It's almost 4. I bought sour patch kids from Rite-Aid. They continue with their never ending streak of causing me great happiness and pain when I eat them. Same with tooth whitening. No wait never mind that's just painful.
I am glad it's Thursday friend. I've got plans tonight. And by plans I mean I'll be home alone, probably drinking wine (it's the only thing I can drink alone and still feel classy while doing so), watching my shows on the tellie, and eating chicken nuggets. It's every six-year-old alcoholic's dream.
Don't feel sorry for me yet. I will probably be cleaning beforehand.
Aaaaaand now you can feel sorry for me.
But it's cool. I'm ok with it. It's just preparing me for life when I become a crazy cat lady who yells at the neighborhood kids. Why do I yell at them? Well, my family has a history of getting crotchity as they age plus those damn kids were probably messing with my flower beds.
In other news, I feel that I need a nemesis. I don't know why that has suddenly popped into my head. it might be because I've been watching a lot more of "Be Good Johnny Weir" and his constant mention of how much he hates Evan Lysachek. I used to have one when my older sister was dating a guy who wanted to change his last name to Wolf because he loved the animal so much, but he wasn't worthy of my ire. He also couldn't handle himself in a battle of the bits, and I'm saying that in the kindest way possible.
But now he's gone, and I have no one. Any takers?
Ok, the sugar might have definitely been responsible for this crazy ass post. Yeah, I'm putting full blame on the Sour Patch Kids. There is not one drop of sweetness in their boneless bodies.
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