Don't mind the spaghetti sauce!

I am a grateful person, I think it's very sweet when people give me gifts and I normally appreciate them. My good heart was terribly confused and sent into convulsions yesterday as I opened a gift from the Crotch yesterday.

Are you ready? No, I honestly do not think so.



BOOM.

No, seriously. What? First of all, I am 27 years old and never in the entire year that I've worked here have I ever worn anything that would give someone the idea that I would wear this sweater. I mean, as fly as it is, I save these kinds of sweaters for my weekend rendezvous with my sugar daddies.

This was my initial shock. I opened the package and unfolded the sweater and noticed it is covered in stains. Not just normal oh shit these wouldn't come off in the wash stains but stains that were still crunchy. It's like someone wore the sweater, spilled portions of their entire meal all over and then this bitch wrapped it up. WOW! Thanks! This is the most magical gift I will ever receive. Ever.

She stood there beaming with pride that I seemed to love this beautiful sweater. As I thanked her and tried to put it away, I put my finger through a hole in the damn sweater.

Alright, let's go over the facts.
1: Pasta buffett on the sweater? Check.
2: Mouse holes in the sweater? Double Check.
3: It's a 1x, the fat girl should get it. Triple Check.

A few minutes later, she returns and says to me 'WELL! WHAT DO YOU THINK OF IT? YOU LOVE IT RIGHT? I THOUGHT IT WAS PERFECT FOR YOU! Does it fit?! If it doesn't fit, you should lose weight!!!'

Please push the pause button, you can return to MarioKart after these brief messages.

Bitch, WHAT?!

You gave me a box of chocolate covered cookies and this beautiful sweater but suggest losing weight before I wear the sweater? Are you a double agent plotting my demise? EAT EAT EAT EAT FEEL BAD LOSE WEIGHT WEAR SWEATER.

I guess I'll be the flyest looking bitch at the Christmas party.

So apparently my shirt thought it would be ok to sit on top of my ass all day, revealing my skank panties to my boss who is training me today. RIGHT BEHIND ME. I don't know why I didn't realize my ass was hanging out all day, but fuck I'm sure he'd been making some fucked up faces behind me.

In other news, I believe psychiatrist are the laziest types of doctors, yes you talk all day and give advice but really? REALLY? Why does 15 minutes of your time cost $171? Bullshit.

Also, my newest tattoo may have given me malaria or something since it seems that I am not healing, and it looks like crusty hell. I'm giving it a few more days before I decide to slice off an entire chunk of my shoulder.

That is all.
Oh and someone find me a boyfriend, this lack of boy is irritating.

Return of the croc.

And so it begins.

I feel like I have body lice, I am SO itchy. All over.

Well, that's a lie. I'm not itchy all over, I'm itchy in like 3 spots on my stomach. It's my own fault though, I'm far too forgetful to put lotion on after a shower. ITS SO MESSY. But this spot on my stomach is going to force me to pull my shirt up in front of 5 patients and rub my stomach against the spackled wall for relief.

DOES ANYONE HAVE ANYTHING THAT WILL MAKE IT STOP.

Adventures in Stank.

It seems I attract the stank.

Remember the neighbor whose breath smelled like dicks? Wellll, my new job has brought me a therapist who smells like crotch. Constantly.

I'm not sure how you can avoid smelling yourself when your scent leaves a trail of little stars behind you. I was sitting here typing away and I knew crotch was behind me, I mean how could I not? I was in close proximity and there were small alarms going off around me. I turn around to grab something off the floor and plant my face RIGHT INTO THE CROTCH.

No no no no no no. There are far too many things wrong with this entire scenario, I apologized and tried to regain my composure but that wasn't all that easy. Wrong, just wrong.


I'll have to recap the naked man's ass in the women's bathroom another day, it's all too much for one day.