I recently fell asleep on the toilet.
I’m not going to say where I was or how it happened, but I will tell you I was getting paid at the time and it wasn’t an accident. While I admit I am slightly ashamed of my inappropriate slumber, overall I feel pretty okay about it. After all, some people shower with kids at their jobs. I just fell asleep. Lena – 1, Penn State Staff – 0.
Still this has me slightly concerned. Not just about my evident narcolepsy but the fact that I am so un-stimulated at my current employment that I can disappear to the bathroom for ten minutes and nap without anyone in my three-person office noticing. Really makes one feel a sense of value in the American workforce.
Nevertheless, I have decided that I can’t let this happen again. If I’m going to disappear for ten minutes, unnoticed, I’d rather it be to do something really important like read US Weekly in the bookstore or talk to Butch, the new janitor who likes to wink at me while stroking his mop. Just kidding. I stroke it for him.
Nothing in the last paragraph is true.
Anyway. Today while driving home from work I started to think, which was a strange adjustment after five hours of not thinking at all, about all of the other people in the world who are as un-stimulated by their work as I am, and wondering how they handle it. It didn’t take a great deal of brain power to determine the answer to all of life’s inevitably dull moments.
Now, everyone knows that I have a special place in my heart reserved for people who Google ridiculous things, because more often than not they end up at my blog. I’m not sure how it happens. I’m not sure how the search phrase “sometimes I feel sad and then I remember I have a nice big round ass” brings someone to my blog. But it does and it makes me happy.
So when I got home I decided to review all of the Google search terms that brought people to my blog in the past month, and much to my irrational level of happiness, I discovered that many a lost soul has reached my blog through deep, heart-wrenching, questions entered in the Google search box, only to be lost in the abyss of porn and pictures of cats that make up 96% of the content of the Internet.
Because of this, I have decided that I will take this time to respond to only the most imperative of questions my blog was formerly unable to answer. Here we go.
1. How tall is Kris Jenner?
Kris Jenner is 5 feet of unfortunate fertility and 6 inches of erectile dysfunction.
2. What are the worst things for a man to say to woman?
Woman: “Do these jeans make me look fat?”
Man: “Not as much as the ones you wore yesterday.”
Man: “It’s a lucky man that gets her pregnant.”
Woman: “That’s our daughter you’re talking about!”
3. Do Italians like skinny or curvy women?
Italians aren’t selective. They love women. All women. In fact, Italian men love women so much that by default, one gay Italian man will have more heterosexual sex in one month than four straight Jewish men will in their entire lives. I didn’t just make this up.
But realistically, every woman will have sex with at least one Italian man in her life. If she doesn’t she might be a lesbian, but is probably just a Mormon. In which case she will have lots of unsatisfying arranged sex with a much older man she is possibly related to, enough times that she will decide she hates all men, including Italians.
PS: Sorry, Mormons.
4. Why is it that that other woman has big legs?
An evolutionary defense against short Italians. And all Mormons.
5. Why is my urine very orange?
There are only three reasons urine is ever orange.
A. You have liver disease. Good luck with that
B. You eat too many carrots. F*** you.
C. You live in New Jersey. All of the above
6. Who is that tattooed man drinking coffee and wearing a pea coat?
It’s difficult to say without seeing the man in question, but nine times out of ten, it’s Taylor Lautner pretending to be straight.
7. How can I tell if a girl is wearing a butt pad?
Her butt cheeks are disproportionate to her desperation.
8. Are meth addicts proud of their addiction?
9. Why do I curse so much?
Because socially forbidden words are more satisfying to use than academically impressive ones.
And you know once you’re old it will be really funny.
10. What is it like to live alone with a pet dog?
Depressing. No one else you ever live with will love you so much they will hold their pee for 9 hours until they see you. It’s all downhill from there.
That’s all for now.
The girl with tan shoes and pink shoelaces