Still fucking GUTTED I didn’t get to see Jesus Christ Superstar with my 3rd husband (who, creepily, looks like my cousin Kerry but I can overlook that cause 1. I haven’t seen her in like 20 years and 2. hello ENTERTAINMENT) playing Judas. Genius casting, just pure GENIUS.
Anywhoodle, to continue the buzz theme because why the fuck not, I have been a busy bee here in the MB2 hive and fucked up body parts notwithstanding shit is getting DONE.
Except for online shizzle. Obviously.
(the MB2 empire is crumbling around me and I couldn’t give two fucks and a handshake about it right now to be frank. I am over the pettiness and the so called friends that stand on your face to get the clicks. Fuck you.)
The Golden Child arrives on the weekend to a surprise party of EPIC proportions, making me wish I married Sister-In-Love cause I am still waiting for my romantic surprise ANYFUCKINGTHING and she pulls this shit every other week.
*sigh* reason number 811 that I need me a wife.
I am baking the birthday cake/s for an undisclosed amount of people. Could be a hundred. Could be just the five of us and some homeless dude that wandered in to use the bathroom, WHO FUCKING KNOWS! SURPRISE!
I have spent the last week cursing a certain online store that will remain nameless but rhymes with Think Geek (I was never good at this shit. FUN FACT: Pig latin confuses the ever loving shit out of me) as my order of Han Solo chocolate moulds still hasn’t turned up even though I ordered them OVER a month ago, causing me to ditch the OH SO FUCKING EASY Han Solo in carbonite cupcakes to go with the scale replica Boba Fett helmet, and go with a 60cm long brownie covered in ganache and HAND FUCKING MADE Han Solo that nearly caused me and anyone in a 500m radius to visit the stroke ward.
There are like 50 Real Housewives of All the Places on at the moment and Sister Wives is finally back, so I am like a pig in shit watching mah Housewives go at each other on my iPad while I get me some endorphins knocking back a few k’s on Newman.
You know to stave off the crazy.
Work is doing my head in, but that is just a given. Even more so of late with fuckwits thinking that if they just YELL LOUDER then they will be right. And the bitch doing my old job telling me something can’t be done when I know damn well it will take 5 fucking minutes and it was on MY to do list in 2009.
Oh and I sneezed the other day and thought I got my period but I kinda was relieved to find, after discovering that I didn’t have any tampons and the dude I would have to ask to fix the machine in the ladies loo that would invariably steal my coins and not give me the astronomically priced probably made of asbestos and nail filings sanitary products stole my car space that morning and I hate him cause I had to walk EIGHT EXTRA STEPS, that I just wet myself.
Did I tell you that I have added pelvic floor exercises to my exercise regime? You know, just for the shits and giggles of course.
Boo has been out of sorts and has basically been a fucking butthead. Autism is kicking all of our arses and then add the fucking teenage shit and I am ready to cut a bitch and her little dog by the end of the day. And the end of the day can’t come soon enough. As soon as he is holed up in his room on his self imposed ‘won’t leave even if my arse is on fire after 9pm’ room curfew you can bet your sweet not on fire arse I am halfway to the land of nod snuggled up in my bed with MPS begrudgingly at my side.
Which means I am wide awake any time between 3 and 5am and that sucks.
But instead of using that time constructively doing things like laundry or tweeting my friends on the other side of the world, I use that time to think of everything EVER, paying particular attention to anything embarrassing or horrible that has happened since 1984 and reliving it moment by moment.
I figure that anxiety burns WAY more calories than calmness does so that is my weightloss plan.
Boo got a haircut. This is only half of it. Someone best come and sweep that shit up.
I am pretty sure he is shorter now.
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