A big, bad, something.
Something so horrible, awful, despicable, breathtakingly, ridiculously shame-inducing that it makes murder and stealing look tame. (Don't worry, it doesn't involve theft, murder, etc.)
Okay, there's no point in hiding it any longer, so I might as well admit it now and be done with it.
............Sometimes I talk to a little voice in my head. For instance -----
(Ready for the horrors? Ready for me to admit the deepest, darkest, secret of my whole pathetic little eleven years?)
There it is. So then I'm all like, Be quiet you, I didn't ask for that.
(Just telling it like it is, poophead)
Me: When I want for an editorial I'll ask for one, you little @!$%@*!
( Potty mouth! Potty mouth! Julia is a potty mouth!)
Me: You're asking for a toothless mouth, buster!!! Now shut the !#@%$% up!
( Alrighty then. ...............Pouting silence)
Okay, now I'm not interested in any trashy comments referring to my mental stability. Also I'm just messing with you, that's not even my deep, dark secret! Ha!
Okay................Now this is REALLY IT.
.................................................I have %@!!$%!%ing mice in my basement.
I catch them in tissue boxes.
I put them in flower vases to look at.
I let them loose in the back yard.
And sometimes, if they frustrate me while I'm catching them, I swear at them.
.....................And now you can truly question my mental health.
Sweet! I slept in your basement! I puked all over your basement! Is this the basement you speak of? If so, Coooooollll!!! I <3 mice! Even the evil little red eyed ones with rabies!!!!!!
ReplyDeleteI do too! and yes, the basements are one and the same. AWESOME, only not the puking part, thank you very much.
ReplyDelete