No more Twinkies if those striking Hostess motherfuckers don’t go back to work. I’m making a Ding Dong Run on the store tomorrow. Anyone else in?
I saw an article entitled “The 6 Most Bizarre Freakouts Over Obama’s Re-Election.” The note at the end of the article? “Ed. note: TPM decided not to include incidents where mental illness may have been a factor.“ I want to know what their definition of “mental illness” consists of.
Things I Heard During Happy Hour:
- “Youth – it just gets better with age.” Tell that to my freakin’ wrinkles, bitch.
- “If I work on him while he is drunk, maybe I’ll get what I want.” (Me, working on the non-BF to get lipo for Christmas)
- “I’m not into ‘experimental Ding Dongs’.” This really sounds worse than it is. We are talking about the soon to be non-existent Hostess foodstuff issue. I’m renting space in several deep freezes to keep a supply of Twinkies on hand.
- “If I owned everything I stuck my tongue into, I’d own a lot of stuff.” “Yeah, but would you want it all?” I have no explanation for this, except that it involved someone sticking their tongue into a small dish of salsa.
- “You said you were looking for a cut? I thought you said ‘I’m looking for a red-headed slut.’” I have no idea what the hell this was all about.
- “The waitresses – the only body fat they have is in their boobs and their lips.” That would be me, again bargaining for liposuction. I should create a PayPal account to pay for this shit.
Thank you for all of your helpful hints about my insomnia and my stupid fucking iPhone 5.
- I’ve tried melatonin. Didn’t work for me (but then again, painkillers make me hyper, so there you go). I’m sticking with gin.
- I’m making a trek to an Apple store to get a new phone because I’m tired of yelling into mine and putting it on speaker when I really need to be clear. By the way, all those “stupid Maps” people have the 4S.
Had a long chat (actually two long chats and one short one) with my dear, sweet friend Cherry tonight. She just now texted me a photo from about 12 years ago when I decided I’d be an auburn-haired bitch for about a year (thank God I got over that shit!). We laughed about our Crazy Days (I cannot believe she remembered some of that nonsense, totally forgot about it myself), decided we’d stop being so hard on ourselves (well, at least for today), and I remembered what it is that I truly, dearly LOVE about sisterhood: that complete and total support. The few really good female friends I have, I trust with my life. P.S. Even if I DO look like shit, they will always find a way to get me to see myself in a different light.
I don’t see why people seem to see themselves in a negative light. There is SO much more about us that is good. Why stare at the bad parts? The good parts are SO much better.