OK!! You know what, people? I'm sick of planning and plotting and promising. I'm tired of being jealous of my husband. I am sick to death of my hurting back, and my chiropractor and my insurance and my pilates trainer. I will not allow my good nature to be trod upon any longer. I am buying a fucking desk chair. This fucker is rated as "high intensity." My ass and back and even my fucking tits will be perkier because of some sort of lumbar support thingy and one-touch something. I will roll on steel casters on a steel frame over to the other side of the room for NO REASON! My chair will adjust to the weirdo height of the old kitchen table i use as a desk. It arms will enfold me in their loving embrace until i weep with gratitude.
It's delivered on Monday.
After assembling, i think i will truly be able to write the great American novel.
Watch the fuck out.
It's delivered on Monday.
After assembling, i think i will truly be able to write the great American novel.
Watch the fuck out.
VIEW 25 of 44 COMMENTS
and don't worry your pretty, i'm not leaving you! they'd have to boot me. and even then we know i'd simply emerge again under a new alias, who am i kidding.
recently for me it's been vince vaughn.