tramp tales
I don't know if you guys have heard - but apparently whores now need to look like they've been bathing in Cheetos their whole lives. I say this because after recently coming back from the US where I got to watch some seriously awesome reality TV shows, I realised that all the whores I love to hate all look like Mr. Drum (from the Mr. Men series, see below)
I understand the need for the orange complexion about as much as I understand the need for a rectum on your elbow (I do not understand it at all).
Cheeto face is what is wrong with the world, probably. Wait, no, the make-up that is most likely just Nutella which is meant to emulate Cheeto face is worse.
I understand the need for the orange complexion about as much as I understand the need for a rectum on your elbow (I do not understand it at all).
Cheeto face is what is wrong with the world, probably. Wait, no, the make-up that is most likely just Nutella which is meant to emulate Cheeto face is worse.
the blackout
Before I figured out how to bypass the blackout on Wikipedia, yesterday was interesting. I had to do a load of research on Nicaragua's current economic climate. My go-to starting point for my research tends to be Wikipedia, not necessarily for the content but for the article references. But I was Wikipedialessness for a while there and I was terrified for my life. And then I started thinking - well what if Google went down?...INSTANT SHITSTORM, is what.
On another note, apparently, I do not require to be sexed any longer as the government is currently fucking my brains out. I mean, okay - taxes, screw with healthcare, invent vegetables, make me jump through hoops to get an education - FINE, I can deal. But how DARE YOU mess with my internet!
The unhelpful laws SOPA and PIPA would ultimately take down this site, so government - thanks for nothing, stupid!
(incidentally, I tried to black out with my sack out yesterday, but I could not figure out how to do it without deleting my blourg entirely.)
the flu reporting for duty
And I am mute. I do not like to sound like hoarse Marge Simpson, I do not. I mean c'mon immune system! Quit being a little bitch making me wait for you to do your job - get it together!
And I cough. Oh how I cough. And when I do so in public, everybody stares me down like I've just eaten a baby's face.
I need a blanket for my insides.
And I look like I belong on nightmare before Christmas. If boys make direct eye contact with me, their penis may actually turn to stone.
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