It’s the day after Christmas and definitely not a Tuesday.
I asked myself what day it was because I honestly don’t know. Winter break has ruined my sleep schedule, it’s 2:25 am and I know I’m going to be awake for another 4-5 hours.
I’m singing along to “suga suga” lmao. I literally know the entire thing. It’s a good song, guys. I remember my friends told me it was “their” song. I remember when they told me half of me was like “disgusting,” and the other half said “nice.” “Nice” was the answer I blurted out. You know, I can’t just be a raging bitch all the time. I love being a bitch though. My brother keeps telling me I’m a horrible human being bUT IF FUCKIN’ BECKY DECIDES TO COME FOR ME I’M GONNA BE THROWING MY WINE. SHE KNEW GODDAMN WELL NOT TO PULL SHIT THIS YEAR.
^^ So like, none of that Becky stuff happened but if Becky kept pulling stunts I don’t know if I wouldn’t have thrown my wine.
Speaking of wine, drunk me is a stupid bitch. There’s a difference. “Drunk me” is totally a fictional character and not actually me, she is a character I have created from my imagination and nothing else.
So after having her daily 15 minutes of crying, her friend texted her and was like “BITCHHHHH, be there in 5,” because they had to go to a party or something–she literally never knows anything. Drunk me was like 93.68% ready, maybe less because she’s telling me she changed her belt twice (BUT NOT THOSE FUCKING CHECKERED VANS SHE ALWAYS FUCKING WEARS, LIKE WHY NOT GIVE THEM A REST FOR TONIGHT???? YOUR FUCKING FRIEND IS WEARING THEM, I KNOW YOU THINK “OMG TWINSIES,” BUT NO, DRUNK ME, IT’S NOT FUCKING CUTE) and totally doesn’t remember how she got to the wine. The wine isn’t even wine. Lmao, as if she could afford wine. I just realized all the information before the wine is irrelevant. Nice. You know what else I just realized? The entire story is literally so unimportant. All she wants to say is that she has mystery bruises. Point is: she’s a fuckin’ mess. Can’t trust her. No ma’am. Drunk me just tried to tell you a story and failed. This is why she only goes out once a year. To be honest, she goes out more than once a year but it feels like a year between weekends.
It’s really hard to think of stuff, yo. Thinking is so hardddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd.
Anyway, it’s almost 2017. That’s exciting, I guess. 2016 has been the worst year to date but I can only assume 2017 is going to top it. Shit is just going to drag onto the following year. I guess people are trying to stay optimistic but I can’t. Everything is just ruined now. MY ZEN CRYSTALS AREN’T WORKING, MEGAN.
Ugh, I just remembered I have to reply to a snapchat. I don’t want to reply. 1) I literally freaked out on this person so bad and 2) Yikēs. I don’t like dealing with things, ugh, like take that and like roll with it forever.
I say “like” a lot, I’ve noticed. I’m not going to stop though. I remember reading this article in my English class junior year of high school and it said the word “like” made the English language more flexible. Whatever the fuck that means. Something about making it more like the Romantique languages (I like the -que, deal with it). I guess they have more ways to phrase things and form sentences or whatever. I could honestly give two fucks but it gives me a reason to not stop. If it’s changing this disgusting Germanic language and makes it into something more sophisticated, why stop?
I literally talk so much trash about the Germans. They’re like top 5 weirdest people in the world. Germany has been a shit show since day one, let’s keep it real. One of my best friends lived in Germany for most of her life and I’m going to fuck with her until she dies. Apparently every German dish ever is just 98% meat. Like, w h a t? I had this big ass burger at Denny’s today and I snapped her a picture and it was literally a ball of meat. No bread, no lettuce, no cheese, no tomato. One giant mass of meat.
Have I shared with you guys that I called my nephew a mountain of ground beef on speaker phone before? Because I have. Showed up to their Christmas party and everything too, not gonna let this pile of meat ruin my goddamnd Christmas. I bet that’s what social conservatives say when the Starbucks barrista gives them their drink in a red cup AND says “Happy Holidays,” instead of “Merry Christmas.” This goddamn baby though. That’s the worst thing I’ve ever done I swear, like, I’m hating on a baby. BUT MY COUSIN POSTS SO MUCH. LIKE, NO, SUSAN, I DON’T WANNA SEE THIS BABY. IT LOOKS LIKE YOUR HUSBAND AND HE’S THE WORST. HE WORKS IN A TOYS R US, SUSAN. GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER.
This post has 100% become a rant. You’re welcome?
Anyway, it’s late and I’m bored. Bye!!