I Stepped On A Nail And It Went Through My Flip Flop.

(Is the word “flip flop” supposed to be hyphenated? The English language is annoying.)

This whole week has been like stepping on nails and misspelling words. (Note: I just misspelled the word “misspelling”. Exactly.) It’s been the kind of week filled with sadnosity and the quasi-suicidal-ness that only comes with being over dramatic.

Today for instance, I didn’t realize my pants were inside out until someone at the grocery store asked if I was really a size 7. I wanted to ask why they were reading my pants, but I’m nice so I said yes, and then proceeded to discuss the price of chicken for what felt like an hour.

Then yesterday, I had a “First Blood”-esque fight/manhunt with a spider that might literally have been the size of Sylvester Stallone. I hid in a corner for 30 minutes armed with a fly swatter and piece of cardboard that I made into a shield. Eventually, [my boyfriend] just came over and hit it with his shoe and then asked me to clean up the fort I made out of sheets and boxes because it was blocking his office area.

I reluctantly said yes, but Vietnam changes a man. That spider could have pursued me for weeks.

"Nothing is over! Nothing! You just don't turn it off! It wasn't my war!"
“Nothing is over! Nothing! You just don’t turn it off! It wasn’t my war!”

Then I found out that my ex boyfriend/first love got his girlfriend pregnant and I totally freaked. I realize I have no right to be upset, but we were gonna have a baby too and I lost it. (Pity me and I’ll stab you. Don’t make this blog sad.) Mostly, I’m pissed that everyone I’ve ever loved or been best friends with has replaced me with a fat and less-attractive redhead.

phone 466

Seriously, even my best friend all through middle school and high school dropped me for another redhead who was just a poop version of me.

(I bet Lindsay Lohan deals with this sort of thing all the time.)

So all in all, the nail-in-the-flip-flop-thing wasn’t so bad. Things could always be worse, like being hunted by a large spider or wearing inside-out pants to church.

If You Give Heroin To Your Kitten, You Just Might Be The Worst Person Ever.

(But, ya know… there’s Hitler so… I can’t do that math.)

REGARDLESS, FUCCKKK THAT GUY!! He also dragged it behind his car which makes me sad just thinking about it. (You, however, can read about it here.)

I feel like there's some euphemism with bats and heroin... oh well.
I feel like there’s some euphemism with bats and heroin… oh well.

Anyway, the whole thing got me thinking about why no one has been commenting on my posts and I’m like, “Hey guys, uhmm… what’s the big idea?” Maybe I have to come to your houses and make you eat your keyboards.

But no one wants that. Especially me.

Still, this whole blogging thing is confusing. I spent the entire morning trying to create a mailing list and I couldn’t figure out how to get the goddamn plugin on here. I USED TO LITERALLY WRITE WEB DESIGN SCRIPTS. How the fuck am I unable to figure this WordPress shit out?? I might do this one guy‘s skype-seminar thing. I talked to him and he seems cool.

I also need to post more.


I all honesty, I’ve been either drunk or hungover the past few days and it’s hot as shit here in Pennsylvania (where people do sick shit to cats) and I cannot escape the bees. Or the spiders. Seriously, attempting to just go out on my porch for a cig is like going into that cave from “Harry Potter and the”.. whatever it’s called, where all the giant spiders chill and Ron is like “No way, bro,” but stupid Harry Potter isn’t afraid of anything and makes him go in there? Well I’m Ron Weasley (ginger AND a pussy), and I can’t go outside.

"...spiders? Why couldn't it  be 'follow the butterflies?'"
“…spiders? Why couldn’t it be ‘follow the butterflies?'”

That’s life in PA, though. Truck-sized insects, kittens on heroin, shitty sports teams. This might as well be Florida. (No offense, Florida. It’s not you, it’s me.)

However, if anyone out there knows how to get rid of spiders and wasps (some, by the way, that are giant and purple and LIVE IN THE GROUND), please let me know. I’m very close to burning my house down to stop them, which would be bad considering I’m on the top floor of a duplex with 2 other families… so, ya know… time is of the essence here folks. :)

On the bright side, I’ll never be as bad as the guy who gave heroin to a kitten. Or Hitler.


 

UPDATE: Check out this giant web on the streetlight outside my house!!!! That’s only a bit of it!!!

image

Help me!! :(