i ended up pissing the night away AGAIN last night. there's something seriously wrong with me. my brain feels like mush. but i'm so not kidding around anymore. i cannot afford to eff around. and i'm not GOING to eff around. this is the vow i make to myself, you my faithful readers (aka my sister), and oh, i dunno, wyclef jean.
what i HAVE been doing is eating myself into a pms-induced coma. the roomie bought a pack of girl guide cookies and i mowed all the vanilla cream ones. i didn't even TRY to offer one to anyone else, even though they weren't mine! those things are LOADED with trans fats! (evil little j.c.-loving girl guides). the vanilla cream ones, when dipped into milk, succumb to a transcendent alchemy of flavours and textures that destroy my ability to even put up a facade of resistance. then i ate all the wish chips (and a good number of non wish chips) out of a bag of lay's dill pickle chips. i used to have an unwarranted prejudice against condiment-flavoured chips (ketchup, dill pickle, etc) but dill pickle chips are THE BEST! it's like an amped up salt'n'vinegar. aces!
just to rescue this from the completely banal (arguable), i'm going to put in a pet peeve. i really really hate it when people claim their dog is "part wolf". no it's NOT you jackass and p.s. even on the slim chance that one of the 10 wolves left in canada decided to breed with your pug's mama, it doesn't make you anything but the dog-owner equivalent of some nouveau-riche lv sportin' dickface clomping down yorkville ave.
today is long day. i'm packing leftover chili, guacamole, and maybe some sour cream for dinner, alongside an apple, some strawberries, a banana, and an oatmeal cookie bar.