Friday, February 15, 2013

The things I can't or won't ever be post

Lets be real  for a minute here chicken nuggets.
Shits about to get real up in here.
I'm about to be sarcastic Sally, negative Nancy, bitter Betty.
AKA I'm about to be writing some bitter nasty man hating posts so get your self ready champs.
However I also promise to sprinkle in some pretty pictures, drunken tales of shenanigans and perhaps some really really entertaining stories about eating myself into a food coma.
Deal?
Great thanks party people.

I'd like to tell you all a few little facts.
Not fluffy fun facts but the nitty gritty real business.
The "I can'ts and I won't's" if you will.

I can't for the life of me ever take a person serious that wears UGG boots and a denim skirt. I don't care if it was cool on Laguna Beach. You aren't LC and this isn't 2005. Get outta here with that.

I won't ever be a housewife. I just can't. I mean doesn't a housewife usually enjoy doing things like baking and laundry? Sick. No thanks I'd rather dig through my laundry basket throw my slacks in the dryer for 5 than actually tackle that mountain of laundry my dogs love to sleep on. And don't even get me started on cleaning toilets. 

I can't stand mouth breathers. BREATHE THRU YOUR NOSE FOR EFF'S SAKE BEFORE I HAVE TO END UP ON AN EPISODE OF SNAPPED.

I won't ever be a 5 day a week blogger. I'm far too unorganized and far too lazy. I have a million things to say and a million ideas churning around but heaven knows that sometimes all I really want to do is crawl in bed with my cucumber vodka cocktail. So SUE ME...

I can't enjoy red wine. I mean I want to, I really really want to. I just can't. My mouth gets all dry and bitter and ugh I hate it. Please just give me my sweet moscato or my reisling so I can drink my juice like wine and get drunk like a classy broad.

I won't ever stop thinking I'm 21 rather than 26. I mean when did I cross over from "young wild irresponsible 21" to "you should have your shit together 26"? I can't even begin to wrap my mind around that shit. No thanks.


I can't diet. I just can't. Not unless you want to stare into the eyes of the demon cobra that will suck the soul straight out of you. 

I won't make my bed every day. NO. I just won't. 

I can't trust anyone who doesn't love gravy. I can't even say anything else about this topic.

I can't even begin to understand how ANYONE can not be in love with Harry Potter.

On that note I won't be anyones friend who doesn't understand my profound love for HP. Get it or get out?


I can't and I won't ever, and I mean EVER work on my birthday.


I can't even begin to explain my very real and very serious fear of EVER getting pregnant. I'll pass.

I won't ever get tired of taking naps and I want to do it for the rest of my life as many times a week as I can.


I can't even begin to explain the depth of love and pride I have for my nieces and nephews. I just can't even begin. I love those nuggets like whoaa.

I won't ever stop talking to my dogs. Even if I sound insane.

I can't even believe people don't like whiskey. I can't. I can't believe I used to be one of those people.

I won't ever understand why dating has to be SO damn complicated. I won't ever understand why a man can't just be real, say real things, mean real things and than align his actions with his words. Am I cray cray for thinking people should say what they mean and mean what they say?

And that my friends are things I can't and won't ever be.











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