|"Oh you got a ouchfit?"|
This morning I was tasked with writing a report for some events I worked at over a month ago. I don't remember any of those details! What time was set-up? Who was there? How long? Any costs? What did we display? How was it displayed? What did we hand out? How many people did we talk to? On the trill? That is trippin because I don't know that shit. I just had to estimate. When I relayed this to my friend Mia, her response was this:
Here is your summary "Lots of sluts stopped by our booth to get free condoms and pregnancy kits, they supplied their own wire hangers if the pregnancy tests came out badly. It took place on a thursday, it took three hot seconds to set up (i just threw some pills on the table and screamed FREE PUSSY PROTECTION). I was there for an excruciating hour and I set it on fire at the end so I wouldn't have to pack anything up. Three horny co-eds stopped by and they suggested that next year we do free abortions at the fair! I think It's a great idea!"
1 to 10, how much do you love me?
How mazongballs is that? I had to go to the bathroom and laugh because I was starting to make a scene. Oh yeah, I'm making MAZONG happen. At least for Mia and me. It was a typo once, but we've been rolling with it. Now at least the word predictor in the typing program of my phone knows it. Just like it knows that when I write "pancake," the next words are most likely going to be "makeup gift certificate" #Starrbooty. Am I allowed to just hashtag something like that? Too bad. I'm forcing it upon your eyes. Ocular rape.