After a long ass two weeks, I am in shock over the weekend. What should I do with myself? Making human contact is out of the question. I'd really like to be outdoors, but it's roughly 100 million degrees centigrade outside. And I really should get some work on my house done. But for now, I'll veg and re watch Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog yet again.
Whomever invented that Axe shit should be shot. And men who wear that Axe shit should be shot. And by men, I mean 13 year olds and men who think they're 13. Listen, boyos, the goal is to attract a female (or a male, whatever your thing is), not stun them into submission. Your goal is to get a reaction, but if that reaction is nausea or vomiting, you fail. If she passes out, she didn't swoon over your manly nature; no, she passed out because your hideous odor assaulted her senses and she'd rather be unconscious on the pavement than smell you for one more second.
I would like to marry this pint of Half Baked and have beautiful, chocolatey children. It would disturbing and wrong on oh so many levels, but I don't give a flying fuck. It's delicious. And always gives me what I want. And never tells me it doesn't love me. Until I reach the bottom of the pint. Which then sucks.
What is a flying fuck anyway? Is that like the mile high club? Or is it like how birds have sex mid-flight? Can Superman do it?
Have I mentioned how hot it is here? It's HOT! Unbearably hot. Hideously hot. I. Am. Melting. Yes, I am a witch. You're just figuring this out?
I have been shamelessly hit on several times in the last 2 weeks. Maybe men can smell my vulnerability. Like I'm their prey. But I am here to tell you this: I am not interested and I will get violent if necessary. Not only I am I nursing a bruised heart, I have never and will never like being "hit on." Have some respect for me and realize that I am not going to jump in the sack with a total stranger, whether in person and even and especially if I am meeting you on the Internets. Back the eff off. Or I will hurt you. And you won't like it.
However, I am always taking applications for new friends. Well-written and grammatically correct applications will be considered, but not all will be accepted. Humor is encouraged. Assholes need not apply.
This past week, I had the awesome opportunity to participate in Lizzy Danger's Poetry Project. She gave me a line and I wrote a poem inspired by it. My line was: "look to the clouds for inspiration." It was a really fun experience and you can read my poem here. You should check out Lizzy as well. She's a really talented poet. I may even write another one.
If you haven't checked out my Facecrack page yet, you totes should yo.
Also, I in no way endorse that "yes on 16" ad that keeps running on my page. Californians, do your own research and vote. That ad has nothing to do with my opinions or political leanings. That is all.
- Chicks who do it for me
- Lose Weight Fast with the Heartbreak Diet!
- Margaritas, Weed, and Slut Signals
- epic existential post just in time for that arbitrary changing of the calendar which I so love
- Public Service Announcement
- Horrifying Shit on Pinterest: Slut Shaming E-Cards
- Animal Monster Bird Squawk Dinosaur Creature
- My Doctors Always Suck, otherwise entitled Why I Hate Kaiser
- Sexy Saturdays: Slutty Saturday
- fishcunts and cum dumpsters