Panic Room.

22 Feb

Here’s the deal, Forever 21: You cause me greater anxiety than the most crowded elevator in China. I don’t like to go into a store and feel like I need a Garmin and an oxygen mask just to make it to the dressing room and back. Seriously, the clothes and the prices? Right where I like them to be. The disarray of the cluttered, messy store? Gives me a heart attack. I don’t necessarily enjoy having a panic attack upon entering a store. I just don’t. Rummaging through the piles of clothes in Forever 21 is like hacking your way through a Brazilian jungle. A machete is required. And a lot of upper arm strength. I think even Xena: Warrior Princess would have trouble making her way through this store. Shopping in Forever 21 is a day long event that you have to plan for. You need to get a lot of things in order: time (at least 6 to 8 hours), adequate sleep, cardio 4-5 times a week for six weeks prior, strategy, and carb loading. If you’re not really prepared to take on the feat before entering the store, you’re as good as dead.

So the next thing I was planning on writing about was my hatred for Lady Gaga. For inspiration, I decided to Google an unflattering photo of her. As I typed the letters “L-a-d-y G-a-” immediately, the first search term that came up before I was even able to finish her name was “Lady Gaga hermaphrodite.” So let’s just start there.

Jessica Biel is hot. Alba, smoking hot. Megan Fox: hot. Lady Gaga? Herm. No doubt about it. Has anyone seen her “inspirational” speech advocating gay rights and marriage on C-Span? Wow. I’m sorry, Mr. Gaga, but you’re not Martin Luther King, Jr. The only thing you two have in common is that you’re men. That’s it. Just because you seem to know a lot about poker faces, dancing, and the paparazzi, doesn’t mean you know anything about public speaking, so why don’t you stick to what you know how to do best: having a penis. Your poker face might be effective in hiding white lies, but not for hiding the dick you have in your pants. Why don’t you go ahead and schedule an appointment at the vet and get your stick and berries taken care of.

Lady Gaga reminds me of a toy I used to own as a child called the “Shampoodle.” Not sure why. It was a poodle with a long neck that dispensed shampoo. It was cute for a bath toy; not for a human being.

Why can you say, “THEY’RE not for sale” when referring to pants, but you can only say, “IT’S not for sale,” when referring to a shirt? What makes pants….plural? What makes one set of pants a “they?” Why are they a “pair?” Is it because the legs extend into two parts? If that is the case, then sweatshirts should fall into the same category, seeing as the sleeves do the same. I am perplexed.

If I were ever in a situation where I would need a weapon as a defense mechanism, I would choose a cheese grater. No doubt about it. Baseball bats, hammers, golf clubs, axes–those are all fine, but nothing would suck more than getting whacked in the face with a sharp piece of kitchen equipment and having your forehead shredded like a big block of parmesan. Unfortunately, tucking a stainless steel cheese grater in your purse is a lot more conspicuous than hiding a little bottle of pepper spray, but luckily for me, huge purses are in this year.

Well kiddies, time for me to go feast on my second Thanksgiving smorgasbord for the week. I am so excited. I am going to consume a bathtub full of gravy and enough sweet potatoes to realistically feed an entire small nation. For some reason, people in this country think it’s appropriate to make a tiny little boat of gravy totaling to like 2 1/2 cups. Here’s the problem, folks–I use 2 1/2 cups to myself, and that’s just on my mashed potatoes. When my family makes gravy, we make an enormous cauldron of it, like enough to fill a jacuzzi with. That’s the only way to do it. Get with the program.

Someone roll in a gurney; I’m going to need to go to the hospital by the time dessert rolls around. Go ahead and have them preset the temperature in the room to a comfortable 71 degrees ahead of time for me. Thanks.

“I just called and canceled a dentist appointment I had for tomorrow so that I would have more money for the bars.”
-Jeremy Clouse


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