Lambchop couldn’t find her phone, but I, I have bigger crappy problems. Don’t worry, we always strive to lovingly one-up each other, once running for president of Vomitola only to have no one vote. But that’s how it goes: who can apply more makeup at one time? Who is first mistaken for a whore when we set foot upon the curb? Who gets to kick the chair out from under that guy this time?
Anyway, what was this about? MY problems. I am chilly! I am being trifled with! I lost my gum and then I found it, but I wish I had bought another flavor instead! There was a little too much sea weed in my soup. Someone needs to file these papers that litter my desk and answer all these emails.
In conclusion, fuck that guy. No, really, fuck THAT guy. And fuck you! It’s Friday!
Fuck you? Fuck me!
WHAT ARE THAT, â€žBLOGâ€œ WHAT YOU WRIET. I HEAR IS THAT BIG NEW THING.