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We got this Yoda action figure in at work today that is hilarious:

He’s totally grabbing his little green Jedi crotch! Thus I went around today cracking myself up saying, “Deeeez Nuuutz! mmmm! Lick them you will!” Squeals really needs to say it, though– he’s the master of impersonating Yoda.

Anyway, that was the high point of my day– I spent the rest of it feeling completely nauseous and dizzy (thanks, brain chemistry!)– it was really annoying. I kept getting these massive dizzy spells, and I’d have to grab onto something to keep from falling over. I just looked like a major drunk. Luckily, I didn’t burst into tears at any random point today. That’s always a plus. I felt like brutally massacring one customer lady, but that’s a lot different from sobbing uncontrollably.

This lady heard something on NPR. That right there is trouble. Whenever these Volvo-driving NPR worshipping Baby Boomers hear something from Terri Gross and then try to buy it, it’s a disaster. Either they tuned in late and can’t remember anything about it (like the name), or they start lecturing about the significance of the music (like this lady) without giving me any useful information that I might find it. Thus, she kept saying “Briana.” It’s a song by “Briana” that “might be reggae, but might be salsa. It’s going to be the big club hit of the summer.” Thus I looked up Briana, Brianna, Breana, Breanna, Bryana, Bryanna, Breeana etc., and found nothing. The song was called “I think something like ‘panda’.” Again, nothing. I spent a good deal of time trying to track down this Brianna while the lady disapprovingly said stuff like, ‘well, I’ll just have to look on Limewire. I thought for a change maybe I’d support an artist, rather than illegally download their music, but it looks like I’m not.”

By this point, I was picturing her head rolling down the aisle, spewing blood all over the International section, where she was clucking her tongue disapprovingly as she pawed the 3 CDs under “Caribbean,” like if she fondled each one enough, it would magically transform into “Breanna” for her. She kept telling me about how this person is a platinum -selling artist, and she didn’t understand ahy we wouldn’t know who she is, because she’s a “platinum artist” blah blah blah “platinum artist platinum artist platinum artist.” Oh yeah, and she’s from “the West Indies.” I tried to mention that she may be a platinum selling artist in wherever her home country is, and have it still be possible for people to not know who she is here. “Well, she’s going to have the biggest club disco hit of the summer. They said so on NPR.” The operative phrase is “going to.” Perhaps her CD hasn’t been released yet? I mention that a lot of times you hear stuff on the radio that hasn’t actually been released yet. Of course I was wrong, the NPR listener invoking the magical phrase “platinum artist” a couple more times.

Thus, spending like 20 minutes trying to track down this Brionna person, I gave up. The lady, who had mentioned like 100 times that she thought that “Sparky’s Media Emporium would be the ones that could help [her]” and implied that we were all a bunch of retards and completely untrustworthy, finally left.

Of course, 2 minutes after she split, I happened to look at the playlist for the local hip hop station, where a certain song “Pon de Replay” (oh yeah, the “panda” song!) by a RIHANNA was listed. I ran out the door to find the lady, clipboard in hand, but she had already crossed the street, and was heading to Whole Foods (quelle suprise!). I didn’t run after her.

With my 2-second checking, it looks like you can only get Rihanna’s CDs by import here anyway.

DEEEEEZZ NUUUUUTZ!!! Lick them, she can!