Musical Masochism

I’ve heard this song a bunch of times since That Guy “made it like it never happened and that we were nothing,” and I was perfectly fine. But it just came up on my Pandora playlist and suddenly I’m a weepy bitch over it?

Li’l early for PMS, isn’t it, Body? Though I suppose that would explain the recent irritability, exhaustion, insatiable libido, and mass consumption of salty, cheesy Mexican food with Girl-Scout-cookie chasers. 

This is all fine. (It actually is. It’s out of my hands. There’s literally nothing I can do except “breathe and reboot.” Plus I think I’ve proven I’m stronger than Weepy Bitch, even if on occasion she IS the one who knocks.)

Quotable cookie humor

“That’s what they have the nerve to call them: Thin Mints. Those are not Thin Mints, those are hydrogenated fat bombs. That is bikini cockblock in a box.”
— Lisa Landry

Just give me the Thin Mints and nobody gets hurt.

I’m at work, and some skinny bitch in HR just emailed the whole company about an inter-office Biggest Loser competition… WHILE I was emailing a friend to place my Girl Scout cookie order.

Fuck you, Universe.

P.S. I’m not really hating on the skinny woman. I’m just a cranky, chubby bitch who needs cookies to put the goblins to sleep.