing pictures of kitty cats on an old white board?
But, of course, if I was retarded, I would know. Wouldn't I? But then, That girl in my high school, the one with downs syndrome who thought my female friend was a boy and would call her 'handsome' and give her pictures of them holding hands-- she didn't know. She thought she was Normal.
But... All that being considered... things are going pretty well for good ol' RetardKim, so, I'm not about to rock the boat.
I can't say that there weren't signs: People calling me adorable, or patting me in the head like a child, when in reality I'm an average sized human being and lack any adorable traits. Or My boss congratulated me on a job well done when the job I did wasn't done very well. Or My boyfriend constantly calling me a retard.
What if everyone is in on it? My parents, and my 'friends'; I graduated college a semester early-- but what if I didn't actually graduate at all? What if I'm not actually getting paid money at my job right now, but sparkly stickers? What if I'm not even typing right now, but instead drawing pictures of kitty cats on an old white board?
But, of course, if I was retarded, I would know. Wouldn't I? But then, That girl in my high school, the one with downs syndrome who thought my female friend was a boy and would call her 'handsome' and give her pictures of them holding hands-- she didn't know. She thought she was Normal.
But... All that being considered... things are going pretty well for good ol' RetardKim, so, I'm not about to rock the boat.
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