lucky bamboo

Sheldon Cooper is def my favourite character on television. He is annoyingly intelligent and everything that we hate in a nerd. But he truly absolutely fabulous. I have piddled in my pantaloons watching Big Bang Theory and if the show is ever cancelled, I will be devastated.

I gave into to purchasing a coffee from Timmie Poo's today. I am going to let you guess whether or not I read "PLAY AGAIN".

So instead of studying for a final exam that is going to be occuring in t-6 days, I have spent my evening folding laundry and watching my other fav show "criminal minds". Procrastanation at its finest. I am a hopeless student. The future I see in the crystal ball has me showcasing my incredible dances moves for cash money flow to local tourists in city park opposed to being a world class nurse. Perhaps then I will gain the tan that I have always dreamed of.

Goodnight world and sweet nightmares.

liberation

Survival without a man is what I will be able to accomplish during my existence on this crazy planet. The reason you may ask, is because today I acquired an essential skill that will enable me to depend solely on myself and not rely on some useless meathead. I learnt how to change Latoya's oil. You know like, getting under the car and shit. Thanks to my father's innovative teaching style, I now possess the means to successfully remove grimy oil, replace the oil filter and replenish the 10w-30 supply. So if I end up as a cat fish lady, as least I will be able to drive to the pet store instead of pathetically taking the city bus. Although, I learnt the hard way that when you are doing tasks such as these, do not wear pink polka dot pj bottoms. Oil stains. Awesome. Maybe I shall purchase overalls or something. But fuck, then I would be even more irresistible. Such is life.

So the roll up the rim current status is 0 for 10. I am fucking switching to ice caps full time now. At least then I won't have the chance of being disappointed. This girl in my class wins every single day. Last week she gave me her free donut ticket. Glad my jeans went into the laundry and I didn't check the pockets.

I also walked into the corner of a wooden cabinet today. Wouldn't be so bad, but this is the second time. The bruise was the size of a baseball. No lie. Guess I am laying off the booty shorts for another month. Damn

a night in the life

The life of a barstar is tough. I have come to realise that going out is putting the cosmetic well being of my feet at high risk. It appears that the drunkest girls at the bar are always wearing heels. Stumbling about, displaying no concern for anyone else. While busy t-bombing on their bb's, they are completely and utterly unaware that the spikes of doom attached to their shoes are piercing my innocent little pigglets. It's fucking redic. I can't even count the mornings that I have endured with pain radiating up my legs due to these belligerent bitches. Flats or sneakers are always the way to go when you plan on getting sf'ed.