Tuesday, May 13, 2008

I Picked a Booger, a Booger Picked Me

My officemate, Miss, moved out of her Brooklyn apartment because she bought a house in New Jersey, and now she does that long-ass driving commute thing. Generally, folks who move to Jersey are dead to me, but we work together, so Miss is still alive for now. This morning she told me about her commute:

"So, Anne. Listen. I gotta tell you something. So this morning, we're driving in the car. And you know how when you look over and you see someone drivin' next to you, diggin', diggin' for gold up their nose? Well, I see a guy doin' that, and I was digusted. And the more I look at him, the more disgusted I get, and I turn to my husband to tell him about it, and there's my husband, diggin', with his finger in his nose."

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Ha, ha. Pretty funny. And we're actually thinking of moving to NJ. Guess I'm NEVER doing Mortified again, huh. xo Hyjack

newbluebaby said...

I'm dead huh? Well then. This dead guy will find himself an even FUNNIER blog... in NEW JERSEY!!!



it make take a while, but i'll do it!

anne altman said...

awwwwwwwwww. listen up. hoboken ain't jersey. it's a cheaper, quainter part of manhattan that's somewhere near the sub-basement of Macy's and slightly annoying reach.

Anonymous said...

I think it was George Carlin who proffered advice on where to put a picked booger. He suggested placing it in the other nostril.