Meso Old!

Why is it that every time someone gets engaged I kind of want to barf in their mouth a little? Most of it is the expectant look people give you after their announcement, like they’re waiting for you to justify your own engagement status. Part of it, even after all this time, is just the weirdness of someone getting MARRIED. Especially when it’s someone you used to get so drunk with that you once physically restrained them from beating some bitch over the head with a phone. Ahh, memories!

Embarrassingly not that long ago, I would run away from married people like they had Ebola because I totally thought they underwent a marriage metamorphosis where they suddenly sucked balls and blew you off for hubby all the time. It took my best friend from college getting hitched for me to realize that you’re still YOU when you get married. But that’s a revelation of an extremely stupid and slutty single person, if that tell you anything.

These days, I’m just excited that some of my married bitches are having adorable babies for me to play with, then promptly hand back when they give me a Hot Carl. Whoot!

Caffeine Conspiracy

Dood I swear the waiter dumped a 5 Hour Energy drink or three in my pop at lunch because I’m about to blast off here from the caffeine. I’m like full on chair dancing at my desk to Pitbull. Maybe vibrating in my chair is a more accurate description of what nastiness is going on up in here.

Shit, bitch, I don’t even know where I was going with this except that I’ve clearly had an accidental overdose and need to flee across the street to the titty bar and make some cash doing this then get some fricking ice cream. You know, because the pervy ice cream truck driver pulls up every day, twice a day, to the aptly named Bazooka’s back door *insert juvenile snicker here* and the strippers run out to buy popsicles. And I do mean run. They don’t just walk out like normal humans and get a fucking ice cream; they hop-run in slow motion in their little outfits and ankle-breaking heels and teeter around handing money to the dude. I know this because watch it take place from my fatty window cube which overlooks the back of their building.

Downtown pwns!

OWW WEE Baby, You Make Me Wanna Walk Like a...

Despite my revulsion for the toe variety, I actually love camels. A lot. They are the cutest, smiliest, eyelashiest things you can ride around on through the desert. This is something I really want to do, actually. I am foaming at the mouth to go on a camel safari in Egypt, and yes I am just as excited about trotting around on a belching, spitting, adorable fluffy critter as I am to see Giza. I mean, come on:



The only reason I haven’t done this yet is because the safety section of the U.S. Department of State page is bigger than Lindsay Lohan’s freakish labes. In fact, I don’t know which would be more dangerous: moseying into a terrorist mud pit or banging LiLo. Yeesh. It doesn’t exactly say not to go, but it does kinda say to be effing careful as hell.

Whatever, I guess what I want to know is, do you think it’s cool to go to Cairo, or should I wait out the drama? I mean, Dan is six and a half feet tall and I’m fricking blonde city, so we won’t exactly blend in. I’m worried either way that I’m gonna miss out, which is NOT an option. Do you think shit will get better or worse if I wait? Or should I just say fuck it and not subscribe to terrorism and go anyway?

God DAMN it, I hate terrorists.

SNTYAL

Word, bitches. So I did it. I finally got LASIK. And you know what? It sucked major cornhole. It was scary, hideous, and totally shatastic. The only reason I’m so crabby about it is that I asked a solid 20 people about their LASIK surgery, and they all said the same damn thing:

“Omg, it was SO awesome! It was over in like 4 seconds and I could see everything clearly when I sat up! I could even read my alarm clock for the first time in years. Also, my sex life is better than yours, and my hairstyle makes yours look like rat shit on a plate!”
Right, so thus I’m here to tell you what it’s really like in a brief piece called…
Shit that Nobody Tells You About LASIK:

1. It hurts like a mofo.
Yeah, yeah, they give you a Valium, and yeah they drop shit in your eyes to numb them, but first, they use some instrument to pressurize your fucking eye. YES. And it HURTS. And your vision fades to black. Then, panic ensues. It was at this point in which I completely wigged out and tried to run away. They held me down though, so at least I got it finished.

2. Everyone can watch your procedure.
Uh huh. Like when you shriek and thrash and attempt to flee, your mom is standing out there trying to take video of it and laughing.

3. You totally can’t see for like, evAR.
I’m not bitching tooooo much because I went from 20/800 to 20/40, but as far as being miraculously able to see everything right away? Not so much. I’m still farsighted at the moment, which makes working at a computer all day oodles of fun. It’s better every day and supposedly will continue to imporve, but still wicked on the headache factor.

I hope you enjoyed this edition of Shit that Nobody Tells You About LASIK. Stay tuned as I heal up and find out more exciting heinousness.