Someone should become a serial rapist, and their criminal name should be Con Edison.
Why do these bastards fuck me directly up the ass every 30 days?
I seriously might have to start lighting my home with only the dollar store Jesus candles.
And I'll produce heat by devising some kind of cat powered machine. They will run on a little wheel all day long and it will set off sparks on some sort of generator.
I don't have it all sorted out, but it all starts with the idea, you know.
Thats how I feel today basically.
Full of great ideas provoked by exasperation.
I have an unexpected day off and I've spent it watching documentaries online, cleaning up, and food shopping.
I found myself walking around Pathmark fake smiling and gritting my teeth because it was one of the worst experiences I've had in weeks.
I swear to god, there were at least 6 or 7 of these common folk:
I understand that we all have bad days.
I understand that some mornings, we open our eyes, roll over, and just SIGH.
Like ok. I dunno if I wanna get up and out.
I don't think I can handle an hour in the supermarket uuuup and dooooown everyyyyyy aisle.
It will be torture!
Well guess what?
Thats called being human.
Laziness is best combated by FORCING yourself up and out and seizing the day. Grab yer food stamps and hit the pavement sister!
If you have to SCOOT your way to the frozen food section to stock up on Banquet microwave tv dinners on sale for $1.29, you might just want to give in commit suicide right now.
Because despite how cruel it sounds, I have always been a strong believer in Darwinism.
There is a reason why sharks have pointy teeth and giraffes have long necks and ants can carry like 10 times their body weight.
BECAUSE THERE IS NO WAY TO SURVIVE OTHERWISE.
Humans being able to motor themselves from their bed to their over processed non-nutrient having saturated fat food sources... one day its just going to have to stop.
Or else I might have an aneurysm solely prompted by frustration.
You should be in a motorized scooter indoors under the following circumstances:
1. you are handicapped. Nuff said.
2. You can't use your legs for some sort of medical reason/recent surgery/exploding kneecaps/whatever the fuck
3. you have some sort of nervous system or musculature issue aka Lou Gherigs? Something like that.
4. You're super old. What qualifies as super old? 95. Thats old. 63? Not old pal. Not old.
5. You are playing some kind of joke for a hidden camera show.
If I see you stand up out of your Rascal to reach for the 2 liter America's Choice grape soda, you can walk. So walk.
Also, you're totally in the way of those of us who have places to be.
I just wanna go home and wash some dishes and dance with myself in my living room on my day off.
I think in order to make myself happy, and to uplift my readers who have now maybe had their day ruined with my negativity...
I would like to propose that a spring celebration be planned in my home within the coming month.
Stephanie my dear Stephanie will have returned from Italia.
Olivia my dear Olivia will be back from LA.
Jeylan will be back from stupid Texas.
Brooklyn girls my dear Brooklyn girls, I never get to see them any more for some horrible reason...
I would like to bless my revamped domicile with cakes and drinking and girls and boys and hopefully some lip glossy kisses.
My planning begins now I think.
Any and all proposals and schemes related to this feista are welcome.
PS I can't wait to wear shorts.
Please when you read that, say it like this, sort of fast and hysterical:
"I caaaynt wait ta wear sharts!!"
Then wiggle your steepled fingers.