So there rumor's true. I'm not really that into make-up. Don't know how to apply it correctly, effectively, and little do I care. My friends and family pretty much 'take five minutes' rape me. Oh, don't know what that is? It's a phrase forced upon me more than a priest to an alter boy. "If you just take five minutes." Well, I started paying attention to ads and trying to take interest. I quickly realized, "why the hell would I want to look like a voluminous butterfly. What is a voluminous butterfly?" I'd imagine a voluminous butterfly would be quite clumsy. I bet they get eaten by clumsy unicorns. I don't know if my mind is in the right place with exhibit A or B.
Now look back at that picture and envision eyeliner that doesn't match up with any eye lines. Lipstick? Forget it. I look like some sort of assy clown. I think it's nice when people tell me I don't need make-up though I really don't believe them. It's how I say, "maybe I'll adopt one day." I don't mean it. It's just a nice thing to say.
When I walked into work this morning, one of the Africans was in the kitchen eating a baked potato. Half, plain, piping hot from the microwave and with his bare hands like something he'd just caught in the wild. I literally have nowhere to go with this, but it was on my mind.
I think a lot. Way too much, but there isn't really a thing I can do to prevent that. I'm like a reverse detective. I notice everything you shouldn't. Things like a bird nest on a street sign, but I never know what the sign says. I do always however, notice super asshole things. Please. Somebody please tell me why every time I visit a big box store(Wal-mart, Wal-mart, Wal-mart to mention a few) there are dirty diapers in the parking lot. Is this necessary? Because guess what? There's a goddamn trashcan 20 feet away next to the cart corral. What? You're too embarrassed someone might find out your baby shits and pisses itself? C'mon man! I want to find their driveways and leave water bottles full of grown human waste from long road trips and see how they like it. Perhaps this is my moment, my time to shine and get into politics. I can start DIPL (rhymes with nipple) the Diapers In Parking Lots movement. Florida'd take me. I'll leave you with that and this salty nugget for today.
A
B
Bottom line, when I wear make-up, I look like this.
Now look back at that picture and envision eyeliner that doesn't match up with any eye lines. Lipstick? Forget it. I look like some sort of assy clown. I think it's nice when people tell me I don't need make-up though I really don't believe them. It's how I say, "maybe I'll adopt one day." I don't mean it. It's just a nice thing to say.
When I walked into work this morning, one of the Africans was in the kitchen eating a baked potato. Half, plain, piping hot from the microwave and with his bare hands like something he'd just caught in the wild. I literally have nowhere to go with this, but it was on my mind.
I think a lot. Way too much, but there isn't really a thing I can do to prevent that. I'm like a reverse detective. I notice everything you shouldn't. Things like a bird nest on a street sign, but I never know what the sign says. I do always however, notice super asshole things. Please. Somebody please tell me why every time I visit a big box store(Wal-mart, Wal-mart, Wal-mart to mention a few) there are dirty diapers in the parking lot. Is this necessary? Because guess what? There's a goddamn trashcan 20 feet away next to the cart corral. What? You're too embarrassed someone might find out your baby shits and pisses itself? C'mon man! I want to find their driveways and leave water bottles full of grown human waste from long road trips and see how they like it. Perhaps this is my moment, my time to shine and get into politics. I can start DIPL (rhymes with nipple) the Diapers In Parking Lots movement. Florida'd take me. I'll leave you with that and this salty nugget for today.
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