It's cold. It's so cold in fact, I am currently wearing socks, which is one of those things that OTHER people do. I don't. I flipping hate socks. Know what else I hate? Shoes. If I could walk around in flip flops, all day, every day, I'd be a happy girl.
Which is kind of ridiculous, because I'm one happy bitch right now. Except for the fact that if I step outside in sandals, I'm probably losing three toes to frostbite. I don't know about you, but no one wants to date bitches with only seven of the given ten toes. I know I wouldn't. I mean, feet freak me out, anyway, which I think can pretty much be traced back to hobbit feet and the oddity of their feet being longer than their shinbones, and having more hair than they do on their heads, but I digress. If a guy has jacked up feet, I'm probably not going to be interested. Mainly because all I can think about now is how absolutely fucked up his feet are. I don't give a damn if Kevin James is probably my favorite actor in the whole wide world, and I wholeheartedly plan on taking "Here Comes The Boom" with me into a dark, soundproof room and freeze framing the half-naked scenes- if he has jacked up feet, I will never be able to look at him the same way again. It just won't happen.
LESSON? Don't have fucked-up hobbit feet. Or always wear socks and never let me know you have weird fucking feet. Three years into a marriage, and I will still pull the goddamn plug if you have weird, hobbit feet. I do not give a single shit.
But back to the weather- It's fucking freezing. I know it's January, douchewagon, and I know it's supposed to be cold. I know. But I had to walk 200 yards between buildings today, and I'm pretty sure my mucus membranes froze in my nose, which forced me to try and breathe through my mouth, which was a horrible decision, because it froze my teeth, and made my lungs feel like they were possibly collapsing, but were probably just calling a strike on account of the bullshit ice-cold air that was raping their air-sacs...
I just giggled at the word 'sac.' How in the hell have I even gotten laid at this point in my life? I'm like a 16 year old boy, all dick jokes and bad hormones...
I decided breathing through the nose or the mouth was a bad option, so I buried my face into my coat, which warmed my entire face quite nicely, but also fogged up my glasses so damn bad I tripped over a damn curb that I KNEW WAS FUCKING COMING. So, that's a big "Go Eff Yourself, GLASSES." But please don't leave me yet, since I don't have my contacts. Although, those probably would have frozen in my eyeballs (hah, balls.) and shattered and sliced my unsuspecting corneas to ribbons.
And if my corneas were shredded to ribbons, I'd be blind. BLIND. I'd probably be that asshole that's always flipping off the wrong person, and people would have to spin me to face the correct garner-er of my pique. If I were blind, though, it'd probably be more acceptable for me to grope people. I feel like blind folks get a pass. I probably grab a lot of asses. Sorry, guys, I know- as it turns out, I'm not all that classy. Show of hands for those surprised. Socially acceptable groping in turn for not being able to see who I'm calling a doucheprechaun. Whatevs. I'm completely okay with that trade-off.
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