Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Old McDonald had a Farm.
This weekend is holiday weekend (read: bikini's & smorgasboard of moomoo junk food) also, next weekend is family reunion in Laughlin (read: bikini's & copious amts of alcohol).
Are you feeling any of this anxiety radiating from my fingertips and leaking itself into the internet?
I assure you it's at level: Nuclear Atom Bomb. Bikini's are scurry.
Seriously, bikini's affect my hearing. There are no words when I am wearing one all I hear are "moo"'s and the earth rumbling from every step I take. AND it's gonna be hotter than Satan's Vagina. Whose bright idea was it to go to the desert in muther effing Julyheatstroke weather? Not mine, my friends. Certainly. Not. Mine.
I don't want to go (can you tell? Yes. Just checking.) but "I'm fat, broke and I will melt onto the sidewalk and end up SunnySideUp by Sunday" is not what my mom considers a "Good Excuse" actually she believes it to not even qualify to be in the "Excuse" catagory. But I really don't think "my dog ate it" would work in this situation which is the only "good excuse" that I know. So I'll be dreaming up new ones for the next two weeks.