I now present: Shit that came out of my brain and found its way into my “writing brainstorming” document on Google Drive that I have suddenly decided to share with you because it’s my fucking blog and I’ll post what I damn well please, bitch!
And here I am, holding myself hostage to the imagined desires of people who barely spare me a second thought.
The words “I love you” kind of lose their meaning when the person saying them is stabbing you repeatedly in the heart.
Bitch! I eat humble pie with a fuckin ladle!
Hugging Osiris, Feline Overlord; it puts hairs on your chest!
Some people run a sword through you and then yell at you for bleeding on the carpet.
I have two speeds, On and Off, and I don’t have control of the switch.
According to a recent poll conducted only among people who said they like me, 100% of respondents said they like me!
How to make ice tea: Boil water, forget water, re-boil water, forget water, re-boil water, make tea, forget tea, find tea next day, nice and cool!
After two nights of barely sleeping, my current level of emotional stability is: Whiny with a chance of mass casualties.
PETA says: “In every package of chicken, there is a little poop.”
I ask: “Do you own a rectum? Yes? Well then there is a little poop in everything you own. On every inch of your home.”
Little known facts: pouring hot water from the kettle onto your hands is painful.
According to a recent survey conducted here in this living room, when asked the question: Do I pronounce *Fouillis de feuilles mouillées qui ouananiche ya mouche la biche* correctly? 100% of responders said: Whut????