Tangents & The Times

Since Dudefriend has moved in, I’ve realized I’m becoming more and more like my mother everyday.

1. My underwear fits up around my hips, like they always showed in pictures but I was always like LOL THAT LOOKS STUPID. Haaa.
2. I’m drinking black coffee, made in my home. Like, I own a coffee pot.
3. My knee is fucked up from working out too hard.
4. I wake up at 7 every day & “pick up the house”.
5. I love Home Depot.

Really, not a joke, I can get high and wander around there for hours.
Dude, it’s like, not really but KINDA LIKE SPACE.
THERE ARE JUST SO MANY POSSIBILITIES!!!
Boggles my mind cause I’m like DAMN,
I COULD BUILD A TREE HOUSE!!!

For the record,
I definitely couldn’t build myself a tree house.
But I could buy a thirty rack
& tell Dudefriend & a pack of his pals to build me one.
That’s how I “build” just about everything.

ANNYYWAYYY,
So, I think the fact I’m turning into my mom
is a good sign that I just may be
off on the right foot
via my new career path:
housewifery.

Yeah, cause the more I think about it, the more I’m like 90% sure I just need a benefactor to pay for me to live seriously comfortable and just let me “do me”. Everyone out there is talking about how they’re “doing” them and I’m like I JUST WANT TO “DO ME” TOO! But I can’t “do me” with like, a thing like a job holding me back. Like, how am I supposed to “do me” if the most productive hours of my day are taken up by me doin’ somebody else?! By the time I can get to “doing me” I’m fucking exhausted from all the shit I have to do for other people!

But, I’m a realist and understand that in this economy, there are very few benefactors that would be willing to pay me to “do me”, especially considering most of the time I do have to “do me”, I use it to get drunk and bitch on the internet. Plus I just don’t have the time to really work on a solid business plan to approach them with at this point. Like I can’t very well go in and be like “YO, YOU’RE GONNA FUND MY WEEKENDS IN NYC & MY HOLIDAAAAZZZE IN THE TROPICS, WORD? UP TOP BROS, SEE YA ON THE BEACH.”

MISS U, DAYS OF TROPICAL CHILLIN ON OTHER PPL'S DIME.

So, my only recourse is to become a housewife.

My new goal is to be able to just “do me”, eat bon bons & clean my house/give an unprecedented number of blow jobs for the rest of my life while reaping the rewards (ie: WEEKENDS IN NYC & MY HOLIDAAAAZZZE IN THE TROPICS) of my ad-man hubby. I just feel like cleaning and blowing take up a lot less of my creative energy than a day job. And then I could reallyyy “do me” and focus on blogging, working out, tanning, finding a dealer with a steady supply of pain killers and beginning my oenology & landscape design studies.

Now just to convince Dudefriend…

[Currently Listening 2 TENNIS]