Tag Archives: unicorn
Improving my health one shiny trinket at a time.
“So, Smug, what finally got you off your lazy ass to start working out again? Was it all that free time while you were unemployed? Was it multiple healthcare professionals telling you regular exercise could help you feel less depressed and foggy and gross? Perhaps the fact that all your pants are uncomfortably tight because your thighs look like those big fuckoff turkey legs at Renaissance Faires?”
“Naw. They etched a mythical creature into a piece of shitty fake metal.”
“One of the 24 similarities between girls and fish is that they’re both attracted to shiny objects.”
— Barney Stinson
Eternal conundrum: Hating people but needing sex
Male BFF: “Where do you want to go for drinks tomorrow night? Something low-key like Barcade, or something more involved like dancing at a gay bar where you’ll be fondled by beautiful gay men and I will have an experience in the men’s room that leaves me questioning some very fundamental things about myself?
Me: “Any place I can get drunk and find a dude or two to make out with, but that is also magically not crowded/won’t have a wait on a Saturday night.”
(If y’all ever have the chance, being horny, lazy, AND socially anxious is, like, the BEST.)
Followup email: “Also, if I’m going to get fondled, I think I’d prefer hetero. I’m not sure I could convince a gay man to put his hand up my dress. But hey, dare to dream.”
I think My Default Bar wins—they offer bacon-y cheese pretzels, froofy cocktails, and cake. Throw a unicorn* and some books in that joint and I’ll be set for life.
*Please don’t really throw unicorns. They’ll fuck you up. Little known fact: Unicorns are actually total assholes.
Liquor is quicker but pills make me brill.
My doctor recommended hippie sleeping pills made with, like, valerian root and unicorn meat, and I should write more often while they’re taking over my body, because Christballs, I’m BRILLIANT.
I mean, we’ll see how it looks in the morning, but at the moment I’m basically a slutty Chaucer.
Captain Picard never logged his calories.
Diet and fitness challenge with friends, Day 1: There is no cheese on this salad and everything is stupid and tastes like tragedy with a dressing of baby unicorn tears and I’m still menstruating and if you don’t hear from me again it’s because I died of cheeselessness and injustice.
Friendship Friday! (Shut up, it’s totally a thing.)
Happy Friday, people!
And thanks be, as always, to my bestests. I couldn’t surround myself with a more amazing and supportive group of friends. MAYBE if one of y’all had a unicorn or worked for a book publisher. But you’re still pretty goddamn great, so please enjoy this lunchtime dance party.
“I was so lost back then, but with a little help from my friends, I found a light in the tunnel at the end…”
Fifty Shades of…Whimsy?
OKCupid profile says the guy is interested in “exploring D/s and various fetishes with a sense of whimsy and humor.”
Um…no. Spank my ass and manhandle me if that’s how we’re playing, but don’t find it funny. Grab my hair and show me what you want. Ain’t shit whimsical about any of that. Do you SEE a unicorn? You do not.