I ain't got shit to talk about.
That's never stopped me before though.
So it's Friday night, but I have to be up tomorrow morning for stupid o'clock which has determined this evening's line up:
1. two, count 'em TWO loads of laundry.
2. this episode of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.
3. two Heinekens.
Before you get all Josie Grossie Loser stampy on my forehead, hear me out.
1) Every bra I own is going to be ZESTfully clean. If you don't think this is awesome, I don't even care. Because it beats all of your dirty bras by like a zillion.
2) THAT EPISODE OF FRESH PRINCE IS F*CKING AMAZING. Tatyana Ali is literally dressed like Peaches Geldof (who I hate, and so should you) but it's so much better because she's Ashley Banks and it's the 90's and seriously, imagine if you got to work on that show back then? How did anyone get any acting done? I'd have craft services provided beverages spraying out of my nose reg-u-lare-ly.
3) These are to accentuate the warm fuzzy happiness of both clean bras and remarking fondly on my childhood in front of the basement rec room tv that used to be encased in an immovable wooden dresser (remember those? my friend Nick had one up until last year, it was brilliant) with fake drawer handles. They are doing their job. The beers, I mean. Beers? Beer? I hate plural rules. Plurals?
Kloveyouguysbye
Chomps
