Hear ye, hear ye! It is decidedly so!
My first book will be titled:
The Great Bed Conspiracy
by Roxanne Harrington
[please credit me accordingly. This stuff is genius.]
So as we've discussed, The Party Girls have been engaging in a fair amount of 6am gym. The first day it was just Lor and I, which resulted in abbreviated gym to accomodate an IHOP trip. IHOP, as we've shown you, is the hub of all creative energy. IHOP *is* the end of the rainbow, folks.
Day two was remarkably harder. Lots of eye rubbing, bed snuggling, and under (morning)breath mumbling. 6am?! Who makes these decisions?
Somewhere in here, the Great Bed Conspiracy was formed.
I wholeheartedly believe that beds were created by the government to make us lazy. THINK ABOUT IT! Back in the olden days, in the days of Jeezy and Alexander Graham Bell (don't give me a fucking history lesson, I know that the timelines are miles apart), they didn't have beds! Noah didn't have a bed - he had an ark to build! Do you think that if Rosa Parks had a bed, she'd be so upset about having to sit in the back of the bus? NO. Look at how productive they were! Alexander Graham Bell didn't have time to lay in a bed...he was busy inventing shit! I bet you Hitler didn't have a bed! No wonder why he was so pissed off - he was probably sleeping on a floor! Even the dude who invented the bed - I'll bet you that was the last noteworthy thing he did! Besides die in BED with a bag of empty Cheetos next ot him and the clicker in his hand...
THE FACT OF THE MATTER IS, blogosphere, that it's just clinically, statistically, and astrologically inappropriate that I should fight to peel myself out of bed to do something as insignificant as the gym. The real culprit here is not my lack of life motivation, but it is the BED for being an instrument of evil. Somewhere, there's a government lair (managed jointly by Tupac and Elvis Presley) where they're holding the formula to yellow mustard, the props used in that supposed *air quotes*MOON LANDING*air quotes* and the blueprints to the bed - among other things. Like Brown Bag's maturity. And the true decision on Phoenix's sexuality. Jury's still out, folks.
BTdubs, it should be noted that Penny got all uppity when I said that Hitler was productive. Penny is of jew-ish descent (meaning that she has Jewish tendancies, but is only sort of Jewish). Jew-ishhhhh. Let it be said that I don't condone anything that douche did, but you can't really argue - he got it done, right? Bump your resume up against Hitler's and I'll tell you who wins, interwebs.
In other news, I've been told that I have two weeks to live.
With the Teets. HA, GOTCHA! Seriously, the month is just about up and as per my final written notice, my employment shall be terminated sometime with the next two weeks. At least, I hope it'll be that soon - I have lots of shit to do once I get fired. I can't let all of my amazing plans fall to the wayside simply because the Teets wants to take their sweet ass time prolonging the inevitable. BASEBALL ASSAULT TOUR! I hope you're ready, Florida...Lor and I are going to make you our bitch.
I'm so checked out of this place. I just want to find another job or get fired. I hate this place. I love the people I work with, but this job makes my soul feel like gak. Anyone remember gak? Gak. That's how I feel about the idea of coming here everyday. You guys don't even get it! I'm the prissiest bitch - makeup, hair, jewelry, etc. I need to look cute 75% of the time. I used to do full on makeup, cute hairstyles, blow dry my hair daily, etc...just to come to work. Right now? Messy bun, not a smidge of makeup, blotchy face, too small sweater and pants with a stain on them. FUCK THIS PLACEEE! I'm ready to go ape shit once I get fired and get my nose pierced and dye my hair some shade or variation of red. And tan and gym and just let my little head pop off.
Lunch break over. SIGH.