(no subject)
Look it's fucking Friday and I just don't really want to hear any more lip from you about it, dig?! Jeebus. What the fuck is it with everyone trying to convince me otherwise today?!!
Douchebags.
I fucking hate everyone I know. Hairy, lippy INFLUENCERS. My fucking husband got it into his fool head that I can't be running around in $29.99 Walmart boots anymore just because they're cracking clean open and the heel was hanging off one of them. "Go buy some expensive boots" says he, like we can fucking afford them. Yeah, I know, I'm the only woman on the planet who needs a gun put to her head to make her shell out for expensive footware. Fortunately for Fratboy he has a gun now, hence I have new boots now too. Except if you're gonna spend money on boots they'd better be NiceBoots™ and those are never flat and comfortable and now I look fabulous but my feet hurt and I've been fighting with myself all damned day about why men don't have to totter around on stupid stilts (which are actually maybe 2 inches high but whatever, that's SO NOT THE POINT HERE) and who got it in their fool head that women should and do we really like them and think they look good or have we just been brainwashed and blah blah blah shut the fuck up already brain.
Jeebus.
You'd think I had nothing better to do than sit around and aggravate myself all damned day. Ordinarily you wouldn't be wrong but I'm actually fucking busy right now, okay man? I ain't got time for your blisters and bullshit.
And Poland has me fucking addicted to Nesquick again. The only thing better than a giant bowl of Nesquick is a giant bowl of Nesquick with a giant bag of Whopper eggs as a chaser. I'm surprised my teeth haven't just jumped clean out of my head in suicidal angst. Cuz if you're going to be staggering around in new stilts there's nothing more sexy than doing it toothless.
And I'm on book 3 of the Twilight series and I'm kind of over it already. It was all swoony and fun for a while there but then it got all too virginal and epically clear what the difference between me and teenagers is...
Incidentally it is more challenging to create stick figure sex than I would have guessed.
And so I gots nothing, mang. Fitzy's birthday is in a week and a half and I still have no clue what we're getting him. I have a bajillion things to do and YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!
I'll probably beat someone up at the gym tonight.
Again.
Stop looking at me like that!!
YOU WANNA GO??!
Douchebags.
I fucking hate everyone I know. Hairy, lippy INFLUENCERS. My fucking husband got it into his fool head that I can't be running around in $29.99 Walmart boots anymore just because they're cracking clean open and the heel was hanging off one of them. "Go buy some expensive boots" says he, like we can fucking afford them. Yeah, I know, I'm the only woman on the planet who needs a gun put to her head to make her shell out for expensive footware. Fortunately for Fratboy he has a gun now, hence I have new boots now too. Except if you're gonna spend money on boots they'd better be NiceBoots™ and those are never flat and comfortable and now I look fabulous but my feet hurt and I've been fighting with myself all damned day about why men don't have to totter around on stupid stilts (which are actually maybe 2 inches high but whatever, that's SO NOT THE POINT HERE) and who got it in their fool head that women should and do we really like them and think they look good or have we just been brainwashed and blah blah blah shut the fuck up already brain.
Jeebus.
You'd think I had nothing better to do than sit around and aggravate myself all damned day. Ordinarily you wouldn't be wrong but I'm actually fucking busy right now, okay man? I ain't got time for your blisters and bullshit.
And Poland has me fucking addicted to Nesquick again. The only thing better than a giant bowl of Nesquick is a giant bowl of Nesquick with a giant bag of Whopper eggs as a chaser. I'm surprised my teeth haven't just jumped clean out of my head in suicidal angst. Cuz if you're going to be staggering around in new stilts there's nothing more sexy than doing it toothless.
And I'm on book 3 of the Twilight series and I'm kind of over it already. It was all swoony and fun for a while there but then it got all too virginal and epically clear what the difference between me and teenagers is...
Incidentally it is more challenging to create stick figure sex than I would have guessed.
And so I gots nothing, mang. Fitzy's birthday is in a week and a half and I still have no clue what we're getting him. I have a bajillion things to do and YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!
I'll probably beat someone up at the gym tonight.
Again.
Stop looking at me like that!!
YOU WANNA GO??!