I'm A Total Hack

And that's basically because I spent the duration of yesterday with not a single thought in my head.

It turns out that lack of things like caffeine and chocolate really plays a huge part in my ability to form thoughts and complete sentences. Hell, it really hinders my ability to just, you know, come up with words.

I spent most of the day grunting and falling asleep whenever the mood struck me. This pleased my bosses to no end and I'm pretty sure they're going to promote me really soon. I guess what I'm saying is that if I were a semi-delicious, breakfast "pastry" that you put in the toaster - I would have been a dust poptart. No delicious, gooey center of s'mores or cinnamon or strawberry. Just the dust from the cardboardy outside. And I wouldn't have even been the good frosted kind. I'd be the dull kind that just had holes that made you groan, "mawwwwwm, ugh, I hate this kind!" at your mother when you opened them. Hopefully, she would have smacked you and called you an ungrateful little shit. Because parents could totally get away with that back in the day and let's be real, you are an ungrateful little shit.

So here's the thing about that, that's fine for this crap pot pie of a blog, but then Rassles wrote me and asked me to guest post for her while she is in the Big Easy. I may or may not have called her a dicknose in the process of telling her I would do it. But the point is that I told her that I would. And she totally forgave the dicknose thing, mostly because I'm pretty sure she would have done something similar and she just may have written me on a weekend night and if that happens you just never know what the response is going to be. Oh and anything that was written on a shirt that Stiles wore is fair game for us to call each other. Plus? She sent me a picture of a monkey with a nose that looked just like a dick.

Turns out Rassles is a like a crazy deadline giver and wants me to actually give her something before she leaves for her trip. So I may stick with the dicknose thing because she's forcing me to do something today.

My hacky ass is hopped up on Diet Dr. Pepper and mini chocolate donuts because it also turns out that edamame and fucking yogurt just doesn't cut it. You can't write like a manic freak show if you're half dead from healthy eating.

You just can't.

PS - I have a banana in my lunch bag that is getting all sorts of ripe and now my lunch bag smells like the one I had as a kid.

Well minus the warm bologna and slimey American cheese on crap bread smell.