If it were later than 12:16 p.m. and if I had eaten anything yet today, I would take a double shot of whiskey right now. I might do it anyway because any negative repercussions from that would have to be better than feeling every ounce of pain I’m enduring today.
I am doing my taxes.
And you know what, right this second, I’m NOT proud to be an American. I’m not even proud to be a human being today. I am certainly not enjoying the fact that I share air and a planet with whatever assholes invented and maintain the IRS.
It makes me want to blow shit up. Not people, that would be taking it too far, but definitely shit. Like watermelons and outhouses and maybe even a taco truck.
she’s like that.
Libertarian?
(And why do they blame the poor, and not the corporations?)
Just asking.
8-5??
*tiptoes out quietly*
*whispers, “hide…the knives…shhhh*
well… the tv seems to still exist….
Though why she called in a couple of heavies (“Friends? You say you’re my friends? Douchebags!“) and had me tied down during the seventh inning when I started flinging shit and threatening Rhoidboy’s first borne….
Ahh, fuckit. This season won’t make any sense till the middle of June, and then it will be a psycho bet.
And my dumbass will probably make it.