Well, I had the LASIK consultation. I busted in, took out my contacts, and stumbled around trying not to run screaming out of there while they probed me and scared the living tits out of me (a difficult feat, being as I have none) by telling me all the gory details about the surgery. Then they showed me a video. Cuz you know, nothing makes you want to sign up to have your eyes sliced open than a graphic documentary of someone else’s gooey, sick, gelatinous cornea being zapped.
I sat there in a tightly coiled ball, ready to spring from the chair, straight out the window until I met The Coolest Nurse EvAR who totally talked me off the ledge. She told me about how I would feel during the procedure, which is what I needed to know, because the hideous part for me is not the minimal chance of a complication, but having my eyelids propped open with like, toothpicks and staying conscious while bitches are cutting on my eyes.
Anyway, she helped me picture what how it was gonna go down, and kindly informed me that I would be given a Valium. From what I hear, after I pop that bad boy, I won’t give a flying shit through a rolling doughnut about what they do to my eyeballs. Whee!
Hooray for Elective Surgery!
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My eyeballs are ruining my life. I'm so tired of dicking around with correcting my shitty vision. I've worn glasses since I was in 2nd grade and contacts since I was in 6th. I think I deserve a fricking break here.
The catalyst was taking my glasses to the eye docta to have them bent back into shape after a drunken smashing accident, and of course, the minute I got home and put them on, they snapped right in fucking half. (Um, and what's up with things exploding upon my person as soon as I try to wear them? I'm secretly concerned that it could be my hawtness that causes items that would normally cover my beauteous features to burst…)
I don't know. Maybe this is my sign to throw my nuts onto the table and go get LASIK. I'm just scared because while contacts suck more balls than Sienna Miller, they sure beat being completely blind or having gross halos everywhere. And plus, there is still the whole apocalypse thing. When that shit goes down, I'm hosed and essentially blind. Even in the short-term, if someone broke into my house to mutilate me, I couldn't see to kill them in the face/run away. And I guess if I did go completely blind, it wouldn't be all bad 'cuz I could just drape myself in velvet and not give a shit.
What do you think?
The catalyst was taking my glasses to the eye docta to have them bent back into shape after a drunken smashing accident, and of course, the minute I got home and put them on, they snapped right in fucking half. (Um, and what's up with things exploding upon my person as soon as I try to wear them? I'm secretly concerned that it could be my hawtness that causes items that would normally cover my beauteous features to burst…)
I don't know. Maybe this is my sign to throw my nuts onto the table and go get LASIK. I'm just scared because while contacts suck more balls than Sienna Miller, they sure beat being completely blind or having gross halos everywhere. And plus, there is still the whole apocalypse thing. When that shit goes down, I'm hosed and essentially blind. Even in the short-term, if someone broke into my house to mutilate me, I couldn't see to kill them in the face/run away. And I guess if I did go completely blind, it wouldn't be all bad 'cuz I could just drape myself in velvet and not give a shit.
What do you think?
When the Annihilatrix Booshes the World
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I have recently found myself thinking about the apocalypse…with eager glee. Like, wouldn't it be great for humanity to be thinned out a little? Just the idiots who rape babies, act like ignorant dickholes in movie theaters, and otherwise fail to function in civilized society. I blame Max Brooks for my current obsession with this subject, but I also terrorist fist bump him for bringing it up because it's always good to be prepared, right?
Prior to the day of reckoning (provided that the planet is still inhabitable etc. etc.), I've decided that I need to get the following shit together:
1.) Learn how to use a gun without accidentally killing Dan in the face
2.) Learn to make my own beer
3.) Get a cat carrier like the ones you strap to your chest and put babies in (cuz NO, I'm not leaving Burtie behind)
4.) Get Lasik, or else like I'm really toast
5.) Learn to make/collect clean water
6.) Memorize the local terrain so I can get to safety (i.e. Ronald and DaNelle's cuz you know those bitches will pwn Judgment Day, then produce beautiful spawn which will lead collective humanity back to some semblance of order someday)
7.) Get a serious survival kit
8.) Cultivate a useful trade for post-apocalyptic society, cuz while I am indeed a brilliant tech writer, I don't foresee the need for software manuals so much as like food and shelter
What kinds of end-of-the-world-trade are you hos going to pursue?
Prior to the day of reckoning (provided that the planet is still inhabitable etc. etc.), I've decided that I need to get the following shit together:
1.) Learn how to use a gun without accidentally killing Dan in the face
2.) Learn to make my own beer
3.) Get a cat carrier like the ones you strap to your chest and put babies in (cuz NO, I'm not leaving Burtie behind)
4.) Get Lasik, or else like I'm really toast
5.) Learn to make/collect clean water
6.) Memorize the local terrain so I can get to safety (i.e. Ronald and DaNelle's cuz you know those bitches will pwn Judgment Day, then produce beautiful spawn which will lead collective humanity back to some semblance of order someday)
7.) Get a serious survival kit
8.) Cultivate a useful trade for post-apocalyptic society, cuz while I am indeed a brilliant tech writer, I don't foresee the need for software manuals so much as like food and shelter
What kinds of end-of-the-world-trade are you hos going to pursue?
Letters of Angst: Part Murder Was the Cayse That They Gayve Me
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Dear Lurkey Co-workers,
Why? Why you gotta camp RIGHT outside the World’s Best Shittin’ Bathroom to eat your lunch? Then stare at me like I had just crapped out your whole family when I give up trying to wait you out like 20 min later? Dude, it’s hard enough for me to poo in public without you chatting right outside the goddamn door at Organ of Corti-shattering volumes, but then you make me do the walk of shit shame and you don’t even bother to act like you’re not horrified. Don’t you know it’s common courtesy to pretend like you don’t KNOW what was going on in there? God.
Disgruntles viscera,
Summie
Dear You Tube D-Bags,
You grossly underestimate how much I DO NOT want to hear you sing along with any given song. Like, what do you think is gonna happen from this? That Beck will be Googling himself and see your stupid gay video that you made of yourself sitting at your computer and shrieking “Debra” and think, dang. That girl is amazing. I should bone her? Or maybe you think someone will see it and think you’re amazing and want to bone you as you sign a record deal? Gross! Gross, gross, gross! Like, be productive and go do Karaoke! Or kill yourself! Just stop that stupid shit.
Disdainfully,
Summie
Dear Beast Master,
You pussy. Seriously. One time, the other cat Piper accidentally got shut in a closet for four days and did she piss herself? No. I got home from the trip, heard her yowl, let her out and she furiously bee-lined it for the litter box. But you. YOU. You wander your skinny ass into the closet and get locked in for four HOURS and piss on EVERYTHING in site. Like, dude, I had no idea you could hold that kind of volume in your tiny mass. So I kind of hate you right now and am so tired of drowning in a sea of cat urine that I’m about to skin all of you bitches and wear you as adorable hats/earmuffs.
Febreeze,
Mommy
Why? Why you gotta camp RIGHT outside the World’s Best Shittin’ Bathroom to eat your lunch? Then stare at me like I had just crapped out your whole family when I give up trying to wait you out like 20 min later? Dude, it’s hard enough for me to poo in public without you chatting right outside the goddamn door at Organ of Corti-shattering volumes, but then you make me do the walk of shit shame and you don’t even bother to act like you’re not horrified. Don’t you know it’s common courtesy to pretend like you don’t KNOW what was going on in there? God.
Disgruntles viscera,
Summie
Dear You Tube D-Bags,
You grossly underestimate how much I DO NOT want to hear you sing along with any given song. Like, what do you think is gonna happen from this? That Beck will be Googling himself and see your stupid gay video that you made of yourself sitting at your computer and shrieking “Debra” and think, dang. That girl is amazing. I should bone her? Or maybe you think someone will see it and think you’re amazing and want to bone you as you sign a record deal? Gross! Gross, gross, gross! Like, be productive and go do Karaoke! Or kill yourself! Just stop that stupid shit.
Disdainfully,
Summie
Dear Beast Master,
You pussy. Seriously. One time, the other cat Piper accidentally got shut in a closet for four days and did she piss herself? No. I got home from the trip, heard her yowl, let her out and she furiously bee-lined it for the litter box. But you. YOU. You wander your skinny ass into the closet and get locked in for four HOURS and piss on EVERYTHING in site. Like, dude, I had no idea you could hold that kind of volume in your tiny mass. So I kind of hate you right now and am so tired of drowning in a sea of cat urine that I’m about to skin all of you bitches and wear you as adorable hats/earmuffs.
Febreeze,
Mommy
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