The Art of the Two Legged Race

i think i was a cheerleader in a past life. don't worry, the thought make me want to vomit too.

i think i would like to live in the city and have a pet goat.

i hate feeling useless. i hate feeling used, i hate it most when i am uselessly used.

although, come to think of it, when i get annoyed, i often find myself wanting to punch a goat in the face.

i might need therapy.

i'm feeling about as productive as an ant in a snow storm.

when is a good time to tell someone you think they are stupid?

YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH

i think i am having an allergic reaction to something every time i eat.

i was walking up the step out of the subway and there was a gigantic dump on the top step. i didn't realize it at the time, but that would be the metaphor for the day.

i am still very angry.

i cannot spell the word "extremely" without spell checker.

i've decided people must think i am really stupid, which i use to my full advantage.

i am always facing backwards

i cut my hand this morning. it didn't hurt until i saw blood. i wonder how much pain is associated with the eyes.

you know what they say about bunnies crossing your path...

it's true. people cannot read signs. or instructions. or instructions written on signs.

i am away from my computer.

i think i could have been great, if only i could get out of bed.

i feel the ghost of you sometimes, breathing over my shoulder. and while at first this affected my life, now all i can think is that you really need a tic tac...like, seriously.

when i told someone recently about the amount of weight i had lost, they were extremely shocked, a sure-fire way to tell that i am still fat

it's too late for me to be a playboy bunny.

i think my heart can cry.

i can't fight my own bullies, but i have always been extremely good at fighting other people's. i can't defend myself sometimes, but you can be damn sure i will defend you.

it's weird to be told your services are no longer required.

i like tall people.

i never know what to do when i hear someone fart. do you acknowledge the fart? do you ignore the fart? do you move away from the fart? will that make the farter feel bad? do i care about the emotions of someone who just farted next to me? why does the word fart make me giggle? why do some farts smell like someone died? why do i usually smell these kinds of farts, when i am on the crowded early morning express 7 train and there is not a seat to be found or an inch to move away.

why is that the story of my life?