A lunch break blogger, just writing to hear herself talk.

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

1, 2, 3, 4

Awweee. I sure love her.

(No, that's not the Toaster filter. That's the actual bronzer on my actual face 
that's making me look slightly orange in this picture.)

1. I got up extra early so that I'd have time to go to Sbux before dropping Kanyeezie off at my parent's house and I got my mom and sister coffees, too. See? That sister up there with the coffee? I did that. RAK #1, donesky.

2. I'm going to do Random Acts of Kindness this holiday season and I'm going to call them RAKs. And now that I'm posting it, I really have to follow through. I'm wanting to buy small but awesome gifts, wrap them in really, really pretty packaging and then give them to randos who need it. I'm thinking like... leave it on the table for the waitress, give it to the Sbux drive thru girl, or a helpful sales clerk at a busy dept store. Just anyone I want to give a present to during this hectic time of year. I don't know what to get that's generic enough for a stranger... but I'll find something at TJ Maxx, I'm sure of it.

3.Emma. Stone. Sex. Tape. I want to see it but I also want to be a good Emmy (that's my pretend name for Emma Stone fans) and respect her sex-tape-making right to privacy. Surrious fight with my sissy about who's "got" Emma Stone. She used multiple profanities and exclamation points when making her point and intimidated me in to allowing her to claim Em as "her's". I claimed Mila Kunis, obvi, and the Olsen twins who count as just one person for the pair of them, so I came out ahead. Although I'm not sure I've forgiven MK&A for Heath Ledger's death... because I'm almost positive they had something to do with it.

4. Sunday night: Sleep right through the night, Kanye is a little angel. Tuesday night: Sleep through the night, Kanye was a little angel. But Monday night. Oh Monday night.

Imagine: Me, standing in the backyard at 2:00am wearing a red peacoat, leopard print pajama pants & high top sneakers, sobbing uncontrollably, saying over and over, "Kanye, please stop crying. I want your daddy to love you and you're not being very lovable" while Kanye howls in my face. Luckily, my boyfriend is the smartest boyfriend of all the boyfriends in all the land and suggested moving his crate in to our room so he doesn't have separation anxiety. And it worked like a charm. Either that worked or him chasing my parent's dog around for 8 hours, biting her butt hair, while we were at work wore him out. Don't know. Don't care. I slept. For 6 hours. I didn't even DREAM. Glorious.

Isn't his Dropout Bear* sweater just presh? 
The girls at Chick Fil A last night sure thought so. 
I practically thrust him through the drive thru window to show him off. 

*Dropout Bear is the cartoon teddy bear on most of Kanye West's album covers. We've decided Teddy Bears are going to be K-dawg's "thing" because it's funny. Because of Dropout Bear. Just clarifying our quirky, elaborate humor for the world.


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