Aah men’s fashion… This looks like Kermit’s mouth when he’s upset.
Fashion.
Awesome. Read it in a day. Recommend.
So last night Jenn and I decided our downstairs neighbor was dead. This is based on some pretty shaky evidence, primarily that his car has been parked out front for a week with a ticket on it, his lights have been off all week, and he hasn’t been out smoking at all. So either a) he’s on vacation, is a moron, and forgot to move his car or b) he’s dead. He’s totally dead though.
We did some hardcore investigation online to see if we could find his phone number and call him, because he’s too weird and creepy for us to knock on his door and as him if he’s dead face to face. But alas, it was impossible to find him online anywhere. All we had was his first name, the first initial of his last name, and the fact that he was in the air force, according to his license plates. It may sound like we’re stalkers, but in reality, we just really care for the life of our neighbor that we absolutely despise. I was pretty surprised though, that in this day and age, it was impossible to find anything about someone with that sort of information. Burbank is not a big town. At least, I don’t think so. I know next to nothing about it.
In other news, my ceiling started being all drippy again last night, right when I thought I was ready to sleep in my bed again. I refused to move my Ikea bed slats again because they’re so awkward and hard to handle. Instead I just covered them in towels and set up a bucket. The water stain on my ceiling is now gargantuan, and it looks like our upstairs neighbor has a huge cat that peed, and it leaked through. Except we don’t have an upstairs neighbor. We have a downstairs one, though. At least, we used to.
Guys, I have a problem.
I have a Facebook friend who posts really annoying shit, but I don’t want to unfriend said person because I kind of enjoy how awful their posts are. But I can’t stop complaining about the posts. See? I have a problem. Let me see if I can explain the general nature of their posts while remaining as vague as possible… essentially, they are one-liners. Bad one-liners, that have nothing to do with their life, they’re just idiotic ‘witticisms’ that come to mind. 15 times a day. Sometimes 15 in an hour. I have a meeting now, go away.
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Somehow, I’ve made my way back to this thing. I don’t know how long this stay of mine will last, or if I’ll even bother to post tomorrow. But I do know that I’ve discovered that tumblr now offers themes for your blog… for $49. Unless I read that wrong. But if it’s true, that’s really stupid. Stupid enough for me to complain about. Stupid enough for me to stay a little late at work just so I can bitch. See? I’m still the same. I hope you are too.
You: “Look honey! Daddy bought you an enchanted cabinet!”
Daughter: “What the fuck is this? There’s nothing inside!”