Oh whoa. someone just kicked in our door again. WHOA. emergency carpenter is on his way. Again, really really sucks to be that guy. Atleast I get to meet him this time. Perhaps I should ask him how he got into this wonderful profession. Maybe he'll be a hottie and sweep me off my feet and whisk me off to woodland where carpenters flourish (no pun/innuendo intended). Just like my new hottie, Hugh Dancy. Can you say mmm mmm good. Also, my awesome neighbors are playing weird ukelele music, which my roommate says is actually "Beruit good music." Whatever the balls that means. Now they're playing the Allman Brothers. Such weird music choices for 1:30am on a Saturday night...or Sunday morning I suppose. I just really love all the characters that I share an education with. Oh did you know that our perpetrators were wearing tuxedos? Classy bitches. In the most literal sense. Kinda like the tuxedo that my lover (Hugh Dancy if you haven't figured that out by now) was wearing in Confessions of a Shopaholic, which I watched this evening before all this grand excitement. It's a great movie, contrary to what your movie instincts are telling you. I mean there's a mega hottie in it, and he wears great clothes. And bam. Blockbuster success by my standards--which are sky high, btdubz. You know what isn't such a great thing to watch? The recording of my Brahms concert. I got through about 2 minutes before I had to shut it off. And part of that two minutes I had to leave the room to put sweatpants on because I couldn't bear listening to myself tune. Perhaps I have a problem? I wouldn't say it's low self esteem as much as it is hating watch my arms shake when I vibrate (again, don't take that sexually). Don't worry, I'll be able to watch it all the way through in a year...or 5. Maybe I'll let my kids watch it. I'll say, "look young Skogan, that was mommy when she didn't have the money to look like the trophy wife that she is now because she married your daddy. Also, I'm way way more talented now, like, DUH." Trophy wives have to sound dumb, duh. Just kidding. I'm not actually going to marry up, like I make people believe, unless of course Dan becomes some sort of -illionare. But my son will be named Skogan--or daughter. Please, it's a great name. Don't even try to deny it, gypsy. I picked that up from Rainer. He calls me gypsy atleast 3x a day. But it's ok because Esmeralda from the Hunchback of Notre Dame was a gypsy, and she was an animated hottie; therefore, I'm a hottie that everyone loves. That's why I'm dating Hugh Dancy. Did I mention he's British? It just keeps getting better huh? Well I'm a little tired of waiting for this dang carpenter, and honestly I'm too tired to interrogate him on his life choices. I mean, he could be a hottie, and I could be missing out, but my beauty sleep is just too valuable. Goodnight love bugs.
No comments:
Post a Comment