dear BITCH,
stop giving my number to random bitches in need of babysitters. why would anyone else want your sloppy seconds? everytime i'm forced to listen to a goddamn voicemail where someone cites you as the person that gave them my number, i'm completely stunned. especially given that you never hired me again after your shitbag of a husband insisted on driving me home (normally a minute - a minute and half walk) in his corvette, which you kept calling "the corvette" instead of "the car" like a fucking bitch. especially given that on the gazillion other times i've seen you at my normal babysitting abode, you've looked me in the eye but never said "hi" or even my name. just instructions. especially given that I FUCKING HATE BABYSITTING!
i hate you, go die, you're raising asshole kids that are obviously wading in the wake of your giant nasty asshole.
fuck you,
meg
(for those who don't know, my nemesis and i share a name, but she goes by the shorter version)
Sunday, July 31, 2011
follow my damn instructions, bitches
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rashida_Jones
trust me, the early life section will throw you for a loop. A LOOP.
trust me, the early life section will throw you for a loop. A LOOP.
there is no room for judgement here.
ok, for some unknown reason i follow a non-celebrity on twitter. WHY? I DON'T KNOW. i don't know how i started following her, but she tweets hilarity and i'd like to share a few. thanks. i mean, if she wasn't funny, how'd she get 53,000 followers? HUH? seriously, anyone get it
Saturday, July 30, 2011
my saturday night
tonight features a plethora of sadness. it includes oatmeal, a robe, and a documentary on the "history of sex."
so far, this history channel classic has touched on the "rediscovery" of the clitoris, the pill ("for the first time women got to choose when they got pregnant"...terribly depressing), and hugh hefner giving dumb interviews in which he discusses sex like a cocky asshole. like without him, no one in america would ever talk about sex in public.
i am so saddened by my life..., she says as she heaps in another spoonful of hazelnut latte oatmeal
oh wait i speak too soon! now the doc is discussing AIDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YAY
oh wait i speak too soon! now the doc is discussing AIDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YAY
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Sunday, July 24, 2011
i post this cuz i don't have a twitter
i wish the harry potter and the goblet of fire* soundtrack played intermittently through out my real life.
*note that does definitely not say harry potter and the deathly hallows part two
*note that does definitely not say harry potter and the deathly hallows part two
you want the TRUTH?!
i have a crush on one of these guys and i'll give you a hint, it ain't jake or amir. p.s. let's pretend i didn't post this
gatsby is king
here i am, wearing a dope ass outfit, feeling like hot shit, wondering why i haven't blogged in such a while. i mean, it hasn't been a shortage of a life, that's for sure.
okay, okay, i know. something you will all be able to understand and care deeply about, i'm sure.
my sister hates my car. our car. it's also her car, if i'm being totally honest with you, which i'm sort of hesitant about, but here we go. she hates it and she's embarrassed of it. erin will remember (woah! name dropping!) her tireless crusade against it during a summer-time rantfest she decided to appear in a few days ago. it was disgusting. she basically said: it's embarrassing we have such a shitty car meghan because my friends are so much better than it.
WHAAA?!
it was one of those few moments when you can actually see the RESPECT-O-METER in your head ding down three or four points. you know, i'm the first to admit it's a piece of shit. i will readily warn fellow passengers about its inexhaustible stench, its impractability (removable cupholders, one-way-to-lock security system, broken cassette player, no CD player, etc) and its old age. but for her to say that it's "sketchy" and that her friends have called it "sketchy" is simply an insult to her character, not gatsby's. in my opinion, it questions not the beauty of our car but rather the friends in which she chooses to keep and the superficiality of her priorities. so, if she'd rather not be seen in it, i don't really get why i keep being told to pick her up. she can be picked up by her mommy in her mommy's honda cr-v. right?!!?
BA BA BAM.... this has been nice.
okay, okay, i know. something you will all be able to understand and care deeply about, i'm sure.
my sister hates my car. our car. it's also her car, if i'm being totally honest with you, which i'm sort of hesitant about, but here we go. she hates it and she's embarrassed of it. erin will remember (woah! name dropping!) her tireless crusade against it during a summer-time rantfest she decided to appear in a few days ago. it was disgusting. she basically said: it's embarrassing we have such a shitty car meghan because my friends are so much better than it.
WHAAA?!
it was one of those few moments when you can actually see the RESPECT-O-METER in your head ding down three or four points. you know, i'm the first to admit it's a piece of shit. i will readily warn fellow passengers about its inexhaustible stench, its impractability (removable cupholders, one-way-to-lock security system, broken cassette player, no CD player, etc) and its old age. but for her to say that it's "sketchy" and that her friends have called it "sketchy" is simply an insult to her character, not gatsby's. in my opinion, it questions not the beauty of our car but rather the friends in which she chooses to keep and the superficiality of her priorities. so, if she'd rather not be seen in it, i don't really get why i keep being told to pick her up. she can be picked up by her mommy in her mommy's honda cr-v. right?!!?
BA BA BAM.... this has been nice.
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