- I have exceptionally pointy elbows which requires extra elbow skin – also known as wenis or weenis acuminous. It’s gross.
- I tripped in the lunch room today and hit my head on the fridge. People noticed.
- I’ve gone to the emergency room for a stubbed toe. I was told that I didn’t need to come to the emergency room.
- I wrote a letter to Kraft Foods expressing my interest in a pesto flavored string cheese and suggested that for my thought leadership, I should be compensated with endless amounts of cheese. They said no.
- My hands are always really cold. FYI when you go to the doctor to get your hands checked out for coldness – they just diagnose you with cold hands. Nothing further.
- Recently, I was cyber-bullied. That shit hurts.
- I’ve realized that emojis cover the three most important emotions.
“…. I’m really drunk.”
“Don’t fuck with me right now.”
“Shall we order take out?”
- If and when I have a hankering for a Chipotle burrito – I will have a Chipotle burrito. That shit comes on fast and strong.
- I hate when people insist on getting up on the bus before their stop. Do you know how much easier this would be if we could just do this when the bus isn’t violently moving? And yes, I take the bus.
- When I was younger I only drew flamingos – tons and tons of flamingos. My parents as flamingos, me as a kid flamingo, teacher flamingos, etc. Kind of like the kid in Superbad but flamingos.
Can we talk more about that elephant who paints elephants? I mean COME ON.
I’ve been hit in the head with 6 acorns in one day. Does that happen to anyone else ever?
Can you make butter out of anything?
Where is Ja Rule? And do we care?
Did you know that there are a bunch of websites dedicated to squirrels partying?Just them…. partying….
Where were labradoodles 5 years ago?
There’s a man among us. A man who’s name is Douchebag McCloud. He reeks an ungodly douche scent – a pungent waft of preppy-annoying. He will be sure to trip you when you’re down, pee on you when you’re sleeping, and mock you when you’re poor… and he works in my building.
I can only suspect such douchebaggery works on the second floor – by far the douchiest floor. Second floorers insist on taking the elevator regardless of them being located just one floor up. Almost as bad as the Bloomberg employees from the top floor penthouse, who in the elevator will talk of their free lunches, causal dress code, and peanut butter making machine. Fook you and your indulgent workplace – nobody wants to make their own peanut butter.
I despise the second floor douches slightly more than the Bloomberg boobs. Mainly because these lazy wombats force me to spend 7% of my life riding the elevator. And between floors 1 & 2. Stopping on 2, stopping on 1, up & down, up & down.
Anyways, our douchebag extraordinaire is a second-floorer who you can spot with half-an-eye. He’s always wearing polished penny loafers, pennies included, paired with some obnoxiously pastel outfit and a Louis Vuitton briefcase dangling over his right shoulder while speaking insanely loud in our already echoing lobby. A few of my favs went like this:
(chatting with the bro-group) “And then I was like….what budget?” “Am I right?” Ahahhahahaha
(on the phone) “I took care of it Mr. LeaMond, I told him he was fired. F-I-R-E-D. Fired.”
“No pain in that gain – am I right fellas??” (deals out some high-fivers.)
“Wife made me lunch again today – guess where that’s going? T-R-A-S-H. Trash. Zing!”
“Hold up bros – I should probably grab my Burberry mittens – it looks chili con carne out there.”
“Eww guys…homeless people are so stinky.”
Walks by your elevator and wide steps his legs while putting both hands in gun shape and positions them towards you while the doors close, shoots them and then blows them out… “Now that is one good looking elevator…Keep up the good work ladies.”
The ‘guns up, good looking elevator’ scenario happens like once a week. I’m not sure what the motivation is – but I can only blame it on him being douchebag which makes him feel like this is something he needs to do repeatedly. We’ve already seen this – it was kind of funny in a harrassy way the first time – now, that’s enough.
I just want to go straight up to my floor without stopping on two and without a sexualized pantomime gun show. Is that so much to ask?
Now, to the epic douchebag reel –
Whatever, Scott Disick is the man.
I had a dream last night that I had to help a mother duck that also happened to be burn victim who was completely blind — to guide all of her ducklings through a busy town and safely to a pond which seemed some 64 miles away.
I mean…..what the fuck is that about?