There, there. It’s fucking okay. I’ll just hit refresh.
Filed under: Jesus Christ, eating food, gross, mental, what a dick, working
Some fuckin’ people, am I right?
Anyway, GROSS ALERT I went to the doctor because apparently I have a stye. So I asked him if it was an eye tumor, because at virtually every doctor visit I inquire about something that I think is probably a tumor. He is of Indian descent, and a very good doctor, but when I asked if he was sure it was not a tumor, he was like “LOL, It’s nott a tuh-moh!” a la Arnold. Then I was like HAHHAAHA cause that one never gets old for me, and he was like 
.
Anyway twat sprinkles, what kind of plants/animals/children did you guyz have for breakfast/lunch? I had a sandwich and a xanax, because Monday Meetings can suck my dick.
Dear Tony: I have a few questions. My D.O.B. is 3-19-63. Have I lived before? Was I a wicked person in my past life? Is that why everything is upside down now? — Nina A.
Dear Nina: Yes and no. — Tony Leggett
HHAAHAHAHA. Give this man some more money. He is the best at psychic healing. Nobody does it better, makes me feel sad for the rest.
When she does the whole, “Just sit back, and relax, and let us get you informed here, that’s our job, ok?”
I get a little warm inside.
Oh yeah, and titty slip:
1) Any form of WIN in the Passive-Aggressive Games of the Monday 330 meeting
2) Mother stopping by to get all in my kool-aid and fuck shit up [Currently In Progess]
3) Anything Balls-to-the-Wall
4) Stevie Nicks calling Lindsay Lohan’s kettle black? Luv Steve, but hasn’t she done enough cocaine to safely say that she has done a SHIT LOAD of cocaine?
Filed under: Jesus Christ, Pro-tips, old people, scotch, what a dick, working
Fuck most of them. Fuck them right in the face. Don’t even worry about it.
JK’s! What a shit day I’ve had, and now I’m just full of BEANS. For starters, I almost leapt across a desk today to non-lovingly smack someone in the face. Then I actually said this:
“If I am made to do that, I will end up walking out. Again.”
Great job, Self-from-Earlier-Today! “How to Win Friends and Influence People”, yeah, I wrote that book.
Oh well. At least I didn’t fart.
There is no cure for embarrassment. Only avoidance. Or alcohol.
The single most embarrassing event I can think of? Passing a pouf in public. Cutting the cheese in Calcutta. The two worst-possible-evar-scenarios:
1) Audibly breaking wind in a group, and it very obviously came from YOU
2) Silently dropping a gnarly egg-bomb, and it’s just you and one other
Clearly, there are two options:
1) Acknowledge it: Make a joke, gracefully apologize, say “Whoops!” and quickly change the subject
2) DO NOT ACKNOWLEDGE
I really don’t know what’s best. I think dying is pretty much the only feasible option.
When is the last/worst time this happened to you? OR ARE YOU NOT GOING TO SAY ANYTHING. You can change your name if you want. I’ll wait at least a week before I out you. :D I know the heaviness of the situation; it’s even worse than when my woman’s blood spotted on the butt of my jeans in junior high.
EDIT: Pussy farts are now included, since overnight you commenters have grown a modesty gene or something (blaming it on Queen Mother, Rev. Twatkin?)
