Rest For The Wicked
Well I have a day off. But not really. I'm about to get a shower, pick up the last stuff for the gingerbread house and go into WORK. I think I fucking LIVE there. GINGERBREAD HELL! When my sister and I were young we used to joke about what HELL would be like, figuring it would be 100 times worse than ones worst tasks in life. We used to say our hell would be spent in a hot garage with 300 cats having to change litter boxes and feed the cats smelly nasty canned food. Today I think my hell would be me in a gingerbread house that smelled like a cat box and filled with fucking yappy ass crotch sniffing dogs with the occasional cameo by some of my WORST dates eveah. Woah, wow, am I bitter about this? Where did that cookie hate come from?
Yesterday at the end of the day I found a big blob of green icing in my hair.
AND because I know you only come here to see CAKE. Here it is.
Excuse the crappy quality of photos. I only had my cell phone with me.
I'll try to take another photo with my camera today when I go back to gingerbread hell.
Okay, off to shower so I can get this gingerbread thing done.