I’ve excised Jar Jar from my brain. He never existed.

Because everything in her life forever will be measured by Brangelina and a 5 year marriage that tabloid writers obsess over like it was their parents divorce.

I thought that too. But wouldn’t they be locked at night? Does he dress up as a custodian to gain access to the buildings? Is this all some sort of elaborate real-life character prep for a new movie?

I like to think he just goes into random office buildings.

This raises many questions. How does one take a long elevator ride? Is he visiting the Empire State Building solely to ride the elevator, or does he just go up and down a standard elevator repeatedly?

HAH! I actually kind of had the opposite. I got on it slowly and when I was really fuzzy anyways from my hormones so I was a bit slower on the uptake than normal. I liken it to when I was so low on B12 I was basically venturing into barely functioning mentally territory (I’m normally WORDS WORDS WORDS, TALKING…

Thanks to a combination of small type and a dim screen, when I first read that I definitely thought it said “I used to suck dick for cake.” And then I was like “yeah, I understand that, cake is fucking delicious.” Also, now I want cake.

LAST TIME I EMBRACED MYSELF ON THE DANCE FLOOR I WAS ARRESTED.

I am feeling crochety and get-off-my-lawn-y about this CG Peanuts image. Do not want.

lol

Look at a pulled pork sandwich. Talk to the pig it once was.

More sense. Just look at that thing!

From Pachinko balls to Paintings. I guess Yoko is working through the “P”s. I haven’t done a single thing she suggested yet, but if she gets to “Pulled Pork” I might be in.

Sad that someone dug through the trash to find her grocery lists? Me too.

Let’s talk about the creep who rummaged through Britney’s trash and the other creep who paid 60 bucks for it.

It’s called having a “frap”.

IMPORTANT:

(GASP!) Thank you!!!! Someone texted that image to me once and I nearly bust a gut laughing, never knowing where it’s from. Oh, thank you again, this is going to kill what’s left of my Friday afternoon doldrums and pretty much make my weekend. Did I remember to say thank you?!?!

Hah! Joke’s on you. I’m so hungover I’m not even sure I have hair.