I HATE YOU.

I hate you more than I hate Russians. I hate you more than I hate the ambidextrous. I hate you more than I hate tarantulas. I hate you more than I hate ugly men. I hate you more than I hate hands. I hate you more than I hate messy desks. I hate you more than I hate people asking me about yogurt. I hate you more than I hate cumin. I hate you more than I hate salsa music. I hate you more than I hate butter. I hate you more than I hate leukemia. I hate you more than I hate tears. But I sure would love to see you at my going away happy hour with a wallet full of cash with which you can buy me all the drinks you owe me for having to suffer through your mind-numbing stories throughout these long-assed years. I'm looking at you, Jon Zast. Plus, I'll bring pictures of Westies!

(more things I hate here)

Monday, March 22, 2010

Remember when Beam stole all our coats.

Then she used them to keep herself warm while the rest of us froze our butts off?
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