I am thinking that I will call off the job search and instead ask that employers line up to spit in my face. The effect would be, roughly speaking, the same thing.
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I used to be the girl all the men wanted to dance with. It's true: Men once enjoyed dancing with elderly women with bunions, facial hair, and breath like a teenage boy's armpit. No longer, though. Thank god. I fucking hate dancing.
About Me
Dropped some shit
There are links and then there are links. Hot damn.
- A Drinking Song
- Come on, David, it can't be that bad
- Eve can help
- Fuck you penguin
- Gray Matters
- Here is food. Food is for eat.
- I totally forgot about fafblog
- Junk Thief
- Life is a Question
- Miss Jill is Salty!
- Mr. White, you've got a lot to answer for
- Oysters and Beer
- Rich Bachelor is a sex machine
- Skookumchuck Notebook
- Some advice for your sorry ass
- The Other Fug Blog
- We're so sorry for your loss
- What's a gallimaufry?
- Wide-Eyed Kid is awesome (now w/more sexy sexy accent)
2 comments:
Well, there's that whole 'actually pay to get kicked down a flight of stairs' option, too. Most people? Two hun'red dollah. For you? Free.
Naw, why don't you write about how funny the phrase "she has triplets" sounds as an explanation for someone's absence?
"Shit, is it curable?"
"Is it contagious?"
"Does it hurt?"
"I've heard that's going around."
Etc.
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