ME (from my office): "great, my sweater stinks"
HIM (talking back, from his office): "why, what did you do to it?"
ME: "nothing, it just smells like stinky sweater"
HIM: "then take it off"
ME: "but...i'm COLD"
How many women who end up in emergency rooms and need to have their clothes removed or cut off by doctors before surgery have on Spanx?
This made me incredibly pouty. I have no other words.
Except, maybe accidentally drying on high when medium is specified can lead to heartbreaking results.
technorati tags: NaBloPoMo
As I sit here timing the highlights in my just-touched-up hair because of The Mousy, with wait time including an apricot facial scrub followed by a vitamin C mask because of Lizard Face, now ready to put in teeth-whitening strips because of Coffee Crack, contemplating self-tanner because of The Eternal Pasty, and noticing annoying scratchy barely-there stubble on my frecking-yesterday-shaved legs because of Just BECAUSE IT HATES ME, all while bumping around to cranked Beyonce, Britney, Fergie, and Rihanna for dance distraction (because It's Britney, Bitch) in preparation for the holiday weekend approaching, I am acutely aware of one thing...
...this female gig is one gigantic pain in the ass.
technorati tags: NaBloPoMO
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