DATE: 07/22/2006 22:02:54 / MOOD: happy
Fuck you, cleaning the fridge. How the hell do you get so dirty? I don't eat in there, I simply store food. What the fuck is that stain on the bottom shelf? Do gnomes have parties in here when I'm at work or something? Nasty little gnomes. And, for some reason, I feel really, really vulnerable when I'm bent over, scrubbing your gross shelves. Don't know why.
Fuck you, paying bills. Every goddamned month? Are you kidding me? I barely even watched TV this month, I still gotta shell out all that cash? And, while I'm at it, fuck your pathetic little late fees. They're small enough for me to easily ignore them but they add up over time. So thank you for the electricity, water and internet, but fuck you for your constant demands.
Fuck you, washing dishes. Yes, I know, you smell funny, and I know the longer I wait, the more weird slime stuff is just gonna accumulate on you. That's why I've pretty much switched to just using paper plates (fuck you, environment) and eating with my hands. I'm a cavewoman in my home.
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DATE: 07/22/2006 21:58:28 / MOOD: full of life
don't give me that sneer of self righteous disgust. you know exactly what i'm talking about and if you don't, it's because your sweating habits even more repulsive regions, like your ass crack. don't lie, asshole. we know about your swamp ass.
i woke this morning, verified the forecast on my weatherbug and cast an elated grin at the blue sky as i raised my blinds. i skipped to the closet, threw back the doors and gazed adoringly at my favorite part of the day, a bright turquoise tube top-yep, there I said it, I am a 36DD and wear tube tops WOOT!
but just as i reached for the hanger, i felt it. wetness. in horror, i looked down to see the steaming beads of sweat plotting silently beneath my breasts. yes, they were scheming to unite and form a pool of such unpleasantry that it manages to somehow render unsexy one of the most feminine and attractive areas of my body.
fuck you, boob sweat.
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