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