Friday, December 03, 2004

Classy Is My Middle Name

I just spilled some pink lemonade all over my desk. And by "desk" I mean card table. I really am one classy bitch. Some other things that make me really classy:

- When Keri came up to visit, I asked her to bring me some conditioner because I didn't have any more. I guess they only had one bottle of it at home and my mom didn't want to give it up. So what bright idea does she come up with? Getting an old, empty ketchup bottle and pouring some conditioner in there. Now it looks like I eat French fries in the shower.
- I made out with an 18 year old boy at a party last night. Nothing classier than making out in front of 100 other people, right? I feel like I'm in high school saying "making out" so much. Is there a better word for it?
- I wear a coat appropriate namely Gay Pride. Not The Gay Pride. Just Gay Pride. You wouldn't call me The Katie, would you? Didn't think so.
- I am obsessed with Maury Povich. Every damn time, I'm 100% POSITIVE that Tyrone is most definitly Taniesha's babies daddy, but then Maury says, "Tyrone, you are NOT the father." Taniesha swore up and down she never slept around, but it's always the ones you wouldn't suspect that really are the sluts.
- I prefer beer to any other achohol. Arent't I supposed to like the fruity drinks or something? Last night though, I had to drink PBR. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a beer snob, I'll drink anything you hand me, but holy shit, that stuff was disgusting. Tasted fine after 3 or 4 cups though.
- I repeatedly hit my friend Chuck in the balls last night with my purse. It was funny to me until the last time I hit him, then my phone went flying. I thought I broke it because none of the buttons were working, but it's fine this morning. I need to learn some manners. No more hitting gentlemen in the balls. Promise.
- I will (and do) burp in front of anyone. I don't discriminate.

In other words, I had a great Thursday night. I was suppposed to get up at 11 to turn in some homework and go to a review session for a test, but of course I ended up sleeping until 1:30. Why do I not even care that I didn't hand in the homework I worked on for two hours. I'm just so goddamn lazy that I didn't want to walk all the way to campus just to hand in homework, even I'm sure I could have handed it in 2 hours late. Somebody really needs to light a fire under my ass to get me moving. Otherwise I get nothing accomplished. Is there a 12 step program for procrastination? Someone help me out here.

I got paid today for the measely 20 hours I worked over Thanksgiving. Already I spent $16 on food ($3 was for the tip, bitches). Good lord, $16? I could have gotten a nice meal at a restuarant for that amount. Instead I got a BLT. Or should I say BL becuase they forgot my favorite part, the tomato. Only three things constitiute a BLT and they forgot one of them. Assrammers.

I don't think I'm going out tonight. Emily has work tonight and early tomorrow, so she's not, so I figure I might as well stay in. Even though it is the last Friday here. Maybe I should stop being a pansy and just go out, but then I have to take a shower, pick out an outfit and straighten my hair. That's sounding like a little too much work. I think I'll stick with the lazy life.

Song de la moment: Earth Angel from Back to the Future. I don't like The Platters version as much as the version directly from the movie. I'm just a fool, a fool in love with you. Yes I will listen to it 34 times in a row. Please be mine, bitches.

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