five questions from an idiot (me)
BLECH. AM SICK.
The worst part about this particular brand of flu/cold? It tricks you into thinking you're healthy for about two days before it drags you under again. Evil, yo. Evil. At least I feel better today than I felt yesterday. Ick.
My brain feels all discombobulated right now. I'm dazed and confused, and I can't remember things, like what I'm supposed to be doing today at work, or what my middle name is (Samantha? Melanie? Frank? I DO NOT KNOW). Therefore, I ask for your help. There are things bugging my brain.
1) Okay, what was the name of that Star Trek: The Next Generation episode where Q and Picard have sex? What? No, it did happen. I swear it. Didn't it?
2) Where the fuck is my flying car? IT IS THE YEAR 2005, PEOPLE. FLYING CARS ARE SUPPOSED TO BE STANDARD. At least, that's what the "timeline of the future" in my freshman-year history class said, and I know that the fine people of the South Carolina Public Education Department wouldn't lie to me. Why are you laughing?
3) Why, oh why, does my dog now find it funny to wake me up by literally slapping me in the face with her paw? She has done this twice in a row now. She just WHACKS me in the face with her paw, and then licks my face in a frenzy until I get up and do whatever it is she wants me to do. I mean, yeah, it's effective and all, but damn, dog. It's not ... oh, fuck it, it's pretty cute. DAMN HER.
4) What did I do with all those millions and millions of Spanish gold doubloons? I swear I had them yesterday. Was I dreaming again? DAMMIT. Then that means that Colonel Sanders stole them when we went surfing together.
5) Which one of you dirty bitches got me sick in the first place? *glares suspiciously in annakovsky's direction, just because she is Kovsky and therefore instantly suspect*
Thanks for the help, maggots. I'm going to go lick the wallpaper again. THE SNOZBERRIES TASTE LIKE SNOZBERRIES.
PS -- I cannot spell today. Have mercy. It's the phlegm.
The worst part about this particular brand of flu/cold? It tricks you into thinking you're healthy for about two days before it drags you under again. Evil, yo. Evil. At least I feel better today than I felt yesterday. Ick.
My brain feels all discombobulated right now. I'm dazed and confused, and I can't remember things, like what I'm supposed to be doing today at work, or what my middle name is (Samantha? Melanie? Frank? I DO NOT KNOW). Therefore, I ask for your help. There are things bugging my brain.
1) Okay, what was the name of that Star Trek: The Next Generation episode where Q and Picard have sex? What? No, it did happen. I swear it. Didn't it?
2) Where the fuck is my flying car? IT IS THE YEAR 2005, PEOPLE. FLYING CARS ARE SUPPOSED TO BE STANDARD. At least, that's what the "timeline of the future" in my freshman-year history class said, and I know that the fine people of the South Carolina Public Education Department wouldn't lie to me. Why are you laughing?
3) Why, oh why, does my dog now find it funny to wake me up by literally slapping me in the face with her paw? She has done this twice in a row now. She just WHACKS me in the face with her paw, and then licks my face in a frenzy until I get up and do whatever it is she wants me to do. I mean, yeah, it's effective and all, but damn, dog. It's not ... oh, fuck it, it's pretty cute. DAMN HER.
4) What did I do with all those millions and millions of Spanish gold doubloons? I swear I had them yesterday. Was I dreaming again? DAMMIT. Then that means that Colonel Sanders stole them when we went surfing together.
5) Which one of you dirty bitches got me sick in the first place? *glares suspiciously in annakovsky's direction, just because she is Kovsky and therefore instantly suspect*
Thanks for the help, maggots. I'm going to go lick the wallpaper again. THE SNOZBERRIES TASTE LIKE SNOZBERRIES.
PS -- I cannot spell today. Have mercy. It's the phlegm.