My mom just sent me a text message. Yay, Mom.
I just typed in a captcha that I am 100% certain I have typed before. Why do I remember that?
Foot-long veggie subs are way longer than my foot.
Guess which blogger said this to me? :
“My God, you are a stunning vision of beauty! Do you do any modeling? You really should. I’m serious! Gazing upon your shining countenance is a balm for my soul!”
Now, guess why.
Oh, okay, fine, I’ll just tell you. Mr. Fabulous ASKED ME to co-host his show and then GAVE MY TIME SLOT AWAY TO BRITT. Such a fucking slap in the face because you know all of the internet likes her better and I’m just second best. Well, THANKS FOR RUBBING IT IN, FAB.
And now he’s attempting to make up for it. HA.
In the words of Padma Lakshmi: Eat me, and my deep fried pinkie toe!!!!
(Show’s still on for December 2.
No SGP today. Cleaning out my house before the ginormous dumpster is stolen away by the deft man with the big truck. Bye!
It annoys me that I cannot do private posts on my blog.
It annoys me greatly.
I pushed that boulder all the way up that fucking hill and it just rolled all the way back to the bottom. I’m curling up into a little ball and turning off my brain until next year.
Just today alone I have invited myself over to … five? … bloggers’ homes or travel locations. Apparently I won’t be satisfied until I actually MEET A BLOGGER.
Could someone please hurry up and meet me? Please?
I was about to go grab some food from the vending machine because I’m too lazy to walk outside and up or down the hill for food, but I heard the voice of a man I do not intentionally encounter. He gives me the “I am an equal opportunity molester” vibe.
I’m hungry, but not that hungry.
I just remembered I have a Starbucks frappuccino drink in the fridge at work!
Is this day over yet? I wanna go home and goof off.