Day 32- Legend of Spite Bitch and the Fisting Boat

Late post. 

I could tell it was going to be a magical day when I woke up and poddered down the stairs. As my eyes opened and were filled with the light of day  I discovered silently sitting- a hand crochet, pink yarn fetus in a canning jar on the kitchen table. 

Good way to start the day. Like baby salsa, just not as loud. (Because you have to use a blender..)

Can you tell this is going to be just a simply splendid update? 

My roommate has a certain proclivity for crocheting, pinterest and etsy. 

So after eating my instant strawberry oatmeal in the company of a simple companion, I ventured of to have my ultrasound done. 10 minutes of prodding later I was free to reminisce about the good old days, when ladies at least got taken out to dinner first.

I then did laundry for my aunt while watching terrible TV programming. 

If it helps when you’re reading this, imagine me watching “Archer” simultaneously. That’s exactly what I’m doing. 

It was also my last day at my old job, so now I am down to one. It was rather anti-climactic. My favorite coworkers where gone, and the one that was there was not paying attention to my need for glorious chicken-bombing and was instead, wrapped up in his trivial affairs of love, breaking up a fist fight and desperately obtaining oxygen, which I assume is difficult for him, as he is 6’7″. 

Air gets thin up there, yo’. 

Today is also apparently, bad joke day. 

On a completely different note, I was having second thoughts about quitting until one of my coworkers asked me if he had seen me earlier that day in a fantastic, hot, tight green dress. I said no, because obviously I don’t wear color, but he lamented the loss of that vision and said that I should invest in one.

Sexual harassment is just a perk of the job! 

Anyway, after I got off a few of my friends and I got together and celebrated with Long Island Ice Teas at Applebee’s. We talked nostalgically about the 90’s and how “X gonna give it to you,” which somehow turned into a conversation about the fisting. I’m not sure how, I missed the boat. The fisting boat.

I bet my parents are wondering where their parenting went awry. You can’t take me anywhere.

I also have a cute nickname now, which is Spite Bitch, which primarily motivated the title for this entry.

I hate everyone, so it kind fits. y’know?

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