good news, when the older than dust dude next door isn’t screaming at his fossil of a wife, he’s talking as loud as i talk when i’m out on the town hittin’ the sauce. i’m about to make a little dance video of myself and blast the f out of some jams to drown him out, once i check what oprah is about today.
ungh david cassidy is a guest BUT all the cosby kids will be on for the next segment, dance video will have to wait.
RIP fil’s underwears that give you the opposite of clit boners.
last nite he FINALLY gave in and performed a little underwear destruction ritual for me, i have been threatening to post a picture of them intact on my blog for ages now. please feel sorry for me and let the underwear digs begin, thank you. he used these guys once to wipe something down hence the bleach stains and everyone knows once you use an article of some sort to clean something WITH BLEACH you are entering a contract with yourself of getting rid of said item forever, or graduating it to rag status.
not fil though, ungh.
also there were tons of holes and rips in them (he still has some other pairs as sexy as these in his rotation cycle).
i am such a victim.
woah they redid oprah’s stage to look like the cosby’s house/set!
i caved and bought the bat for lashes cd even though i am one million per cent jealous of the singer. sigh. like, is it too much to ask to just look like an imp, really, is it?
goos news, the jeans that took me an hour to select yesterday I HATE DEM! and i took off all the tags and everything swto;gshrdg[o0erhg0[‘hbn[!
here is my crappy unicorn i don’t think i can fix it without completely painting over it sigh!!!!
i also don’t think fil will be as excited for my new decorating scheme as i am. that sign is vintage, from the 70s, i just opened ‘em up today.
greasy bangs new glasses, pretend prescription bifocals for pretend reading i guess?
new! cheap! yay!
yes yes you get the idea.
so i went to old navy and i asked where all the ethnic shirts were and they thought i was a big racist. kidding i didn’t ask. i did try on 40 pairs of jeans though and wanted to commit suicide in the change room. old navy sizes their jeans even-numbered, which in hindsight really isn’t a difference it’s just a mind fuck really. basically my thighs are really skinny but i have love handles so im fucked no matter what. i bought a pair and im hoping that they will magically shrink around my thigh crotch area somehow over time and give a little more on the waist. i have 90 days to make up my mind over them too. that’s pretty funny i think.
the pair i got look exactly like the jeans i bought a year ago from winners when everyone was like wow you have lost a lot of weight and i’m like no i haven’t you suckers it’s the jeans i swear, so just like those ones except a size smaller.
i hate malls i hate people and i hate people in malls. ok i don’t hate malls i just hate the eaton centre after school time everyone scares me!
bath time!
ps. why do so many people from new zealand work at old navy? i encountered three different girls, what the hell?
one more thing, they (old navy employees) walk around with huge shopping sacks and they offer you one to shove all your finds in and they jump on you like vultures asking if you need help it was kinda desperate, anyway, the first one to approach me was some 40 year oldish totally lobotomy-seeming guy with these bags over his shoulder and i thought he was just some crazy person talking to me while i am in the middle of a what size am i jeans crisis like seriously you are scaring me buddy, then i realised ok yeah he works here, but it still felt weird like male kindergarden teacher weird, ungh, anyway, make it obvious to old navy newcomers or once every three year old navy shoppers that your thing is carrying around massive empty sacks, make a big picture display sign or something slam me in the face when i enter the store so i get it instead of getting creeped out instead.
and yes sheena if i keep the pants i will for sure cut out that big brother tag.
i put myself on a strict no carb diet cos i have an audition tomorrow i’ve been trying not to obsess about, and then i ate a chocolate bar, and helped fil drink two bottles of wine yesterday. buh! and i just fucked up a unicorn painting and now i am going to get a new pair of jeans and i am not going to derail that by buying a new shirt or something stupid that is final. fil did not feel my salmon concoction and it hurt my feelings, even though he is the one who picked out this super duper big package of salmon, he says it is too chewy which of course makes me not want to eat it either even though i was fully feelin’ it and now there are all these leftovers in the fridge.
+++
now lets play: IS THIS RACIST?
“go graphic in ethnic-flavoured mixed prints”
brought to you by old navy. go listen, hit WOMEN’S.
so if you ever were wondering what you could do to have a mini i am ugly crisis on a saturday afternoon, go to a party the nite before with a load of chicks at it then add the majority of them to your facebook and go through all of their artistic pretty photos, i guarantee you that by the end of all that you will feel like a total troll. my clothes are all over the bed, i don’t like any of them, i cut my bangs shorter and i put on knee socks and then felt a little better and some dark red lipstick that i couldn’t pull off before without bangs.
before i snipped off some more bangs, i did it twice yesterday actually, the second and final time being when i was cooking bok choy (did you know there are two kinds of bok choy?) and could not see a thing by the end of next week i will look like loyd christmas if you’re lucky.
if you want to get some wicked cut-eye from older chicks just wear a trench coat and knee socks to loblaws.
we saw mgmt last nite they were kinda crap but their party songs are rad we think they are too high off their initial success so they tried to be all arty weird and it did not translate after the room cleared out two (mgmt) dudes were kinda quietly jamming and no one was even watching so i tell fil ok go now take some pics and he does and i do too and dryly say hey is that the encore? and the one guy busted up laughing so hard they were just barely even jamming just some keys and a bit of drums very dainty like so if it was an encore (wasnt) you would have been so underwhelmed you might shit your pants just to make it better.
i bought fil a t-shirt cos i am coasting off my new bangs high and i feel like a nicer person, for right now at least.
