Went into Ulta about a week ago to buy some moisturizer. They tried to sell me on a rewards card, and they eventually wore me down. And then, a few days ago, I remembered exactly why they needed to wear me down: they did what they could to sell me a credit card and I got the bill for it. They didn't even apply the 10% discount they promised. So, Dad went there to yell at the people who sold it to me, and they decided that the best thing to do was wait for the card to come, pay it off, and then be done with it. I've decided if I were to go there again, I would say no. If that didn't work, (which, given what happened this time, is a distinct possibility), and a more forceful "No" didn't cut it, I'll create some ludicrously impossible task for them to accomplish. On the lower end of the scale would be, well, this:
Although without the clothes removal, since the person who'd do it is likely a woman, in fact, the person at the register has been a woman every time I can remember and that would just be too weird, which segues me into the other extreme of ludicrousness:
Go to Black Rock Desert volcanic field in Utah. This is the nearest volcano to me to have erupted in the past 1000 years. There you will find a volcano god whose name currently escapes me. You will have sex with him, and he likes pegging. Guard the strap-on you use with your life and, for fuck's sake, don't wash it. I will only set up another card if you hand me the lava-and-santorum-encrusted strap-on or provide me ample proof that the NSA sent a herd of zombie goats to abscond with it. If it's the FBI or CIA who sent the herd of zombie goats to take it, forget it.
Admittedly more sexual, but I think it's packed with enough obvious absurdity that they'd get the hint that I don't think this would count.
Although without the clothes removal, since the person who'd do it is likely a woman, in fact, the person at the register has been a woman every time I can remember and that would just be too weird, which segues me into the other extreme of ludicrousness:
Go to Black Rock Desert volcanic field in Utah. This is the nearest volcano to me to have erupted in the past 1000 years. There you will find a volcano god whose name currently escapes me. You will have sex with him, and he likes pegging. Guard the strap-on you use with your life and, for fuck's sake, don't wash it. I will only set up another card if you hand me the lava-and-santorum-encrusted strap-on or provide me ample proof that the NSA sent a herd of zombie goats to abscond with it. If it's the FBI or CIA who sent the herd of zombie goats to take it, forget it.
Admittedly more sexual, but I think it's packed with enough obvious absurdity that they'd get the hint that I don't think this would count.
Comparing the Universal Oneness of All Life to Yo Mama since 2010.
I was born with the gift of laughter and a sense the world is mad.
I was born with the gift of laughter and a sense the world is mad.