Thursday, January 3, 2008
Breathe through your mouth kids, just breathe through your mouth...
Have you ever had one of those moments where you realize you stink like onion-swabbed grizzly bear and instead of immediately jumping into the shower with some comet cleanser, you sit and try and figure out why you stink? Like, "Hmm, when was my last shower? Or, "hey, I'm not normally a stinky girl, there surely must be some underlying medical issue causing a garlicky-sour-musty odor to emanate from my armpit region. I most certainly have defective sweat glands. I shall call the doctor this very minute."
La-de-da, maybe after I make some tea or smell my armpits again...
Like, now it's Wednesday (this happened yesterday, folks) and you're placing bets on...
Oh, I don't know- Sunday?
This is what happens when I have unlimited free time, folks. I wallow in my own fetid sloth. I can't be bothered to put on pants that don't have a drawstring waist. I use my shirt as an all-day napkin.
If I win the lottery I will be referred to as "The world's richest lady-hobo" (lobo?), as the piles of cash and not having to work will distract me from little annoyances like personal hygiene. I will forever be photographed with crusty junk in my teeth and grease stains on my tattered sweatpants.
Like a delicate little flower, I am.
File under: Shit I really should just keep to myself.