brad was in great form as per uje, i asked him where he got his jacket (a hooded leather jacket!) he goes uhm ah you know, LM, L&M, you know? no brad, i DON’T know.
i got red wine on my dress, not my fault! i took a sip of someone’s water bottle that had dribbled red wine all over it, then i dumped salt and soda water on the stain and sat in my stupid wet dress for the rest of the nite. the salt did nothing, just one of erin’s moves to sabotage me.
hahaha
TWO orders of nachos AND a pizza that’s how top form brad was, fuck. yet another one of erin’s sabotage moves.
i’m in brad’s office at gibson right now hangin’ with a bud drinkin’ white vino and she is FULLY BLOWING MY MIND TELLING ME ABOUT DERMOID CYCTS HAVE YOU HEARD ABOUT THESE THINGS!!!? now i’m pretty sure i have one too great! she basically has a golfball sized hair eyeball and TEETH lump inside her goddamn it’s the the movie the fucking gate! hang on i need another swig after that. so she was experiencing pain right where i was experiencing it for the longest time CAN YOU SAY ULTRASOUND FINALLY!
dudes, if you know what’s good for you do NOT google image search ‘dermoid cyst’ alright i’m fully going to barf later. oh and if you have one and were wanting to keep it, you’re not allowed so now we are talking about women who eat their placentas oh god you’re welcome!
the reason i’m in here is cos i’m hiding from the surprise babyshower out there and someone was cunty to me, i tried twice to insert myself in a convo then peaced out.
i’m wearing my yellow supermarket dress cos earlier today i had a power deuce and it skinny’d me right up guys! awesome!
dudes i’m booooooooooooooored talk to me in comments, ask me questions, brush my hair!
oh great and now i have cramps.
i just remembered i brought grey goose ORANGE FLAVOURED vodka it’s in my flask.
i’m going to entertain myself with old pics now
havin’ a rest waiting for fucking axl to show up the diva.
this picture makes everyone sad, the two on each end are no longer with us sigh. 2006 xmas.
so we went to the jay’s game two nites ago, we were winning the whole time ’til we left and by the time we got to the bar it was 6-3, shit.
oh well at least we sat in seats that weren’t ours.
oh and i got blogspotted too by beth, hi beth! we were sitting in the same row, when pitt and fil went to the bathroom at the same time i got to pretend like i wasn’t a totally awkward loner and made facial expressions like i was really into the game, i think she bought it.
it would have been appreciated to have a head’s up that the serving of alcohol was going to be shut down oh around the 7th inning? upon learning that it was all dried up the thirst went through us something crazy, we chewed up every single piece of gum in my purse, including the free nicorette samples.
then we went to the loose moose because that’s a gravitational pull pitt never fights, after one i said fuck this lets go to casey’s whereupon we discovered we are treated with more respect AND it’s happy hour 8-til close, monday to thursday. solid.
so i’ma hate on coach purses right now, three years ago you could easily substitute coach for louis vuitton, what’s next? you guys are fucking sheep. yesterday at the jays game in the john i saw a little girl stressing the FUCK OUT by the hand dryer over her mom’s bowling bag sized coach purse, something had spilled in it, the mother was by the sink standing guard over the contents of the purse wringing her wrists while her 7 year old daughter held up the inner lining to the dryer saying it’s finished and the mother looking over saying NO it isn’t. terrible. way to bestow your shitty priorities onto your daughter, owning “luxury” goods, coveting them, spilling juice all over the inside of them at a baseball game, demeaning yourself in the toilet and ruining your daughter’s good time because this stupid bag is the centre of your status symbol desperation universe. do you guys realize how stupid you look clutching these things and like you don’t have a handful of two season ago LVs in your closet you can’t use anymore cos that tacky pink is SO OVER, what a disgusting waste of money and for what? all you did was prove how much of a spineless fad following dickhead you can be. you sit around pining over a fucking purse for clowns! and you broke the bank too! and when you go out on the town you have to hold that baby so tight under your arm you get pit stains all over it, it’s on your mind the whole nite out, on everyone’s mind, cos your stress spreads. i don’t know what’s worse, the lot of you who put all focus into that stupid bag, or the ones who pose as if it isn’t your reason for existing you act all blase about it like oh yeah martin can you paw-ss me muh coooch purrrrrse.
so people are supposed to be envious of your 400 dollar purse because you made the moronic move in obtaining one? you know what else costs 400 dollars? A WASHING MACHINE! A WEEKEND GET AWAY! ENOUGH FOOD TO FEED A STARVING FAMILY FOR THREE MONTHS YOU STUPID SELFISH WASTE OF SPACE!
so thank you for inciting nothing but pure embarrassment on your behalf within me, that’s it, cos i know what you’re doing, i know all the careful deliberate thoughts and intentions of possessing one of those things, you pathetic poseur.
when you buy into frivolity you think you look like this:
what does “don’t know how to kiss” mean, do you not have eyes and lips, depth perception? is your husband a total asshole or what? go kiss someone before i kill myself over how depressing your postcard is!
well clearly you do care MUCH about it as you took the time to make this postcard in lieu of LEARNING HOW TO MAKE YOUR PARTNER CLIMAX! like way to go you secretly burned someone on the internet who is generously letting you bone them despite you being a sexual retard instead of saying hey so tell me what i’m doing wrong and ps. it’s THEN not THAN!
which would make YOU even dumber for marrying him.
i mean really, you had to share this one?
actually not really, these are pretty rad, you’re the loser idiot who pieced them together and MAILED THEM, i smell j.e.a.l.o.u.s.y. next time be less of a turd and perhaps you’ll get invited to the cottage.
why? why do you enjoy that? how is that something to “enjoy” and how garbage is your social life? if i bought a book and the last page was torn out i don’t even know where to begin explaining how much of a violent rage would ensue KHVGLAUFLCVlvbxvi dfg;9p;orh dsfobhfd;iubV!
that is NOT a good thing, why do you stay? i suggest one-upping him next time by hiding your own shit and don’t go back, fuck all of them, they don’t deserve you, know your worth.
judging by your penmanship you are wicked young so i’ll hold back some, to be frank, no, that is NOT what normal girls do. girls with hot bods who dog themselves are NOT normal, those (you) girls are despised by the ones with the NOT hot bods for doing that. you do not have to fit in with the chicks who hate on themselves constantly, in fact you should avoid them, that negativity will bring you down and eventually you WILL become body dysmorphic like them and for the rest of your life it will plague you so run the fuck away from those girls. do not look for imperfections where there are none cos you will make yourself crazy and your mind will invent them for you, this happened to me when i was 12 and started reading fashion magazines and came across a body image quiz and i didn’t understand why the questions were all negative, i thought my body was fine up ’til then and figured oh i guess part of getting older is thinking your body isn’t good enough and then one day i overheard one of my peers in dance class complaining about her thighs, ever since i have had body issues.
that “fun yellow slide” will not even have the chance to inflate because everyone in that plane will immediately die upon impact you lunatic and if you were sitting beside me and said this during a flight i would strangle you.
wow your life is so ordinary you have to resort to sending postcards about this? do you sit in the loser section in church too?
oh please not you again, just shut up, seriously shut up cos no one cares for your pity party, wah wah wah i did the “right thing” sob!
omg finally something i care about!
what?
oh dude you shoulda got that fart postcard tattooed instead.
i forget why i saved this one to rip on, thoughts anyone?
yay a for real smart person for once!
aw i’m sorry if i saw someone writing that i’d scream them into the shell of a person they likely are right now, i’ll be your friend.
oh god look it’s someone kooky my fucking favourite! i know where you should go next, a deserted island.
??????? well this wasn’t a waste of my brain power (SARCASM!) try again. F.
um spying? isn’t it fully in your power to have all access to every single note that is written and is it not also your job to PEN THESE CARDS YOUR FUCKING SELF? you must have super human dissociative abilities if you’re able to write something down w/o retaining any of it whatsofuckingever.
wow that’s so deep i don’t even get it. i forgive you too, tractors and field!
first of all, what’s the fandom, and if this is true, wouldn’t you have access to more than the creepiest picture of justin timberlake that i have ever seen and yeah thanks for singlehandedly destroying my wee crush on him now once and for all.
well you must certainly be at the bottom of the totempole in your household or pecking order whatever metaphor you want. puking will not get you more friends, it will however give you chipmunk cheeks (which will make you feel more fat) and a lifetime of bitter self-hatred. have fun!
call him up and go on a date or at least say sorry. we had this french teacher named monsieur dunn in elementary school and some kids made up a song about him it went like this OLE! OLE! (olay olay), MONSIEUR DUNN’S GAY! (to the tune of feelin’ hot hot hot) there was a dance that went along with it too. dude totally wasn’t gay but he had acne scars and picked his nose in front of us and played oh canada in french with his acoustic guitar really cheesy-like. poor sod. i’m trying really hard not to laugh right now. monsieur dunn i’m sorry everyone was a dick to you! there is also a street in toronto called dunn street and a variety store you can see from the gardiner expressway called dunn’s milk and my brother and i would snicker every time we passed it driving into the city as kids. kids are huge assholes, one good reason i am pro-abortion rights.
i feel brain damaged right now i’ve been working on this post for so long, i essentially feel like how you must feel ALL THE TIME.
i bet your tits aren’t even that nice looking you selfish snit.
regardless of that it doesn’t mean they aren’t psychotically disturbed! killing a family pet is like drowning a baby. jesus i can’t even think about this anymore cos i could write an essay about it, i’ll just let it be known that if i ever EVER saw anyone harm an animal, i would go to jail because they would be dead or seriously injured, fil and i would be wrestling each other over who could destroy this person first, yeah he’s taller but i’m way more agile so i could get out of his hold and sprint like crazy. the rage that erupts within me when i think about this is the same rage i feel over thinking about the time my ex bf back handed me in the face, so look out.
thanks for ruining the way i have always viewed men as the emotionally devoid robots they are, you prick. no seriously this makes me sad, i bet whatever problem between you two would have been patched easily if you just gave’r over the phone, i mean it, if a dude cries anywhere near me i turn into niagara falls and can’t blow him fast enough. feeling the need to further propagate the myth that men don’t cry is the same bullshit with women and body image and not ever being good enough, life is shit.
that’s what happens when you sign up for that culty bullshit.
went for a walk to indigo after a dinner of canned lobster bisque (no more of that stuff for these guys) and spinach salad. we also made the lcbo with two minutes to spare and i watched a lush promptly not get served cos he couldn’t figure out how to answer the cashier repeatedly (tricksing him!) asking if he was keeping warm cos it was hot out. it made me sad.
we bought two books collectively, well i gave fil the 6 bones left on my gift card to put toward a book i wanted what was pretty steep, the brief wondrous life of oscar wao i picked it up and was deciphering how pretentiously hip it was going to be and an employee came at me out of nowhere and said really loud that it had won the pulitzer the day before and everyone looked up from their books at me and i had to run away with it because who puts down a book that wins a pulitzer in front of strangers who totally don’t even give a fuck, god what a complete neurotic fool i am. i churtled out some words like yeah and i heard some things about it being good (lie), i only saw a picture of it on a blog so that equals “good things i have heard about it” – moral of the story DON’T TALK TO ME STRANGERS YOU FREAK ME OUT! (unless you read my blog and we are at a bar and you have a present for me)
bought the new cat power with my gift card.
finished playing cooking mama, a work of love it was and believe it or not, a totally decent arm work out.
then near bedtime took a million pictures of myself while fil completed the last recipe.
i should have left my angelina painting outside brangelina’s house.
this shirt used to be a dress, the dumpiest dress in the world.
i’ve had this since i was a toddler, my aunt made it.
i totally had to take a pee while taking these, your guys’s entertainment is more important, i commit.
yes i went there.
oh and then my camera dropped to the floor and i had a mini freak-out.
elated it still works.
then i took some nudies i was thatdrunk elated.
ok bye for now, the next post you will totally LOVE.