Hey ladies/hey ladies/wanna ride in my Mercedes? Then SHAKE THAT HEALTHY BUTT!
Love me some Sir Mix-A-Lot. I like big butts,and I cannot lie.
First off,let me begin by wishing me and everyone else on their period HAPPY NO-MOTHERS DAY. Tis a joyful one that comes each month,particularly joyful when thou knowest that thou may have been engaging in activities that may have possibly led to parenthood. Rejoice!
I woke up to the sound of my own mother telling me frightful things. I groggily remember a ‘wake up!’ and ‘cook!’ The horror shocked me out of bed. I came downstairs to do dishes and peel sweet potatoes.
I didn’t know that sweet potatoes go green when you peel them. I did not know this because I do not cook. It was interesting,this colorful-ha-yet monochromatic phenomenon. They were obviously jealous that I had clothing and they were being stripped of theirs. Neenerneenerneeeeeeenerrrrr. :p
My finger was rubbing against the potatoes a lot so I scraped off some skin. At this point I was aggravated. I was being forced to pretend to know how to cook,suffered from loss of dermis,and still had a deadline to hand in stuff in kedo 3 hours. Then I remembered I had to go into town because cybers don’t open on Sunday except in the CBD. Great! Goodbye afternoon nap. Which therefore resulted in me making @queenmoraa and @arungaian wait. I hate keeping people waiting,possibly more than when people keep me waiting. In typical no-blood fashion,no underwear was worn with my pristine white shorts.
I get to Yaya and start cramping. I wasn’t rolling at this point-in fact,wasn’t supposed to be for at least another 36 hours-so these abdominal agonies were a mystery. I said ‘@queenmoraa,WHY?’ @queenmoraa said, ‘Tampons.’ In we go to the supermarket leaving an uncomfortable @arungaian outside.
Next to the pads section,there are no tampons. More shock. We ask an attendant. He doesn’t know what I’m talking about.
FOR SHAME. 2011? SUPERMARKET ATTENDANT? For. SHAME.
He refers us to a less shameful attendant who says they’re next to the counter. Who the hell is in charge of this organization thing? Probably Mr. Ignorant over there.
They’re not there. We look around and finally notice them in the locked glass cabinet next to the propane and padlocks. Yeah,because tampons are weapons for world domination/prison security/arson. smh
We pay and proceed to the bathroom so I can self-gratify but not with a cotton dildo. In the process,I burst out laughing. Why? Because the finger I used was the sweet potato finger. The one with the scraped skin. Now exposed to juices that were serving as sijui antiseptic. FUN STUFF. Instead of sucking wounds,just shove them into… (but what if it’s on your elbow,you ask? You’re on your own,kid.) The situation was funny to me. So I laughed. And Ann wondered exactly what was going where.
Moral of the story? THIS is why I don’t cook.