Daisy Duke is a pirate.

If I can get through this day without having a heart attack, I'd say it's a win.

You know that rant Floyd [30 Rock] goes on about when he's drunk and he's telling Liz Lemon about deers? That is my whole life right now.

So jittery.

My last 5 thoughts

brought to you by the letter "fuck"

1. whale sex

2. spit takes

3. bosses walking loud in hallways

4. 3 ring binders = difficult

5.

Who wants to start a bracket about me getting to all my appointments today?

Or are we done with brackets?

It's almost April.

I am so excited for April Fool's day. I want to give my boss my two weeks notice on that day.

I need to locate my fake detentions from Mrs. Mauch.

Oh man, if someone reading this got that reference, I would make out with them.

Without tongue.

Because it's too hot.

It's taken me approximately 45 minutes to put 100 papers into a 3 ring binder.

This 3 ring binder looks so cozy I just want to live in it.

Forever.

Hey, that's a good idea for a movie.

Just kidding.

The woman who lived in her binder.

Better as a play.

You're right.

Here's my deer rant.

Why do men spend so much time trying to get you drunk sometimes?

Then. You see the same men later in the year, when you actually are drunk.

And they're all like. Whoa. You're drunk. Go away. I want to laugh at you. Come back.

That was the most psychedelic rant I've ever went on.

Like a field trip.

Field greens.

Damnit, Bridget's got me on this word association kick.

Kick boxing.

I have the funniest idea for a text message to send to someone right now.

But I don't want them to think I'm thinking about them. Ever.

Especially at 10:41 a.m.

I'm in love.

With sleep.

Speaking of, when the eff can I sleep today.

Before personal training? Or during?

Confused face.

I hope you guys have a lovely day.

And I hope one day to grow up.

But not now.

First I have to make 6,000,000 more fart jokes.

Then I'll be ready.

UNT.

PS. Can I use this blog as a messaging service?

Mark, call me. Billy bob, don't call me. Dick.