Oh, my, god.
It is SO FRIGGING cold outside. I don’t think you people realize. My skin–my extremeties, my internal organs–they’re all dysfunctioning because they’re slowly but surely becoming solid chunks of ice inside my body. My ears are as good as gone. Frost bite is on the agenda, folks. The inside of my bottom lip is actually cold. THE INSIDE!! I’m half-expecting to glance out the window just in time to see an arctic glacier crashing through the parking lot into the building. I wouldn’t be surprised. This is the type of unforgiving painful cold that not even the Abominable Snowman would enjoy. Cancun, anyone?
Don’t drink the water.
Know what I hate? Big Biters. You know the ones. You’re quietly enjoying your last Lean Pocket in the corner by yourself, and someone walks in, eyes it down, and goes, “Hey, can I have a bite??” looking really eager and pathetic. You glance down at your steamy cheesy morsel and then back at them, and reluctantly but kindly decide to let them; then they repay you by deep-throating your Lean Pocket and chomping off 2/3 of what was left.
Midge, Kayla, and I believe Kelli “I Have Huge Knockers & On Top Of That I Love Leopard Print” Beyer are coming tonight to party like it’s their job con Kehly y yo. PREEEEETTY excited. Midgets are too much fun.
“You only live once and then it’s oooover,
And if we drink long enough, then we won’t get hung ooooover!”