- What? You’re surprised I’m doing my own taxes? Why? I’m pretty awesome. I thought we’d already covered that…
- Why can’t Mr. Kim Kardashian just go away already? Seriously. Why is he still talking? How is he still relevant? I’m pretty sure we’ve already come to terms with the fact that any time he opens his mouth some dumb assery of colossal proportions is just going to come spewing forth. So… why are we still giving him a platform and microphone?!
- Mmm… COFFEE.
- Beck won a Grammy? I don’t even care about the Grammys, but that’s just impressive, because apparently we’ve all been transported back to the year 1994.
- While browsing BuzzFeed I stumbled across a video of Prince Harry throwing a football. And then everyone “oohed” and applauded. It was so embarrassing. I had to quickly leave the site. Just because a British kid can throw an American football people feel the need to applaud? I would die if I had people fawning all over me for insipid and stupid reasons. Being well-known must be exponentially awkward. (Unless you’re Mr. Kim Kardashian… and then it’s just awesome.)
- In case you missed it on Twitter, this chart is further confirmation that there is nothing wrong with my creative process, and everything is going along swimmingly.
- Remember that side mirror that just randomly “fell” off my car? Well, apparently the body shop ordered the wrong replacement mirror and now I have a non-electric side mirror on my car which I have to adjust manually. They didn’t charge me for it and they said they’d order a new one, but that was 2+ weeks ago and I still haven’t heard from them. I should probably call them, but considering my aversion to using the phone, and my thought that I should just keep the dumb mirror and throw my money at the check engine light that’s constantly flashing… I just haven’t gotten around to it. (Good story, huh? Moving on…)
- Just to forewarn you all, if this winter does not end soon, I cannot be held accountable for my actions. Just so we’re clear…
Okay. Enough stalling. I’m off to do my taxes. It’s going to be a good time, let me tell you. You so wish you were me. Maybe when you grow up, little one. Maybe when you grow up.