Who let me walk out of the house today looking like a hot ghetto mess? I know I'm on the bus (Jamie isn't fixed yet) but that doesn't mean I have to look homeless. I've decided that I need a really honest friend or a super queeny magic mirror at the front door to give me the once over and tell me to march back upstairs and change my shirt, which is too short, and fix my hair, which looks like Witch Hazel. And the bags under my eyes? If I were flying today they'd cost me an easy $50.
The spiders in my house, taking advantage of my no-kill policy, are holding an old-fashioned tent revival in the bathroom. The least they could do was give me heads up that I was less than presentable. I mean, it's the Christian thing to do.Instead, I had to spend the day looking like crap and a cracker. Thanks, rotten spiders. Let's see if you survive the week. I can just as easily start in with the Raid, ya know.