i’m not gonna lie

my cheap toilet paper has chapped my butt.

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what i wonder

is what i would do without my whiteout. you know, while filling out taxes, FAFSAs, etc.

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what is the deal with pedestrians?

so i’m late to work this morning because there are so many pedestrians–pedestrians!–running around the streets like their eyeballs are on fire and can’t see ANYTHING!

what is the deal with pedestrians who think they own the road? i literally could run over them in my truck, which i have. not something i am proud of, but proves my point nonetheless.

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does it disappoint you that i’m back?

because i am. newly employed and moving on to bigger and better thoughts.

stay tuned.

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i’m not one to talk

i don’t like to exaggerate things, but i’ll tell you what: when i say i make a mean roast lamb, i mean it.

(did i confuse you with the two different uses of the word “mean”? gotcha.)

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yeah, so

do i enjoy telling everyone else in the office what to do? no, i don’t. but someone’s gotta do it, and my boss isn’t as good at it as i wish he’d be.

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so i took a long vacation . . .

i have my reasons.

anyway, happy and pissed to be back.

first thought: don’t you just hate it when you type in your username and then don’t hit the tab button hard enough and start typing your “ilove******” password in the username box instead of the password box?

i do. i always look behind me for spyers.


i ate six cookies today and i feel sick.

i don’t feel sick BECAUSE i ate six cookies. i was feeling sick before i ate the cookies, which is why i ate the cookies in the first place. just wanted to clarify.

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is there anything worse . . .

than a zit in your nose? okay, scratch that. than a zit in each nostril of your nose?

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“remember when”

well, looks like alan jackson has redeemed himself. “remember when” is now playing from my boss’s office and it’s pretty.

but i can’t help thinking of things i remember:

remember when you weighed 10 pounds less?

remember when you bought me things?

. . . when you had a job?

. . . when you did things i asked you to do?

. . . when you didn’t ask me to do things?

. . . when you didn’t look at other women in front of me?

. . . when i cared when you looked at other women?

remember when you weren’t an arrogant butt face?

i remember those times and man, man. i really do miss them.

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