So I'm studying for the bar exam, which I am positive I will fail (more on this later), and when I need a break, I go outside and take a small spade and smash the shit out of box elder bugs. In case you don't know what they are, google them, find a picture, get grossed out, and then imagine a total and complete infestation in one area of rock at the house. And then imagine me running around with a spade with crazy messy hair, yelling and stomping and hitting things with it. That's me. And keep in mind that despite my stress from studying I'd probably still be acting the same way, because they are nasty and disgusting and I hate them.
Box Elder Bugs are seriously annoying as hell. They come out of the cracks of everything and can fly. Their main goal in life is to make me feel like they are crawling all over me any time I see one. And they can be super tiny to really big and that also grosses me out. Thinking about it makes me gag. That is why I squish them. Multiple homicides help me feel like a better person. Plus they make a lovely red color when I KILL THEIR GUTS, DEATH BY SQUISHING. It is fantastic, really.
But the fact they keep coming back and never seem to end really pisses me off, and how every time I come in the house I feel like they are all over me is so freaking gross that I CALL SHENANIGANS on them. gross gross gross.
Also I hate the bar exam. I am 99% sure I am going to fail and since I have no job lined up I guess it is no big loss. I am doing worse and worse on my practice things, my head feels like it is going to explode, and I am constantly on the verge of tears/a nervous breakdown/a postal rampage and probably will be until the bar is over. It is literally putting knots in my stomach that make me not want to eat. HOORAY INVOLUNTARY WEIGHT LOSS!
I don't know if I can handle this for much longer. I don't feel like I know enough to take the test and pass. I bust my butt and I know ZERO. I am sick and tired of studying but when I look up from my books I feel guilty as hell. I feel guilty right now typing this bullhonkey. What the balls.
So I CALL SHENANIGANS on you, bar exam. I am sick of this hazing ritual to try to get into a profession that no one respects anymore anyway. Oh yeah, lawyers are so great and cool. Awesome, I can't wait. Yeah, tell me another lawyer joke, and I'll tell you the great one about the lawyer who was unemployed and broke and had over $100K in student loans!! HAHA FUNNY! ISN'T THAT A GREAT ONE? Shut up, I will put you in a headlock and give you a noogie.
SHENANIGANS!
I hate this being on the edge all the damn time thing. It is driving me nuts and I am starting to bite my nails which I have not done for a very long time. The stress is KILLING me. Literally. I am fairly certain if I do not suffer a disabling panic attack or heart attack before the bar it will be nothing short of a miracle.
Also, sorry for the lack of posts. I have been busy. I'm not sorry, actually. I've been busy and enjoying my life. Besides, like you really wanted to listen to me bitch and moan anyway. Whatever. Call me when I'm not cranky...like after 4:00 pm on July 30.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Sunday, May 11, 2008
I hate being a grown up.
Law school graduation is near, and to be honest, I’m terrified.
Seems stupid, right? 22+ years of schooling, I should be freaking ECSTATIC to be done, and in a way, I am…but at the same time, I’m really scared.
The job market here blows goats, and when your debt is more than the price of a nice house in the ‘burbs, you start to worry a little. Especially because now that I know exactly what I want to do, I’m not willing to sell out and take a job that’s not in criminal law in some form, regardless of the paycheck.
And that’s really what scares me the most. Not getting to do what I want to do and what I love. I have found a passion for something and more than anything it’s what I want to do, and I’m terrified that I won’t be able to do it.
It’s just weird, too. The whole finally being a lawyer thing. Being 25 and being a grown up. I just don’t feel “grown up.” I’ve admired lawyers my whole life, looked up to them…and even now, working with them for years, I still don’t feel as if I’m on a level playing field. I don’t even feel like I can make it to the same level. I know that the people I work with are my colleagues and soon enough (provided I pass the bar) I’ll be held to the same level and esteem they are, but I still feel like a little sprout when it comes to the whole “being a lawyer” thing. Even people who have recently passed the bar and are really only a year ahead of me in being licensed, I just don’t feel like that’s where I’m at either, or where I will be come October. I can’t even begin to explain it other than that I sound like a total pussy and that I’m scared of the real world and scared of graduating and really could just use a hug.
It’s like having a dream your whole life, like maybe being an astronaut, and you go to school for so long, and then suddenly you get to be put on a moon mission and WHAM, you’re an astronaut. Except when you become an astronaut they make you do all this special training and in law school they don’t really require you to go through the special training, and then you’re up in space and you realize after takeoff you’ve forgotten to strap yourself in properly because no one told you how to do it. I worry that will happen to me. Not that I’m going up in space anytime soon but that I’ll do the wrong thing and end up the laughingstock of the crim law community.
SHENANIGANS on irrational fear of failure. Cause that’s definitely what I’ve got right now. And the thing is I’ve got a lot of skills and I’m pretty good at what I do (or at least I like to think so) and I probably have a better understanding of how it all works than most, so maybe I shouldn’t worry. But then again I also thought at one point in time that gluing my swimsuit on my butt to keep it from creeping up my ass in a pageant was a good idea, so my judgment is a little clouded.
And also…SHENANIGANS on fallen hems. My suits, for some reason, have decided that my left pant leg needs to be 2 inches longer than my right pant leg and have let the hems loose. Of course I wouldn’t be domestic enough to have a needle and thread just lying around my apartment so I have to wait until I can get up to my mom’s and borrow some stuff from her so I can re-hem my pant legs. It’ll happen, I just don’t know when. Probably not anytime soon. So I’m going to just wear my damn suits with the one long pant leg and claim polio or something.
The funniest story in the news this week was on the Pioneer Press website where this guy is trying to claim police brutality from the Newport Police Department. Now I read the article and I really don’t know what sort of brutality he’s claiming, and I don’t really have an opinion on it, but in the picture he’s holding a sign that says “Newport Gestapo” and I totally want in. I think I’d make a pretty awesome tyrannical leader.* I’d also like to point out the alliteration with my name, which I think would be an awesome Mob Boss nickname, unlike people with nicknames like “Bobby Phones,” “Cheesebox,” and “Yeast Baron.”**
I’d also like to call SHENANIGANS on my disrupted sleep pattern. I can’t fall asleep before 2:00am anytime. And I wake up pretty much at the same time every day and then right around 3:00 I start to feel like I need a nap, but I don’t take one. And then by 6:00 I’m wide awake again until usually between 2:30-3:30 in the morning when I can finally sleep until I wake up again at 6:30. I feel like I’m back in college. It’s wearing me out. I am sure a lot of it is finals (my last one tonight at 6:00pm!) and the stress of graduation and all that good stuff but BALLS, is it really to much to ask for 6, maybe 8 hours of sleep? Just once? I was all ready to go to bed around 10:00pm tonight, but my body said NOOOO, NO, EAT MORE POP TARTS! DRINK MORE WATER! WATCH THREE EPISODES OF LAW AND ORDER SVU! WRITE A BLOG! And really, who am I to question to glory that is Chris Meloni, aka Elliot Stabler, when he’s on my TiVo.
The pool at the apartment is open, but sadly the beautiful weather we had earlier occurred pre-pool opening and now it is really too chilly to be outside in almost-no-clothes-in-water-with-a-breeze-and-no-sun, so the pool will have to wait until nicer days appear. And I have two new swimsuits for the season! Hoorays! I am looking forward to parading around in my bikini right next to a busy street where everyone can look in and see me! AWESOME! (but seriously I do want to swim in the pool.)
So there’s that. Any takers on the hug? Please?
*please note that while the general understanding of “Gestapo” refers to the collective group of naughtiness by the Nazis during WWII, in today’s world, it is used colloquially for other organizations which are felt to be tyrannical.
**Actual Mobsters. No lie. I mean Yeast Baron?! Really? Some people’s kids.
Seems stupid, right? 22+ years of schooling, I should be freaking ECSTATIC to be done, and in a way, I am…but at the same time, I’m really scared.
The job market here blows goats, and when your debt is more than the price of a nice house in the ‘burbs, you start to worry a little. Especially because now that I know exactly what I want to do, I’m not willing to sell out and take a job that’s not in criminal law in some form, regardless of the paycheck.
And that’s really what scares me the most. Not getting to do what I want to do and what I love. I have found a passion for something and more than anything it’s what I want to do, and I’m terrified that I won’t be able to do it.
It’s just weird, too. The whole finally being a lawyer thing. Being 25 and being a grown up. I just don’t feel “grown up.” I’ve admired lawyers my whole life, looked up to them…and even now, working with them for years, I still don’t feel as if I’m on a level playing field. I don’t even feel like I can make it to the same level. I know that the people I work with are my colleagues and soon enough (provided I pass the bar) I’ll be held to the same level and esteem they are, but I still feel like a little sprout when it comes to the whole “being a lawyer” thing. Even people who have recently passed the bar and are really only a year ahead of me in being licensed, I just don’t feel like that’s where I’m at either, or where I will be come October. I can’t even begin to explain it other than that I sound like a total pussy and that I’m scared of the real world and scared of graduating and really could just use a hug.
It’s like having a dream your whole life, like maybe being an astronaut, and you go to school for so long, and then suddenly you get to be put on a moon mission and WHAM, you’re an astronaut. Except when you become an astronaut they make you do all this special training and in law school they don’t really require you to go through the special training, and then you’re up in space and you realize after takeoff you’ve forgotten to strap yourself in properly because no one told you how to do it. I worry that will happen to me. Not that I’m going up in space anytime soon but that I’ll do the wrong thing and end up the laughingstock of the crim law community.
SHENANIGANS on irrational fear of failure. Cause that’s definitely what I’ve got right now. And the thing is I’ve got a lot of skills and I’m pretty good at what I do (or at least I like to think so) and I probably have a better understanding of how it all works than most, so maybe I shouldn’t worry. But then again I also thought at one point in time that gluing my swimsuit on my butt to keep it from creeping up my ass in a pageant was a good idea, so my judgment is a little clouded.
And also…SHENANIGANS on fallen hems. My suits, for some reason, have decided that my left pant leg needs to be 2 inches longer than my right pant leg and have let the hems loose. Of course I wouldn’t be domestic enough to have a needle and thread just lying around my apartment so I have to wait until I can get up to my mom’s and borrow some stuff from her so I can re-hem my pant legs. It’ll happen, I just don’t know when. Probably not anytime soon. So I’m going to just wear my damn suits with the one long pant leg and claim polio or something.
The funniest story in the news this week was on the Pioneer Press website where this guy is trying to claim police brutality from the Newport Police Department. Now I read the article and I really don’t know what sort of brutality he’s claiming, and I don’t really have an opinion on it, but in the picture he’s holding a sign that says “Newport Gestapo” and I totally want in. I think I’d make a pretty awesome tyrannical leader.* I’d also like to point out the alliteration with my name, which I think would be an awesome Mob Boss nickname, unlike people with nicknames like “Bobby Phones,” “Cheesebox,” and “Yeast Baron.”**
I’d also like to call SHENANIGANS on my disrupted sleep pattern. I can’t fall asleep before 2:00am anytime. And I wake up pretty much at the same time every day and then right around 3:00 I start to feel like I need a nap, but I don’t take one. And then by 6:00 I’m wide awake again until usually between 2:30-3:30 in the morning when I can finally sleep until I wake up again at 6:30. I feel like I’m back in college. It’s wearing me out. I am sure a lot of it is finals (my last one tonight at 6:00pm!) and the stress of graduation and all that good stuff but BALLS, is it really to much to ask for 6, maybe 8 hours of sleep? Just once? I was all ready to go to bed around 10:00pm tonight, but my body said NOOOO, NO, EAT MORE POP TARTS! DRINK MORE WATER! WATCH THREE EPISODES OF LAW AND ORDER SVU! WRITE A BLOG! And really, who am I to question to glory that is Chris Meloni, aka Elliot Stabler, when he’s on my TiVo.
The pool at the apartment is open, but sadly the beautiful weather we had earlier occurred pre-pool opening and now it is really too chilly to be outside in almost-no-clothes-in-water-with-a-breeze-and-no-sun, so the pool will have to wait until nicer days appear. And I have two new swimsuits for the season! Hoorays! I am looking forward to parading around in my bikini right next to a busy street where everyone can look in and see me! AWESOME! (but seriously I do want to swim in the pool.)
So there’s that. Any takers on the hug? Please?
*please note that while the general understanding of “Gestapo” refers to the collective group of naughtiness by the Nazis during WWII, in today’s world, it is used colloquially for other organizations which are felt to be tyrannical.
**Actual Mobsters. No lie. I mean Yeast Baron?! Really? Some people’s kids.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
I hate having knots in my back.
I slept like crap last night.
Part of the reason for this was because I was at my mom and stepdad’s house and the dogs (their collie/lab mix and my puggle) were in their respective kennels in the same room I slept in. Normally I do not sleep in this room, but because they are expecting a guest tonight, I had to sleep in the other room.
So I’m on a bed that isn’t super comfy, and every time I move, the dogs hear it and start to whine and make noise. It is ridiculous. SUPER ridiculous. I can’t sleep for longer than an hour or two before my dog makes whining noises because of either me moving or the other dog moving. And not being comfortable makes me have to move around a lot resulting in a ton of pain in my upper back which is extending into my arm. AWESOME.
So very little sleep + sore back = cranky me.
Add to this a not-so-awesome IHOP breakfast and WHAM, now you’ve REALLY got a reversal of fortune, which means I’m hanging out at the toilet instead of going to my sister’s jazz concert today. My crabbyness is at its breaking point.
And it’s snowing outside. WTF.
I love my Wii, and the fact I have a kajillion games for it makes it that much more awesome. My new favorites at the moment are Scarface and The Godfather, because you get to beat the crap out of people, and it makes me feel better when I come home and am angsty on the inside. However, I have several two player games and it makes me sad because they are not as fun to play with only one player! So this is an invite to all of you that know me…come play Wii with me. I can supply chips and candy and Wii. You can supply yourself. Just call me and we’ll schedule something. And maybe, just maybe, if you are really awesome, I’ll bust out my Super Nintendo and we can play Street Fighter II Turbo. Maybe.
I saw Baby Mama. It was okay. Cute movie, predictable, but enjoyable for what it was. I guess I was expecting more laughs and less drama than what it actually was (the previews made it look like more of a comedy than a drama) but I still liked it.
Also thinking of going back to Vegas in August, let me know if you are interested and want to come…
Part of the reason for this was because I was at my mom and stepdad’s house and the dogs (their collie/lab mix and my puggle) were in their respective kennels in the same room I slept in. Normally I do not sleep in this room, but because they are expecting a guest tonight, I had to sleep in the other room.
So I’m on a bed that isn’t super comfy, and every time I move, the dogs hear it and start to whine and make noise. It is ridiculous. SUPER ridiculous. I can’t sleep for longer than an hour or two before my dog makes whining noises because of either me moving or the other dog moving. And not being comfortable makes me have to move around a lot resulting in a ton of pain in my upper back which is extending into my arm. AWESOME.
So very little sleep + sore back = cranky me.
Add to this a not-so-awesome IHOP breakfast and WHAM, now you’ve REALLY got a reversal of fortune, which means I’m hanging out at the toilet instead of going to my sister’s jazz concert today. My crabbyness is at its breaking point.
And it’s snowing outside. WTF.
I love my Wii, and the fact I have a kajillion games for it makes it that much more awesome. My new favorites at the moment are Scarface and The Godfather, because you get to beat the crap out of people, and it makes me feel better when I come home and am angsty on the inside. However, I have several two player games and it makes me sad because they are not as fun to play with only one player! So this is an invite to all of you that know me…come play Wii with me. I can supply chips and candy and Wii. You can supply yourself. Just call me and we’ll schedule something. And maybe, just maybe, if you are really awesome, I’ll bust out my Super Nintendo and we can play Street Fighter II Turbo. Maybe.
I saw Baby Mama. It was okay. Cute movie, predictable, but enjoyable for what it was. I guess I was expecting more laughs and less drama than what it actually was (the previews made it look like more of a comedy than a drama) but I still liked it.
Also thinking of going back to Vegas in August, let me know if you are interested and want to come…
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
I hate Allergies and the Weather
So it’s springtime here in the great state of Minnesota…for the next 15 minutes.
I hate Minnesota weather. It drives me up the wall. It’s gorgeous one day and absolutely wretched the next, and it makes it impossible to figure out what I should wear. Inevitably, I am too hot or too cold and bitch about it the entire day.
Spring is the worst. The snow melts and all the mold gets into the air, making me miserable and rendering me useless for a good day and a half. And then, suddenly, a shitpile of snow falls, covering the mold, and then melts a day later, kicking up more mold, making me more miserable and wanting to hit my head against a brick wall.
I am sick of Minnesota playing this “just the tip” game with the weather. Come on, feel that sunshine. Doesn’t it feel good? Don’t you want it to be sunny? Won’t you come outside and enjoy the sunshine? JUST KIDDING, here’s 8 more inches of snow. And oh, look, more sun, don’t you want more of it? Don’t you just want to try it? RAIN RAIN RAIN RAIN RAIN.
SCREW YOU, Minnesota weather, I call SHENANIGANS. And I am NOT a microwave, you can’t just pop spring in and out like this. UNFAIR.
I also really dislike driving when it is raining. Not because I feel like I cannot drive in those conditions, but because other drivers clearly can’t. They drive 20 miles under the speed limit and swerve all over the road as if their car has a mind of its own. Seriously. It’s rain. It’s not going to hurt you. You aren’t going to melt. I promise that if you drive the speed limit you are not more likely to get in an accident and kill yourself. And I’m not going to write the obvious thought I have down, because it is fairly mean and bitchy, and even though I’m mean and bitchy, I am in a pretty good mood today.
Lately I have been having issues with food. On several levels. I’m hungry for something and I can’t figure out what so I’m always dissatisfied with what I eat. This makes eating far less enjoyable. So I try to eat as much as I can in hopes that I will find the thing I’m hungry for…and instead I gain like 100 pounds. AWESOME. I didn’t want to wear those jeans anyway, all cute and little and NOT FITTING MY HUGE ASS. Sonaofabitch.
Also I have really bad acid reflux. This is not a fun time for me. Every time I eat there’s significant burnination in my esophagus. I have been taking meds for it for a few months now and even though I take my pill every day there is still burnination. Unfair. I don’t like it. Even drinking water gives me acid reflux. It could seriously take the tarnish off of your silverware. Not even joking a little.
I’m assuming this is from my harsh, abrasive, burny personality. KIDDING. Maybe. But seriously, I don’t know why this is happening and I’m pretty damn sick of it. Also don’t tell me to go to the doctor because I don’t have health insurance and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna pay a shit ton to have a doctor tell me to keep doing what I’m doing, and they don’t understand why it keeps happening (which is what they told me the last time).
I fell at work the other day. Hit a pothole in the grass and biffed it completely, sending my files flying and getting dirt all up on my pants. My DRY CLEAN ONLY pants which are now going to be placed in the washing machine, because I am not sending them out to be cleaned. The worst part of all is the guy in the motorized wheelchair coming up to me and laughing at me, whatever dude, you are in a WHEELCHAIR, you have no rights to laugh at me and my hurt pride!!
I really liked Juno, so I think I’m going to try to procure a copy of Diablo Cody’s first book Candy Girl, which is about her life as a stripper in Minnesota. Pretty sweet, I think. Also I really want to see Young @Heart, I think it looks amazing.
SO that’s the update from me thus far, since I’ve gotten crap about not posting recently. SORRY I have been writing a ridiculous paper for my seminar class about child abuse and domestic assault and it is hard to be funny and obnoxious when you’ve got that on your mind. Although I’m now taking applications for “BUY ME A BEER I AM GRADUATING” peeps, so if you want to come out with me some time and buy me a beer to celebrate my 20+ years of schooling, that’s pretty awesome.
I hate Minnesota weather. It drives me up the wall. It’s gorgeous one day and absolutely wretched the next, and it makes it impossible to figure out what I should wear. Inevitably, I am too hot or too cold and bitch about it the entire day.
Spring is the worst. The snow melts and all the mold gets into the air, making me miserable and rendering me useless for a good day and a half. And then, suddenly, a shitpile of snow falls, covering the mold, and then melts a day later, kicking up more mold, making me more miserable and wanting to hit my head against a brick wall.
I am sick of Minnesota playing this “just the tip” game with the weather. Come on, feel that sunshine. Doesn’t it feel good? Don’t you want it to be sunny? Won’t you come outside and enjoy the sunshine? JUST KIDDING, here’s 8 more inches of snow. And oh, look, more sun, don’t you want more of it? Don’t you just want to try it? RAIN RAIN RAIN RAIN RAIN.
SCREW YOU, Minnesota weather, I call SHENANIGANS. And I am NOT a microwave, you can’t just pop spring in and out like this. UNFAIR.
I also really dislike driving when it is raining. Not because I feel like I cannot drive in those conditions, but because other drivers clearly can’t. They drive 20 miles under the speed limit and swerve all over the road as if their car has a mind of its own. Seriously. It’s rain. It’s not going to hurt you. You aren’t going to melt. I promise that if you drive the speed limit you are not more likely to get in an accident and kill yourself. And I’m not going to write the obvious thought I have down, because it is fairly mean and bitchy, and even though I’m mean and bitchy, I am in a pretty good mood today.
Lately I have been having issues with food. On several levels. I’m hungry for something and I can’t figure out what so I’m always dissatisfied with what I eat. This makes eating far less enjoyable. So I try to eat as much as I can in hopes that I will find the thing I’m hungry for…and instead I gain like 100 pounds. AWESOME. I didn’t want to wear those jeans anyway, all cute and little and NOT FITTING MY HUGE ASS. Sonaofabitch.
Also I have really bad acid reflux. This is not a fun time for me. Every time I eat there’s significant burnination in my esophagus. I have been taking meds for it for a few months now and even though I take my pill every day there is still burnination. Unfair. I don’t like it. Even drinking water gives me acid reflux. It could seriously take the tarnish off of your silverware. Not even joking a little.
I’m assuming this is from my harsh, abrasive, burny personality. KIDDING. Maybe. But seriously, I don’t know why this is happening and I’m pretty damn sick of it. Also don’t tell me to go to the doctor because I don’t have health insurance and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna pay a shit ton to have a doctor tell me to keep doing what I’m doing, and they don’t understand why it keeps happening (which is what they told me the last time).
I fell at work the other day. Hit a pothole in the grass and biffed it completely, sending my files flying and getting dirt all up on my pants. My DRY CLEAN ONLY pants which are now going to be placed in the washing machine, because I am not sending them out to be cleaned. The worst part of all is the guy in the motorized wheelchair coming up to me and laughing at me, whatever dude, you are in a WHEELCHAIR, you have no rights to laugh at me and my hurt pride!!
I really liked Juno, so I think I’m going to try to procure a copy of Diablo Cody’s first book Candy Girl, which is about her life as a stripper in Minnesota. Pretty sweet, I think. Also I really want to see Young @Heart, I think it looks amazing.
SO that’s the update from me thus far, since I’ve gotten crap about not posting recently. SORRY I have been writing a ridiculous paper for my seminar class about child abuse and domestic assault and it is hard to be funny and obnoxious when you’ve got that on your mind. Although I’m now taking applications for “BUY ME A BEER I AM GRADUATING” peeps, so if you want to come out with me some time and buy me a beer to celebrate my 20+ years of schooling, that’s pretty awesome.
Friday, April 4, 2008
I hate children with bad behavior.
So on the news is this story about these kids that planned to kill their teacher. They all had different jobs like covering windows, stabbing their teacher, and cleaning up the blood.
WHAT THE BALLS.
I am terrified of children on most days anyway, but now they are 8, 9, and 10 years old, and are coming up with complicated plans to murder their elders. This to me is a sign of the apocalypse. My life is in danger. You bet your ass I'm never having some kind of parasite all up in my girlparts. Like hell I'm gonna contribute to the downfall of society. I hated Children of the Corn, and as far as I'm concerned, He Who Walks Behind the Rows has NOTHIN on me when I'm on the rag.
WHAT THE BALLS.
I am terrified of children on most days anyway, but now they are 8, 9, and 10 years old, and are coming up with complicated plans to murder their elders. This to me is a sign of the apocalypse. My life is in danger. You bet your ass I'm never having some kind of parasite all up in my girlparts. Like hell I'm gonna contribute to the downfall of society. I hated Children of the Corn, and as far as I'm concerned, He Who Walks Behind the Rows has NOTHIN on me when I'm on the rag.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
I hate crunchy cookies.
Today I went to Subway to get lunch and I got a cookie because from the looks of the cookies on the display case, deliciousness was to ensue. However, the dude that rang me up picked up the crumbliest, browniest, stupid crunchy cookie and put it in my bag before I had time to say anything. So I kind of just grumbled to myself about wanting a different cookie and walked out to my car. As far as cookies go, if they are supposed to be fresh baked and delicious, they should also be undercooked and doughy, because crispy cookies that are almost black are nasty. Who wants to eat a cookie that could be used for some sort of housing material? Not me.
I don't really care about the risk of food poisoning because at least while my insides are turning into mush and I am dying from all sorts of organ failure I'll be able to look up and say, "Hey, I really enjoyed that cookie."
Not that I really expected today to be all that great anyway. I woke up this morning to my dog in my bed making really awesome harfing sounds right by my ear. Sweet. So I pick her up and bring her to her little kennel and litter box and on the way there she pukes right into my hand, and it was easily the nastiest thing ever. So I'm trying not to gag, bring her to her kennel, and get the nasty puke off my hand all at the same time, and my dog in a moment of sheer stupidity starts LICKING HER PUKE OFF MY HAND trying to eat it again and at that moment I run into the bathroom and throw up. If she wants to puke on the floor, fine. I don't care. I'll clean it up and smile. Just don't eat it. Gross.
I don't really care about the risk of food poisoning because at least while my insides are turning into mush and I am dying from all sorts of organ failure I'll be able to look up and say, "Hey, I really enjoyed that cookie."
Not that I really expected today to be all that great anyway. I woke up this morning to my dog in my bed making really awesome harfing sounds right by my ear. Sweet. So I pick her up and bring her to her little kennel and litter box and on the way there she pukes right into my hand, and it was easily the nastiest thing ever. So I'm trying not to gag, bring her to her kennel, and get the nasty puke off my hand all at the same time, and my dog in a moment of sheer stupidity starts LICKING HER PUKE OFF MY HAND trying to eat it again and at that moment I run into the bathroom and throw up. If she wants to puke on the floor, fine. I don't care. I'll clean it up and smile. Just don't eat it. Gross.
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