today will go down in my memoirs as the day i knocked everything down.
the pope oughta tatoo "CLUMSY" accross my forehead. i mean, i wake up and i knock my alarm clock and break it. then i spill the following before leaving the house: shaving gel, aftershave, hair goo, and a tin of dog biscuits...then it occurs to me that i oughta put on my glasses.
ok, fine, glasses applied. luckily i don't crash into anything but when i go to feed the ducks at the pond i knock one over and he gets kinda cranky. i feel embarassed and walk away with my tail between my legs.
and now i just spilled a jar of vitamins and knocked some paintings off the shelf. oh and i fell into my house and knocked it down. tomorrow i'm going to blame it on my doppleganger, THE SINISTER MELVIS. i blame him for stealing my last 100 clonazepams and turning my dog into a bad dog.
currently searching for bridges under which to live.
and i hate my job. MY BOSS CAN SUCK IT!
xo,
twelvis
the pope oughta tatoo "CLUMSY" accross my forehead. i mean, i wake up and i knock my alarm clock and break it. then i spill the following before leaving the house: shaving gel, aftershave, hair goo, and a tin of dog biscuits...then it occurs to me that i oughta put on my glasses.
ok, fine, glasses applied. luckily i don't crash into anything but when i go to feed the ducks at the pond i knock one over and he gets kinda cranky. i feel embarassed and walk away with my tail between my legs.
and now i just spilled a jar of vitamins and knocked some paintings off the shelf. oh and i fell into my house and knocked it down. tomorrow i'm going to blame it on my doppleganger, THE SINISTER MELVIS. i blame him for stealing my last 100 clonazepams and turning my dog into a bad dog.
currently searching for bridges under which to live.
and i hate my job. MY BOSS CAN SUCK IT!
xo,
twelvis
inseptiv:
Speaking of glasses, I bought new frames today. The neatest part of visiting the optometrist was having him flip lenses on the lens doodad machine, asking me "better" or "worse". That machine humbles me. But I felt guilty, because most of the lens choices seemed to look the same. So I might have screwed myself out of better sight because when in doubt I kept saying "no. 1 is better" so he could feel he was doing his job. You know? Anyway, new glasses are neat like that: you know your sight is getting worse, but then you get to see better than you have for the last while. Oh wait, this is your journal... uhm, how do you knock over a duck?