I have been so unbelievably lazy about writing, y'all. Sorry.
Hey, guys, remember
this post?! (hint: it was the last thing I posted)
To get those of you who haven't read that post and are too fucking lazy to do it now (god damn you!) up to speed, I hang out with a bunch of weirdos and we've started sending each other boxes of random crap because we all love each other with the sort of twisted affection which can only be expressed by sweeping the contents of our junk drawer into a box and giving it to the object of our feelings.
First, my sister sent a box to Logan and he said funny things about it. Then she sent a box to Andrew (of Agitated Andrew fame) and he took pictures of the the stuff, but didn't have the decency to write a hate-filled rant about it. I mean, seriously, she can totally take the abuse, you should have at least called her a name.
At this point, I sent a box to someone who has yet to receive it - or who is just not talking about it. Either is entirely possible. I still cry every night from the not knowing. Anywhoozle, next,
I sent a box to Logan and he did exactly what I expected - made everything a billion times funnier than it was. I could post that next week, I just wanted to actually post something this week that I sort of wrote.
So let's get cracking.
Priority Mail, huh? I
knew it.
Picking this up was interesting. There's a new girl at the office, and while she was having me sign for it, I said, "you wouldn't believe me if I told you what was in this box..." and she said, "is it a kitten? I'd believe that." So, I'll be asking for her from now on, obviously.
A black pouch?! Damn, you get me. I love pouching stuff.
Hrm. This is just cryptic. Thanks for the dog hair though - I love dog hair almost as much as I love pouching stuff. Unless that's like, grey pubic hair. If that's the case, I hear you. Loud and clear. *picks up telephone*
I'm coloring all of these orange and sending them right the fuck back to you, L.
The vodka we love is also gluten-free?! Man, we are totally in line with the illness everyone thinks they have. We are so freaking hip.
But what really matters is this awesome tumbler. See kids, let this be a lesson to you - all you have to do is annoy your virtual drinking buddy by using a freaking juice glass for several months and they'll eventually send you something vastly superior. Sometimes you don't have to be the squeaky wheel, you just have to be the lazy one. Winning!
Ah, now we're getting into it. So very many things I don't need, but now treasure. Do I like stacks of random shit? No. I
love them.
Also, I'm now apparently a fucking millionaire in Frisco, North Carolina, so meet me there and we'll get trashed and laugh at people with zippers. Invite Gary Busey, too - he loves that kinda shit.
Thank god I bothered to read the parenthetical, I almost didn't open this envelope. I can't wait to finally go to Canada and spend the equivalent of just under an American dollar or to Hong Kong to see what I could get for the equivalent of thirteen cents. Once I build that time machine, I'm totally going to England to spend that shilling on like, a loaf of bread or a sheep farm.
The highlight of this collection is Logan wearing a powder blue sailor suit and a Hello Kitty nightgown. This explains ... so much. Including his ruscid magulinity.
God. You sweat through your clothing from just sitting on your couch a few times and people start sending you deodorant. For men. (Free deodorant! Score!)
I love the pencil, as I am definitely, positively wild about learning. The only problem is that I sent you my pencil sharpener, so I just totally Gift of the Magi'd myself. Devil!
Once I'm done partying with Gary Busey in Frisco, NC (which may go for an extended period, as my new deodorant is time-released), I'll head on over to get you some fancy fudge, Logan. I can take a hint.
Awesome! I knew you had a comprehensive nerd kit! And you gave it to me!
But where's my fucking popcorn!
Stop. You had me at sinus rinse.
.
