I'm Addict, I'm Addicted To You
I own approximately 65 pairs of shoes.
I know this because I counted.
I counted because I read a blog post that suggested a woman should own 5 pairs of shoes.
That 5 pairs is all she needs.
And I thought to myself, that is crazy. 5 pairs is nowhere near enough. Where do red polka-dot heels fit into this sensible 5 pair plan? Hmm? What about pink ballet flats? Round toe pumps? Peep-toe platforms? Sweater boots, and Fuggs, and all-terrain Mary Janes?
This is going nowhere. I just felt like I needed to talk about all the shoes. The shoes!!! Anyway, as part of my writing process, I was meandering around the internet catching up on advice columns and the like and I noticed that on one of my usual sites, there was a list of links to other articles. It said: Recommended For You- How To Remove Deep Ear Wax.
What? Why does the Internet think I care about that? I assure you I have never Googled ear ear wax. And certainly not from work. Gross.
So there are 2 cops loitering across the parking lot right now. Sometimes cops bring prisoners to therapy, but these cops aren't those cops. They don't have a prisoner or a prisoner transporting van. They're just hanging out in the parking lot, leaning against their car, chatting. I wonder what they're doing over there. I also wonder why The Offspring is playing on my Coldplay Pandora station. Most of you probably have no idea what any of that means, but that's okay. Suffice it to say it's not right.
Hey, I have a question. Why don't people say goodbye when they are finished talking to you on the phone? It's super irritating and super rude, I think. I never know if they're done or not. So usually I just go, "Bye", and hang up. And maybe I'm hanging up on them, because they were still going to talk more? Who knows. Whatever.
I was wrong, those cops do have a prisoner. He's really tall and he is wearing red scrubs that are too short, so I can see his ankle shackles. That's kind of mean that they made him sit in the back of the car while they chatted and enjoyed the lovely weather. But I guess now he's going to therapy, so...that's cool. Also one cop has McDonalds, in case you were wondering. The cops and prisoner are confused and they are about to come in here because they can't see the giant sign that says INSURANCE and not THERAPY FOR CRAZIES. Seriously. Giant sign. DO NOT BRING THAT PRISONER IN HERE!
Phew, they figured it out. That was close. Such drama!
I know this because I counted.
I counted because I read a blog post that suggested a woman should own 5 pairs of shoes.
That 5 pairs is all she needs.
And I thought to myself, that is crazy. 5 pairs is nowhere near enough. Where do red polka-dot heels fit into this sensible 5 pair plan? Hmm? What about pink ballet flats? Round toe pumps? Peep-toe platforms? Sweater boots, and Fuggs, and all-terrain Mary Janes?
This is going nowhere. I just felt like I needed to talk about all the shoes. The shoes!!! Anyway, as part of my writing process, I was meandering around the internet catching up on advice columns and the like and I noticed that on one of my usual sites, there was a list of links to other articles. It said: Recommended For You- How To Remove Deep Ear Wax.
What? Why does the Internet think I care about that? I assure you I have never Googled ear ear wax. And certainly not from work. Gross.
So there are 2 cops loitering across the parking lot right now. Sometimes cops bring prisoners to therapy, but these cops aren't those cops. They don't have a prisoner or a prisoner transporting van. They're just hanging out in the parking lot, leaning against their car, chatting. I wonder what they're doing over there. I also wonder why The Offspring is playing on my Coldplay Pandora station. Most of you probably have no idea what any of that means, but that's okay. Suffice it to say it's not right.
Hey, I have a question. Why don't people say goodbye when they are finished talking to you on the phone? It's super irritating and super rude, I think. I never know if they're done or not. So usually I just go, "Bye", and hang up. And maybe I'm hanging up on them, because they were still going to talk more? Who knows. Whatever.
I was wrong, those cops do have a prisoner. He's really tall and he is wearing red scrubs that are too short, so I can see his ankle shackles. That's kind of mean that they made him sit in the back of the car while they chatted and enjoyed the lovely weather. But I guess now he's going to therapy, so...that's cool. Also one cop has McDonalds, in case you were wondering. The cops and prisoner are confused and they are about to come in here because they can't see the giant sign that says INSURANCE and not THERAPY FOR CRAZIES. Seriously. Giant sign. DO NOT BRING THAT PRISONER IN HERE!
Phew, they figured it out. That was close. Such drama!
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