they allege that there is a heat wave going on, but living one block from the ocean means all i see is fog, and its chilly max one hundred percent. So smash an ice cream cone on my forehead and call me a unicorn, because it's like that.
my lips are resinated from all the bong smoke passing through them. let that be proof that i smoke WAYYYY TOO much weed. im saturated, yo. im starting to resemble that profile pic i use for my blogger account. its true.
i got saved from having to make the fucking trek out to arizona. it would have been hellacious-supreme working like a slave in that desert heat. ugh. (even though i would have done it, if i had to) BUT bossman threw my mack-daddy-self a jobby nearby. Bell, California.
i don't drink sprite, i am down with sierra mist. what type of life is this?!
i walked into my bank the other day and asked them, what the fuck is this shit all about anyways, who the fuck charges shit like that on an account of such an obviously starving stoner????? and then i poured myself a cup of coffee and grabbed a bag of popcorn, while i made sure to blast a fart before i left. i fucking hope with all of my heart it was an eggy one.
my bank hates me, which is why i just CASH my paychecks directly. you can't trust a bank, but you can't trust yourself drunk with a full paycheck of hundred dollar bills in your pocket either. such is life.
if you choose to sit around, and read blogs, then at least do it while eating cookies. it makes the experience more pleasant, and less shitty.
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