I hate the word "blog". It sounds like something the cat horked up on the carpet.
Anyway, life keeps getting more and more fucktacular. At this rate, I'm ready to kick back and welcome the end of existence. Thank you, Kevin Smith.
Here's a question: Why is it whenever I call ye olde collection agency to make a payment on some neverending bullshit, they always ALWAYS fucking ask, "Will you be paying the balance today?" FUCK NO, I won't be paying the balance. I work in retail. I make shit for money. I'll be paying the minimum amount required to keep you bastards from suing my ass and garnishing my meager wages. I tell them this, not in so many words. And they invariably respond, "Do you have anyone who could help you out?" Yeah. Paris Hilton is totally my BFF. Yeah. I have some rich, generous relatives but I just enjoy doling out huge chunks of my paychecks to you people SO MUCH. Seriously? They really ask that. What. WHAT.
People are absolutely insane. "I wasn't born with enough middle fingers". Ahh, that takes me back.
Thank god it's not credit card debt. Don't have interest racking up. A minor comfort.
Huh-huh. You said "rack". Yes, the eternal twelve-year-old that holes up in the back of my mind never misses a beat.
They shouldn't call this "Pounce's Blog". They should call it "Pounce Loses Her Fucking Mind Every Day Of Her Life And Shares Her Moments With SG". What new thoughts shall be wrenched from Pounce's overworked brain? How long until each and every one of her nerves are shot to hell...AGAIN? Stay tuned, kids!
Anyway, life keeps getting more and more fucktacular. At this rate, I'm ready to kick back and welcome the end of existence. Thank you, Kevin Smith.
Here's a question: Why is it whenever I call ye olde collection agency to make a payment on some neverending bullshit, they always ALWAYS fucking ask, "Will you be paying the balance today?" FUCK NO, I won't be paying the balance. I work in retail. I make shit for money. I'll be paying the minimum amount required to keep you bastards from suing my ass and garnishing my meager wages. I tell them this, not in so many words. And they invariably respond, "Do you have anyone who could help you out?" Yeah. Paris Hilton is totally my BFF. Yeah. I have some rich, generous relatives but I just enjoy doling out huge chunks of my paychecks to you people SO MUCH. Seriously? They really ask that. What. WHAT.
People are absolutely insane. "I wasn't born with enough middle fingers". Ahh, that takes me back.
Thank god it's not credit card debt. Don't have interest racking up. A minor comfort.
Huh-huh. You said "rack". Yes, the eternal twelve-year-old that holes up in the back of my mind never misses a beat.
They shouldn't call this "Pounce's Blog". They should call it "Pounce Loses Her Fucking Mind Every Day Of Her Life And Shares Her Moments With SG". What new thoughts shall be wrenched from Pounce's overworked brain? How long until each and every one of her nerves are shot to hell...AGAIN? Stay tuned, kids!