pretty sure i alerted the danger sense in the derp dogs when i screamed at the cat to kindly “fucking stop” early this morning before the sun was even awake. really, i do feel bad for the little kitty man, but just because you now have one eye and a cone on to keep you from scratching the zombie eye doesn’t mean you get to be an asshole. and the other cat in the house, who is morbidly obese, tries to attack him ( i have not seen any evidence to support this) so i have to keep them separated. also, the other dog, being of small brain and gargantuan body, will not leave me alone. he’s too fucking big.
right then. i have many pizza rolls and cheesy popcorn to stave off my impending mental breakdown, there’s wine too. and soon to be the best fucking eggflower soup on this earth with jasmine tea. sounds like a winning mix for my already torched stomach lining. must stop drinking. but when someone buys you a bottle of wine called “cookies and cream,” you’re not sober until it’s finished.
guys, there’s a wine called fancy pants too. the cuter the name, the more of it i tend to drink. this marketing campaign is going to give me cirrhosis.
here’s the part where my real followers come in. i’m not up for making another suck list yet, since it would mostly consist of all the shitty grown up things in my life right now. it just wouldn’t be funny. SO: ask me anything and i will answer it. there is no personal boundary that you could cross with me, i dare you to try. you can ask as many questions as you want. but don’t ask me stupid things like: who was your first love (it was probably a cat, most likely my pitbull cause that shit’s never going sour), what inspires you to write this blog (please. spare me), what’s your favourite soap so i can buy it and reek of your grace (please don’t find my ip address), and so on.