It's About Time
You know what's weird? Robbing banks. How do you think that goes down? Does the robber just wake up one morning and think 'Hmm, I'm a little broke today, I think I'll grab breakfast and then rob a bank.'? It's not like these are grand old-timey bank robbery shootout master planned events. This is like a dude in a beanie rolling up to the teller with a duffel bag, asking for the money, and getting it. It doesn't seem like that would take much planning. And then what does he do once he gets the money? Just take it home and count it? Play presidential flashcards? It all seems just a little too...easy. Gah. Maybe I should rob banks? Nah, probably not. I look stupid in most hats anyway and I'd have massive guilt over anything I ended up buying with stolen funds and then I couldn't even enjoy it, and what's the point of having new things if you can't enjoy them? Very strange, this bank robbing business.Warren Buffett would not approve.
Guys, a sad thing has occurred. The sad thing is that my most favorite tall black boots...OK, also my only tall black boots, have somehow gotten a hole in them. And I fear that they're not really worth repairing, even though they are lovely and perfect and go with everything and make me look like a sexy vixen or a stylish professional lady, depending on how I wear them. They have a perfect toe- not round, not pointy- and a perfect heel- not stiletto, not chunky. They may be irreplaceable. So I am in great distress over this. I have spent many minutes this morning online shopping for something comparable and so far nothing has been found. It's a sad day, friends, a sad, sad day.
Only kidding, I'm really not so materialistic that I've gone into mourning over these boots. I fully intend to duct-tape those suckers up and keep right on wearing them. But it is lame that they have a hole. For sure.
Too bad this blog doesn't have more pictures, eh? I bet that would make it more interesting for you all. Especially for the people from Poland who keep coming here looking for monkeys playing instruments. Yeah, that's right, Poles. I have stats. I can see you. And I think it's really strange, this national obsession you seem to have with monkey orchestras. It's not normal. I'm watching you, and that's all I'll say about that.
I think you can see from all this that the real issue is that my life lacks purpose. So I am in search of a purpose and when I find it maybe my blog will be a little more interesting and a little less "Al Gore did not invent the internet so that you could fill it up with this drivel." Amen.
Oh, and it's Topsy Turvy Day, which you'd know if you'd ever watched the Hunchback of Notre Dame, because there's a whole song about it, and the song includes the words "Scurvy knaves" which would be a great name for a band, and is also a good insult to hurl. You scurvy knaves.
Guys, a sad thing has occurred. The sad thing is that my most favorite tall black boots...OK, also my only tall black boots, have somehow gotten a hole in them. And I fear that they're not really worth repairing, even though they are lovely and perfect and go with everything and make me look like a sexy vixen or a stylish professional lady, depending on how I wear them. They have a perfect toe- not round, not pointy- and a perfect heel- not stiletto, not chunky. They may be irreplaceable. So I am in great distress over this. I have spent many minutes this morning online shopping for something comparable and so far nothing has been found. It's a sad day, friends, a sad, sad day.
Only kidding, I'm really not so materialistic that I've gone into mourning over these boots. I fully intend to duct-tape those suckers up and keep right on wearing them. But it is lame that they have a hole. For sure.
Too bad this blog doesn't have more pictures, eh? I bet that would make it more interesting for you all. Especially for the people from Poland who keep coming here looking for monkeys playing instruments. Yeah, that's right, Poles. I have stats. I can see you. And I think it's really strange, this national obsession you seem to have with monkey orchestras. It's not normal. I'm watching you, and that's all I'll say about that.
I think you can see from all this that the real issue is that my life lacks purpose. So I am in search of a purpose and when I find it maybe my blog will be a little more interesting and a little less "Al Gore did not invent the internet so that you could fill it up with this drivel." Amen.
Oh, and it's Topsy Turvy Day, which you'd know if you'd ever watched the Hunchback of Notre Dame, because there's a whole song about it, and the song includes the words "Scurvy knaves" which would be a great name for a band, and is also a good insult to hurl. You scurvy knaves.
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