Disclaimer: I do not own Elijah Wood, but a girl can wish. Morgan Fitzgerald is mine, so please do not attempt to steal her or any of her quirks. Ruby, Georgia, Lily and Stacia are losely based upon friends of mine. Any disrespect done to their character or name is not intentional, it is creative freedom.
Rating: Um...PG-13 for language or would that be R? Let's put it this way, no sex what so ever, just lots of "F-bombs".
Lady Luck
March 17th, 2006 she typed, fingers pounding on the keyboard, hoping to dispel some of her frustration. Worst fucking day ever!
Morgan Fitzgerald practically ran home that day, wanting to reach the sanctity and comfort of her own house, hoping that once she was there that her string of bad luck would end. Upon reaching her apartment, she threw down her briefcase and made a beeline to her computer, and within a few clicks she was logged onto Live Journal and blowing off steam in the safest way possible – a bitchy journal entry.
Honestly, I can’t believe how hellacious today was. Worst day ever doesn’t even begin to describe it. I’m not just talking about one measly thing happened and ruined my day; I’m talking about a string of events that ruined my day. I could have sworn that I woke up on the wrong side of the bed, but I didn’t. Woke up on the right side of the bed as always. So why is it that the gods decided to punish me? I’m a good person, I swear. Okay, maybe I do swear too fucking much…oh…case in point.
Anyway, in list format, the horrible things that happened to me…
1. Right in the middle of shampooing my hair, the hot water ran out. Oh yes that is right, cold shower for me! I hate living in a building that is full of hot water whores, never mind the fact that I have been known to indulge in 20 minute scorching hot showers. That is beside the point.
2. All dolled up wearing my super cute green button down with the French cuffs with my black pencil skirt and oh so cute black vintage pumps, and what happens? If you guessed that I slobbered huge blobs of toothpaste all over the front of my shirt you are correct. Honestly, I’m not two; I know how to brush my teeth, so why can’t I keep the damn toothpaste in my mouth?
3. No time to pick out a new outfit, so just threw on a plain old black sweater. God, it was so depressing, I looked like I should’ve been at a funeral.
4. Because of the toothpaste catastrophe and some stupid St. Patrick’s Day rule, the slimy old security guard felt it was his duty to pinch me every time he saw me. When I would turn and glare he would gleefully giggle and shout, “You’re not wearing green. Ed’s my name and pinching is my game.” Okay, who made up that dumb rule of pinching people that aren’t wearing green? That person needs to die.
5. Due to unfortunate timing, I had to ride up the elevator sandwiched between Pit Stains Paul (Come on, what did you do dude, run a marathon before coming to work! Who has pit stains from excessive sweat before 8AM?!) and Leftovers Larry (who is a guy that doesn’t know what a toothbrush and floss are, for every minute of the day he has some glob of an unidentified type of food group lodged between the cracks in his teeth). Kill me now.
6. The most devastating news, remember that big promotion I was hyped up about, the one that was going to make my career and was pretty much promised to me, yeah, well I didn’t get it. Instead I find out that some bimbo from the fourth floor fucked pretty much everyone on the committee and so now she is sitting in the corner office with a great view of the city.
At this point, Morgan pauses, tears welling up in her eyes as frustration and anger surges through her body. The emotional yet strong willed woman forces herself not to cry. Crying is a sign of weakness she thinks as Mr. Williams’s words echo in her mind, “I’m sorry Morgan, but you aren’t the person for the position. While you are extremely qualified we find you to be…how do I put this…you have a tendency to let you emotions get the best of you and as a result you seem weak. We can’t have someone heading the project that is too lenient, we need a leader with an iron fist and that person is Marlena.”
“Fuck Marlena,” the overwrought blonde spits out like a foul taste in her mouth. Glancing back at the screen, Morgan suddenly has the urge to finish her self loathing entry. Fingers rapidly and furiously pound on the individual keys, Fuck this. It was a crappy day. Life sucks. And I’m mega pissy right now. Hope everyone has a better St. Paddy’s day than me. Luck of the Irish my ass.
Morgan logs out of the popular blogging sight and saunters over to her liquor cabinet. Reaching in, she pulls out a bottle of Belvedere Vodka and murmurs, “Hello Mr. Belvedere. What’s that? Why yes, I am having a horrible day. What is that? Sure, you can make my day better.” Uncapping the bottle she states aloud to no one in particular, “Hit me with your best shot!” and takes a gigantic swig from the bottle.
With a fresh martini in hand, Morgan plops down on her couch, presses play on the remote and watches the images of Robbie Hart and Julia Gulia interact. “You know what I need right now Jose’ and Jack,” she says as she looks at her two cats snuggling on the loveseat. “I need me a Robbie Hart to make me laugh and to brighten up my craptastic day.” The only response was a small meow as Jack snuggled up closer to Jose’. “Right then, you guys could snuggle with me. I am the owner and all,” Morgan scoffed. “Damn cats, so haughty. They snuggle when they want it. Such men.”
Just then the phone rang. Morgan reached for it and debated whether or not to answer it. Deciding to answer, she stated a dull “’hello” into the phone.
“Morgan!” the voice on the other end exclaimed. “Dear what on earth are you doing home on St. Patrick’s Day? You should be out drinking at the bar.”
“Hi mum” Morgan replied flatly.
“Why aren’t you out drinking green beer and enjoying yourself young lady?” her mother scolded.
Morgan sighed. “I just don’t feel like it. It has been a bad day okay. I just am not in the mood to be around people screeching “Kiss me I’m Irish” at the top of their lungs. Not my idea of fun.”
“Come now” was her mother’s retort. “I’m ashamed of you Morgan Killian Fitzgerald. Pappy would be ashamed of you too. Moping about on a day like today.”
The young woman rolled her eyes. A scolding over the phone from her mother was something she didn’t need right now. “Reason 66 why today is the worst day ever” she thought to herself while making a note to add that to her Live Journal entry.
Morgan’s mom continued, “We all promised each other that we would go out on St. Paddy’s day, regardless of what was going on in our lives to honor Pappy’s death. Everyone else is keeping their end of the bargain up, you should too.”
“But mum…”
“No ‘but mum’s to me missy’. Do not make me call Georgia or Ruby and make them drag your butt out to the pubs. What’s that…what….”
Morgan could tell that her mother’s attention was elsewhere and she was thankful for the distraction.
“Morgan, hun, you there? Daddy says hi and says that you need to get your butt to the pub pronto and to show those wanna be Irish guys how it is really done. None of that mamsy pamsy green beer. Guinness is the way to go. Love you. Cheers.”
And with that, her mother was gone and Morgan was left with the annoying drone of dial tone. She shook her head, and groaned outwardly at her crazy family. Really, who the hell honors the death of their grandfather by going out drinking on St. Patrick’s Day? Okay, so he did pass away on St. Patrick’s Day and he was extremely Irish and not to mention he did put it down as his dying wish was to celebrate rather than mourn his death. But come on!
Turning her attention back to the movie, the distinctive sound of her cell phone blaring Madonna distracted her once again. Before answering it she glanced at the caller id and noted a familiar number. Picking up the phone Morgan asked, “Did my mother tell you to call me?”
“Is that any way to greet your friend on the phone?” the voice teased.
“Come off of it Georgie. I’m serious. Did my mum call you?”
“Nope. Haven’t chatted with your mom all day. Which reminds me, I should call her. Anyway, the reason I am calling is to find out why your ass isn’t at McGillicuty’s with the rest of us. Don’t tell me you are still at work?”
“I’m not at work. I’m at home.”
Georgia shrieked into the phone, “Home! What the hell are you doing there? We have a drinking date. You are supposed to be here. It is St. Paddy’s Day. We always drink on St. Paddy’s Day.”
“I’m not having a good day. I’m just going to stay at home. Okay?”
“No. That is not an acceptable excuse. Come on, going out will be good for you” Georgia pestered.
Morgan shook her head and wondered why the concept of her staying home and having a bad day seemed so foreign to everyone. “Look, Georgie. I understand what you are trying to do. I’m just not up to it. Give everyone my love and I will talk to you guys later.”
Georgia sighed on the other end of the phone. “Fine. I will tell everyone. But I know the girls aren’t going to take this well. Lily has been waiting weeks to see you. She finally has a free night and now you are refusing to come out.”
Morgan interrupted, “I know what you are doing. Guilt is not going to work. That is my final answer. Talk to you later.” And with that she snapped her cell phone shut ending the conversation.
Not even a minute later her phone was buzzing alerting Morgan of a text message. It was Ruby essentially threatening to come and drag her out of the house if she wasn’t at the pub in 15 minutes.
Suddenly the phone buzzes again, another text message. This one from Stacia. She seemed to be a bit more understanding, but also going for the guilt thing. The message was essentially her stating that all of the girls haven’t been together in ages and that she was really looking forward to spending some quality time together.
Morgan sighed. Damn, they were good. Polishing off her martini she glanced at her cell phone and contemplated calling her friends, but decided that she would rather wallow in self pity.
A shrill ringing filled the air again, this time her home phone. She let the answering machine get it, noting the mechanical sound of her voice on the answering machine. The sound of Lily’s shrill voice came pouring through the speaker. “Mo. Mo. Mo,” the girl sang over and over. “Pick up the phone. I know you are home, Mo, Mo, Mo. Come out to the bar Mo, Mo, Mo. Please, please, please or I will be forced to sing to you like this over and over until you show up, up, up. Don’t make me mention your Grandpappy, pappy, pappy. Oops I did it again!”
“Oh no she didn’t” Morgan muttered to herself. Lurching towards the phone, she picked up and said “Honestly woman!”
Upon hearing Mo’s voice on the line Lily shrieked in glee, “I knew it would work. Come on. Come out with us,” she whined in her best little girl voice that seemed to have a weird affect on men of all ages.
“Lil’, I’ve had a shitty day.”
Before Morgan could even continue, Lily announced, “Well, that is all the more reason for you to come out. Besides, if you don’t we are going to continue to bombard you with text messages, voice mails, and answering machine messages.” Morgan knew she wasn’t kidding either.
Sighing, Morgan caved in. “Fine,” she grunted into the phone. “I’ll be to McGillicuty’s in 15 minutes.” Before hanging up she heard the sound of all four girls rejoicing in triumph.
20 minutes later
Morgan impatiently strides into the bar and to the table where her friends are frantically flailing about to get her attention. Lily motions to her cell phone, “I was seriously just about to call you and give you shit about why you weren’t here.”
“But we decided to give you a few more minutes, just incase you were stuck in line” Ruby says as she mentions to the entrance.
“Well that was real sweet of you,” Morgan replies sarcastically. “When the hell did this place get so damn popular? I’ve never had to stand in line to get inside. That is just ridiculous.”
Adding to the conversation Stacia replies with a shrug of her shoulders, “It’s St. Patrick’s Day. Everyone wants to pretend they are Irish and drink green beverages.”
“Well that is just dumb,” Morgan mutters.
“What’s eating you Mr. Grumpy Gills” Ruby questions with a small grin.
“Dude, you just watched ‘Finding Nemo’ again with your little nephew didn’t you” Morgan states to the known movie buff. Ruby just nodded her head in agreement. “Well, I happen to be having the world’s worst day ever.” Morgan then proceeded to give an in depth account of her day, leaving no detail out for her friends.
Minutes later, Morgan stated, “And thus concludes a look into the world’s worst day as experienced by Morgan Fitzgerald. Now do you understand why I wasn’t so keen on coming out and was fine with drinking myself into a pleasant state of numb with my friend Belvedere Vodka?”
The girls nodded in understanding and each expressing words of sympathy. “Look, I know that you are really bummed out by the promotion, but you can’t let that get you down,” Georgia countered.
“Yeah, you didn’t even want to be in charge of that project anyway. Didn’t you tell me you thought it was dumb?” Stacia offered.
“I suppose you are right,” Morgan muttered. “I just can’t help but feel like a failure, I just wanted it so bad, and I wanted to prove everyone wrong. And all I did was reaffirm their beliefs…that I am a worthless bag of…”
“Hey now!” Ruby interrupted. “There will be no talk of worthlessness at this table. I know we can’t change your line of thinking about it, but let’s just forget about it for tonight. You can wallow all you want tomorrow, for tonight is about drinking and having fun with friends. Now if you will excuse me, I think shots are in order.”
Ruby walked up to the bar as the group groaned at the thought of shots, well, except for Stacia, she was the only one excited about the thought of downing Jameson whiskey.
While Ruby was away tending to shots, the conversation slowly drifted towards what most women talk about in bars….men and sex. Stacia spoke of her undying crush on her neighbor in her apartment complex, Dom and how he was in a band and just oh so fricken hot. Lily babbled on about the earth shattering night she spent with a Broadway actor that she met only a few days ago in a coffee shop. She said not only is he good in bed, but he was going to be somebody big some day…some Johnny Depp feller. Just as Georgia began to babble on about Billy, the new guy she was dating, Morgan groaned aloud.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me! Kill me now” she screeched.
“What” the girls questioned, Ruby included, who just joined the conversation with drinks in hand.
Pointing in the direction of one booth over, Morgan states through gritted teeth, “Can you believe it? There is my fucking ex and he is with that damn hoochie mama that I caught him in bed with while he was supposedly too sick to hang out with me. Fucking wanker!”
“I’ll go kick his ass if you want me to,” Lily offers.
“Grrrr…damn that Ben Whofleck and his skanky ass whore Jennifer,” Georgia growls. “He was worthless. I never understood what you saw in him in the first place.”
Defeated, Morgan slumps back into her seat. In a small voice she answers, “He was funny.”
“Funny!” Stacia exclaims. “No hun, funny was his friend, that Matty character. Not Ben.”
“God,” groans Morgan, “Reason 75 why this day is the Worst Day Ever! Could it get any worse?”
“Let’s not think about it. Let’s drink instead” Lily offers. And that is what the girls do.
Half an hour later, and many beers later, Morgan excuses herself and heads off in the direction of the bathroom. Only to be greeted by yet another line. After what seems like an eternity, which really was only 15 minutes, Morgan makes her way to the table where they were seated. Only to find that her friends no longer inhabit the space, but rather some burly guys with their faces painted green.
Morgan frantically scans the bar looking for any sign of her friends. Frustrated she makes her way to the bar where she runs smack into a rather intoxicated male who shouts “Hey baby! Kiss me I’m Irish!” as he grabs hold of her and smothers her with his own foul smelling mouth.
Once the Neanderthal releases his grip and goes on his merry way, Morgan curses to herself and mumbles, “Reason 82 why today is the worst day ever. Being manhandled by some gross extremely wasted man who oddly resembles my Uncle Todd.”
Sliding up to the bar, Morgan is able to score a bar stool from the man that graciously leaves as he tips his green felt fedora hat in her direction. Catching the attention of the bartender Morgan shouts, “Have you seen three fiery redheads and a brunette anywhere?” Morgan knew it was a long shot, but it didn’t hurt to try. To her surprise, the bartender had indeed seen four ladies that met the description of Ruby, Georgie, Lily and Stacia. The bartender mentioned that they left a message for her and handed over a folded bar napkin.
Scrawled on the napkin in Ruby’s distinctive handwriting was a message. “Mo – Went to The Harp to meet up with the guys. Johnny is going to be there and so is that Dom fellow. Both Lily and Stacia wanted to meet up with them. Meet us there.”
Leaning back in the bar stool, Morgan exclaimed. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! I can’t believe they left me here. Especially for a piece of ass. Seriously, this is the worst fucking day ever.”
The bartender appeared in front of Morgan with a glass of green beer and stated, “Looks like you could use this right about now.” Less than thrilled with the green beverage Morgan thankfully took it and proceeded to chug it. Slamming the beer mug down on the bar, Morgan turned to the right and noticed a strange guy dressed as a Leprechaun staring at her with huge blue eyes.
“Great” she thought to herself. “Note to self, add this to LJ. Left at bar by friends. Abandoned for guys. No chance of finding them at The Harp due to extensive lines and extreme crowds due to the holiday and above all, weird strange guy sitting next to me at the bar is wearing a Leprechaun suit. Did I mention worst day ever?”
Motioning for the bartender to bring another drink, Morgan continued to mutter to herself at her most unfortunately luck. “I can’t believe they left me here. At least they left a note, but god, they left me for some guys. What happened to our rule? Never leave your buddy at the bar?”
“Dudes before boobs” a voice suddenly stated. Turning to the right, Morgan was once again faced with the Leprechaun guy staring at her.
“Excuse me,” she said.
The guy repeated himself, “I said, Dudes before Boobs. That is our rule. Well, supposedly our rule, but my friends break it all the time.”
Morgan stared at the guy as if he had sprouted a third head, not quite sure what he was talking about.
“I’m sorry to eavesdrop on your personal conversation,” the guy in the green suit said. “But I couldn’t help but hear that your friends left to go meet up with some guys and that they broke your ‘golden’ rule. So I thought I would share our similar rule.”
“Oh” was all Morgan could reply at the moment.
“So, do you want to talk about it?”
“I’m sorry” Morgan said, turning once again to face the guy sitting next to her.
“About your day. Do you want to talk about it? You mentioned it was the worst day ever.”
Morgan just stared blankly at the guy in front of her.
“Come on, it can’t be that bad. Besides, at least you aren’t wearing a damn leprechaun outfit” the blue eyed guy said with a smile. “To me, that is the epitome of a bad day.”
Morgan grimaced. “That is it. That is all you got. Your bad day consists of you wearing a leprechaun suit.” Snorting she added, “You probably do it on purpose. Hell, for all I know you do it to hit on chicks.” The blonde paused and took a sip of beer, “Oh god.” She looked at the young man next to her and exclaimed, “You are doing it to meet chicks.”
The guy shook his head from side to side and smiled into his beer before taking a huge gulp. “You know, I wish that were the case.”
“Well, if you aren’t doing it for attention, why then?”
“I lost a bet” he simply said.
“A bet?”
“Yep. Sucks doesn’t it. My friend thought it would be hilarious since I am a bit on the short stature side to make me dress up as a leprechaun. You know what really sucks, is all these really drunk big guys keep picking me up and hoisting me over the shoulder shouting about how they found a leprechaun and now they want their pot o’ gold.”
“Sorry to hear that,” Morgan added, even though she really wasn’t all that sorry.
The two sat in silence for a bit, Morgan mulling over her bad luck and mentally thinking about what a great entry this would make for her journal, while the little leprechaun boy starred sullenly into his bright green beer.
Morgan suddenly had this nagging feeling, the sudden desire to share some information with her new leprechaun friend. He did share his embarrassing story about being tossed over the shoulder of burly men in the bar. The least she could do was return the favor. Besides, maybe bitching to a complete stranger would be therapeutic.
Still glancing straight ahead, twirling her beer mug on the bar, Morgan stated, “So earlier today my mum called me from some rowdy Irish pub and scolded me for being at home. You see, my Grandpappy passed away three years ago today, and since then it has been tradition to go out and celebrate his life and honor him by having a good time. I was having a shitty day and so I wasn’t going to go out. So yeah, my mum calls and tells me I am disrespecting my family. I’m in my fucking late twenties and my mother calls me and scolds me on the telephone while she is out getting sloshed. It doesn’t get any worse than that.”
The man next to her pipes up, “I’m sorry to hear that. About your grandfather and your mother yelling at you. Sucks.” Morgan glances sideways at him and studies the young man as he guzzles his green beer. “You know,” he continues, “I don’t even like green beer. It gives me the runs.” Morgan’s eyes grow wide at the comment. “Oh man, I am sorry,” leprechaun boy replies. “I have this habit of sharing too much information when I drink.”
“S’okay, I have brothers,” Morgan states evenly. “I don’t get grossed out by that kind of stuff. Just kind of takes me by surprise sometimes.” Pausing for a sip of beer she adds, “So you want to hear more about my day?”
The man nods in response.
“You know pet experts say that cats and dogs and can sense when their owner is having a bad day and will often snuggle and cuddle with them in attempt to make them feel better. It’s like they can sense your mood. So, I come home expecting and hoping for Jose’ and Jack…”
“Jose’ as in Jose Cuervo and Jack as in Jack Danielson” the man interrupts.
“Yep. They are my cats. Anyway, so I was hoping that they would want to snuggle with me and make me feel loved. But no, they would rather clean each other’s asses than be nice to me. How is that for fucking loving pets?”
“Harsh.”
“Yeah.”
“My gold fish, Mr. Guppy croaked today. I had to flush him down the toilet. I would say that constitutes having a bad day.”
Morgan glanced at her neighbor, “Your goldfish was named, Mr. Guppy?”
The guy smirked, “Yeah, I know. My nephew named him.”
“Sorry to hear about Mr. Guppy. That always sucks.”
“Well, my day gets worse” he continues. “So I went into my favorite coffee shop this morning to get my daily fix. I get my gigantic cup of coffee and as I’m heading out of the door, this chick runs smack into me. Picture this, coffee flying everywhere; we are both coated in it. Ruins my favorite Ramones t-shirt.”
“That sucks,” Morgan laments.
“Oh it gets worse. Then this chick’s friend starts screeching ‘Frodo lives’ or some shit like that. Fucking nut job. I ran out of the place before she started going all psycho on me.”
Morgan scrunches her face up in confusion, “So what was with the ‘Frodo lives’ stuff?”
“Oh, I guess I look like that dude that played Frodo. Elijah what’s his face.”
Morgan took in the appearance of the man next to her. She could see a similarity to the famous actor Elijah Wood. Both of them had amazingly large and beautiful blue eyes, porcelain skin, and that geeky but lovable look to them. “Yeah, I can see the resemblance.”
“You want to know what is really freaky” the little man questioned. “My name is also Elijah. Elijah Woodham and he is Elijah Wood. Fucking scary, isn’t it?”
Morgan had to agree it was a bit odd, maybe not scary, but definitely ironic. “I spilled toothpaste all over my green shirt and as a result some scary old guy kept pinching me.”
This admission had Elijah nearly choking on his green beer. He countered with, “Well, my friends told me to meet them at this bar, but then ditched me and went to a different one, all for a chick. And I’m wearing this damn itchy leprechaun suit,” as he itched his chest.
“My friends left me for a piece also.” And so they continued like this, both bantering back and forth, discussing their bad days and trying to out do each other as if it were some kind of competition to see who had the worst luck.
“That’s nothing,” Morgan stated as she drained another beer. “I was up for this really big promotion. I thought I had in the bag, so did everyone else. I was the most qualified, I had the most experience but did I get it. Fuck no. They gave it some whore who has nothing on her resume except for all the different board directors that she’s fucked or sucked. I wanted that promotion so bad I could taste it. That promotion was my life. I have failed in the biggest way possible as a human being.”
Elijah eyed Morgan sympathetically. “Aww…Morgan, don’t feel that way. You are not a failure….”
But before Elijah could continue whatever pep talked he had for Morgan, he was lifted out of his seat by a huge man. The man had to be six feet tall, and built like a brick shit house. He was bald, he was menacing and above all he was wasted beyond belief. His large mouth opened and he bellowed out, “Say it” as he shock Elijah as if he were a little rag doll.
Morgan couldn’t believe the sight before her, it seemed so surreal. The gigantic man continued to shake Elijah and repeated over and over, “Say it” in a booming voice.
In between shakes, Elijah cried out in a high pitch voice, “Aye! Me Lucky Charms. They are magically delicious!”
This seemed to be what the giant was after for he immediately stopped shaking Elijah and laughed in a very girlish fashion and set the wee leprechaun down and was on his merry way.
Morgan stared wide eyed at Elijah in utter belief. “See,” he muttered before guzzling the rest of his beer, “that is what I have been dealing with all night. Fucking unreal. I’m sorry, Morgan, but missed promotion or not, it does not and I repeat, does not get worse than that.”
Morgan couldn’t help herself. Maybe it was the combination of the number of beers and the fact that she was sitting next to guy in a leprechaun suit but she bust out in a fit of giggles. She was laughing so hard that tears streamed down her face and she clutched her hands to her waist, hoping to subside some of the pain.
“Well, I am glad you find that so fucking hilarious” Elijah scoffed.
The blonde giggled some more. “I’m sorry” she said in between giggles. “You said ‘they are magically delicious’. I just find that so hilarious.”
Elijah’s mock hurt face was replaced with a grin, a small lopsided one. “There, that wasn’t so hard now was it?”
“What” Morgan questioned, wondering what she had missed and what he was talking about.
“Smiling and laughing. That was the first time I’ve seen you do it since we have been talking.”
Sheepishly Morgan shrugged. “Yeah, I guess I was in a pretty foul mood before. Sorry about that. It’s just…you know, I have such bad luck.”
With a grin, Elijah replied, “Well, maybe our bad luck is changing.” Pointing to his ridiculous getup he cheekily added, “Maybe it is the luck of the Irish.”
Oh, Bear!!! Oh, Bear, how you crack me up! A St. Paddy's Day story after my own heart! SP Day! squee! Gosh, there are so many glorious things in here, and so many times that I threw my head back, screaming with laughter. Your humor is always so wonderful. I have missed reading your work! *hint, hint, nudge nudge*
Of course, I loved this story for I love all stories that center around bad luck....guess cuz they seem familiar to me. ;-) It did, indeed, seem like a tough day for Morgan. Let's see, must quote what I particularly enjoyed...
| QUOTE |
| If you guessed that I slobbered huge blobs of toothpaste |
The word 'slobbered' made me shriek and flail in glee. I just love that word.
| QUOTE |
| Ed’s my name and pinching is my game |
:lmao: Any phrase that does the whole name and game rhyme makes me so happy! Those blasted pinchers! We had a high school teacher who was a perv and he always pinched us on St. Paddy's Day. grrr!
| QUOTE |
| “What’s eating you Mr. Grumpy Gills” Ruby questions with a small grin. |
Let's just say the thought of Mena saying that made me giggle for a good five minutes!
| QUOTE |
| “Grrrr…damn that Ben Whofleck and his skanky ass whore Jennifer,” Georgia growls. “He was worthless. I never understood what you saw in him in the first place.” |
This about killed me with laughter!!!!!!!!! You are such a genius to put them in as regular people, and then call him Whofleck! ahhhhhh! I love it!!!
| QUOTE |
| The guy repeated himself, “I said, Dudes before Boobs. |
Oh my...a baby Lij look alike saying this was enough to make me shriek loudly and girlishly!
| QUOTE |
You know what really sucks, is all these really drunk big guys keep picking me up and hoisting me over the shoulder shouting about how they found a leprechaun and now they want their pot o’ gold.”
|
Ahhh! Poor Wee-lijah! This was so hilarious! How did you think of this??? :laugh:
| QUOTE |
But no, they would rather clean each other’s asses than be nice to me. How is that for fucking loving pets?”
|
I think that line probably got the biggest laugh out of me. So unexpected, yet so true!!!!!
| QUOTE |
| With a grin, Elijah replied, “Well, maybe our bad luck is changing.” Pointing to his ridiculous getup he cheekily added, “Maybe it is the luck of the Irish.” |
Awww! *smashes* I love him!
And, I love you, Bear! This story was so fun and cute and funny. I am really glad you shared it with us...as I said, I had been missing your writing skills. You've got skills, lady, you need to share 'em! :yes: Anyhow, miss you, too. And, thanks for posting this! Has made my study filled day brighter!
I heart green beverages!