Parades and PMS

You know those big balloon thingies they have in the parades? The ones of characters like Snooper or Wonder Dog or Spiderman? They're all rounded and kind of glide around bumping off of random puffs of air like a giant weeble wobbles in the sky. That's how I feel right now. I feel like I am putting on my own little Thanksgiving Day Parade everytime I walk by someone's cubicle. I'm so stinking bloated. It's all part of my uterus's master plan to not only kill me, but convince me to take down others in the process. I have my Air-Zooka on stand-by for just that reason.

And my goldfish are burnt. My Pepperidge Farm Goldfish Baked Snack Crackers FLAVOR BLASTED with Hot'n Spicy Cheddar. Burnt. Bitches. Don't think that in my current mental state (being controlled by the Uterine Overlord and all) I'm not writing a nasty letter to Pepperidge Farm right now. Screw up my lunch will they....


Anonymous said…
I needed a good laugh! Sorry it was at the expense of you being held hostage by the Uterine Overlord.

And stupid burnt goldfish. They were blasted with too much flavor. Might as well get a real fish and watch it die. Same feeling I think.

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