For the record, Bryan was supposed to read his poetry at 3:15. I was in town by 2:45 when he texted me and was like, “well, it’s done and you’re a sorry excuse for a medicated lady,” which was a bit harsh but he was a diva at a gay pride event so I give him props. Fate promptly bitch-slapped me. Before and after, respectively.
Oh Dear Lord. The smell.
I didn’t know poet grin could bee such a bitch. Just slap him.
For the record, the text message I sent her was, “I’m done. It’s okay!”
Mariana, I am shocked that you condone such violence!!!
Also, M’Lady, I think you should explain the photographs, the fire, the smell…
Ha! Yes, I’ve taken to hitting him with my purse for good measure.
Fate bitch-slapped me covers it, I think.
For pasta steamers, remember to add water, dear readers. Otherwise, it will burn and you will be left with the scorched remants of a once delicious-looking microwave dinner and the charred innards of a microwave. And you will be forced to endure the plastic burnt smell indefinitely.
I’m curious. What drew your attention away from the microwave? And what did you end up eating for dinner? And why are you lopsided?
Your exact words were, “Medicated Lady, you deserve everything you get, especially your sunburn, your swimmer’s ear/gurgling, your sad, shapeless hair, and the wasps which plague your walkway. May your microwave meals always explode. You look chunky today.”
You hideous person.
1. I had just read your tag from “Perfectly Normal” which indicated you wrote a poem for me and I was late and didn’t get to hear it when I smelled the distinct crispness of a raging microwave fire.
2. I ate cooooookies.
3. I am lopsided because that’s the way God made me. Also, I have an uneven gravitational pull that is in every way related to the unevenness of my mental stability.
1210, biotch.
Hmm, I don’t know what to say to all this, so I’m going to do the intelligent thing and say nothing.
Hide the voodoo dolls and the push pins.
ooops!
on so many levels 🙂
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