I just completed a two hour cleaning marathon that would put your average house-maid to shame. Our kitchen had begun to smell of orangutan again, and I had resorted to eating off books and paper towels due to the lack of dishware. Took care of that, four trash bags and a new mop head later. My hands are ungodly wrinkly.
Now that I feel safer in my own living space since I no longer fear the living cess pool we called our “sink,” I’m much happier. To add to the array of joy I’m feeling, my clogs have been found and I also located my keys. THIS IS GREAT! I honestly need to attach a cinder block with glowing paint and blinking Christmas lights to my keychain so that I don’t lose it. This is unbelieveable. Now all I need is a new UID, but that’s peanuts.
I’m mere hours from heading back to sweet sweet Council Bluffs. Unfortunately it won’t be as much of a vacation as I’d like, seeing as I’ll be enslaved at T of J (Taco John’s, retards) every day except Thanksgiving of course. I’m going to be eating so much. Dear lord. Although all the aspects of this fall “vaca” sound promising, I recently ran into a bit of an obstacle. What am I going to do with Kehly (..my goldfish of 3 months)?
The fish-in-bag tactic sounds like the most logical idea, however I’m not sure a fish can last four hours in a sack. I guess we’ll find out. Otherwise, Kehly will be joining Lil Nig (R.I.P.) in fish heaven.
Hopefully she just lives. She’s been through worse. For example, James “I’m a fag and I owe sixteen people new marker boards and 17 loaves of bread plus deli meat” Kowalski attempted to microwave her once. She made it out like a true aquatic soldier would.
Tomas: “Yeah, after my test I’m gonna go to the bars and get FUCKED up!”
Dad: “Tomas, you aren’t old enough.”
Tomas: “Dad, I’m 23.”