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[15 Oct 2009|10:22pm] |
So I got an interview coming up, just a part time thing. Cooking of course, gotta get as much practice in as I can. Kinda gets me down to be working so much, but I need the money bad, and, well, I ain't got anything better to do. Not like I got me a whole mess of friends to be going out with, I don't even got a working TV. So if I ain't working, then all I'm going is sitting around doing a whole lot of nothing, and doing nothing is going to get me nowhere.
I've been missing home lately. Well, not home really, no way I'm gonna miss that place, but Rosalie. I miss her yellow kitchen and her 45s and the radio and sitting on the back porch drinking lemonade and complaining about the swamp stink coming up from across the street and laughing about how many mosquito bites we were gonna have the next morning...
Lord, I need to get me a life.
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| The internet works! |
[06 Jul 2009|09:14pm] |
Why people gotta just throw their clothes into the machine in one big wad? Is it so hard to make it even? Says so right on the machine not to be an ass. Maybe not in those particular words, but it just about means the same thing! Sounds like there is a washing machine dance off going on down there. I guess its to be expected, living above a laundry mat...
I'm afraid that lovely clean clothes smell what wafts up here is going to lose its appeal. :[
Alright, I'm done complaining about the new apartment.'Cause its actually real nice! And its so much bigger than my old one AND if I'm ever lonely I can just bother Miss Joey whenever I please. But I ain't touching that futon, Jo. I don't care if its free from VISIBLE scary things, its the critters you CAN'T see that are the worst. I'm boycotting it for one more week, just waiting to see if you break out in a rash or if maybe all your hair's gonna fall out. Febreze isn't the answer to everything.
Don't you bring up my mattress 'cause it may be older than dirt but at least I know where its been all its life. And what's been on it. And I'm completely sure it ain't breathing at night, biding its time, or evolving in some horrible way. None of these things can be said about The Futon.
Seeing how this just turned into an open letter to Joey Bristol...
Ma'am, you make mac n cheese in my kitchen again and we will be having words. The stink haunts me.
What do you think you got me for? Stay out my kitchen!
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