Confession: When I clean around the apartment, I wear fairy wings.   It seems only right, because I think thats how the dudes think it gets done.   They must think that a little fairy comes in when they’re sleeping and scrubs the bathtub and mops the floor.   I know they’re not doing it, they know they’re not doing it, and they’re not thanking me, so they must not think that I have been busting tail.   It must be the housework fairy.   Well, this housework fairy is tired, sweaty, and all I want is a cold beer.   The really said thing is, I mopped myself out of the kitchen, and I can’t get to the fridge.

And even if I could get in there, the only thing in the fridge is one of the dude’s Keystone Lights.


Current mood: thirsty