Yesterday I spent the better part of 6 hours helping the best friend and her sister pack up all their worldly possessions as they are moving to an apartment. Her sis is in undergrad and she's going to grad school. Holy SHIT they have a lot of stuff. We very, very snugly packed a Uhaul trailer, the bed of a truck, her car, and her sister's car. I leave in half an hour to take the drive up there. It's gonna suck because they live on the second floor and have a couch and mattresses. Luckily, it isn't just us ladies. Her parents are there and they enlisted the help of her step mom's brother.
I slept like absolute shit and now I've got a day of running around the city ahead of me. Ugh. Dear Google - where is the nearest Starbucks to the Bay St. subway station? Fuck.
Without wanting to be cruel about it, how did you manage to survive this far in life if you need to google the location of a starbucks? They're everywhere.
The fat thread inspired me, I was going to be lazy and drive to NH last night, eat a greasy breakfast and go to my ten year reunion. Instead I just had a hard boiled egg and smoothie breakfast and am ready to go to martial arts class. That should be a good enough decision to shed that last 40-50 pounds before tonight, right? Right? Oh well at least I'm successful, I'll just hang out with the other fatties and mock the starving artists.
A poll for the audience - which is the hotter fantasy? A) School girl; B) Nurse; C) Librarian; D) Nun
I think I'd opt to get fucked in the ass with a metal studded baseball bat before wanting to get my car serviced. Tell me how the last two times I brought the fucking truck into your garage, I paid you to check the brakes - but both times, "everything was fine." Then today, for the third time, I ask you to check my brakes - and suddenly the brake pads and the rotors need replacing, which is going to cost me around $350. I hate cars. I hate mechanics. It's not even 10 AM and I think I need to pour myself a drink.
My latest pair of reading goggles are a set of Gucci whore librarian glasses and they were 100% the best decision I ever made. Husband licks his lips every time I read. So if I'm lobbying for some sex but he isn't DTF - "reading a book" usually does the trick.
350 for brakes and rotors? That's actually not that bad. I'm surprised that your mechanic doesn't do free brake checks, many do.
I'm going to start paying them in blow jobs. Maybe I'll get some real service. Let me clarify though. It's $350 for only front brakes and rotors.
I feel like every time I walk in there, I should apply some nice red lipstick so that at least I look pretty while they fuck me in the ass.