Making bad decisions so you don't have to, then blogging about it like blogging's still cool.
Corrupting the interweb since 2005.
Friday, March 30, 2012
This Is What Madness Looks Like
I try to turn up the creepy when dealing with my dog sometimes, just for fun. I'll let her inside and say "Why hello Clarice" and she just runs past me like it's nothing. This does not bode well for my future human interactions.
Actually nothing I do seems to phase her. So I can conclude that 3 years of constantly being fucked with is how long it takes for one to become completely immune to me and my ridiculousness. 3 years and Stolkholm Syndrome has a firm grip on the soul. That's love. So now I just need a creepy basement, some handcuffs and a 3 year supply of ramen and Febreeze.
You have no idea, nor can I properly explain, just how much things turn around when it finally stops raining. The sun has peeked out after 2 hellish weeks of rain clouds and I feel like the fog is clearing. I can crawl out of the hibernation cave. I can burn the sweatpants. I'm not destined to be a complete mental case until I contract some horribly rare disease and die. (Children will be the bringer of that disease, mark my words. Little walking germ-factories...)
The stat counter machines tell me I'm only #10 in my hatred of Facebook. This is sad, I really thought I had more contempt for that site and its users. But really, they're just poor, misguided fools who don't know the value of keeping their collective mouths shut. ("Hello, pot? This is the kettle. ...Yes, yes, in the kitchen. ...No, I don't know how I'm calling you either. But the point of this call is, you're black. ...Yes, I'm sure it's a shock, Dear, but we were all thinking it. I thought it time you knew.")
The stat counter machine also tells me that the Brits have quite a thing for Fight Club. I knew I liked you people. If you're looking for somewhere to crash this summer as you flee the Olympic Mania I'm sure is coming, my couch is free. You can even watch Reality TV if you'd like, I won't judge. Not out loud.
I wish you coffee stains and sunshine, dog breath and wagging tails and big brown eyes that are completely irresistible. And perhaps someone to trick into loving you forever, if that's your thing.
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2 comments:
She looks like she's plotting!
-Alice
She is always plotting. Always.
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