My behavior the last few days has just proven to me that I can't have nice things. NOTE: This post is only explaining why I can't have nice things, not that I don't have nice things. I have lots of nice things (that I'm surprised are still intact), but that's besides the point. I really hope that you find this as humorous as I do. I'm overdue for a blog post rife with dry, self-deprecating humor that demonstrates the farcical circumstances that make up my every day life.
But really, I can't have nice things because...
1. I knocked Santa over with my ear buds. Poor Santa.
|Please don't ask me why we have a Santa Claus candy dish year-round.|
3. I have a potty mouth. Anyone with such an ineloquent vocabulary surely doesn't deserve nice things.
4. My room looks like a storage unit.
|Looking at this give me a headache.|
|Notice the box of shoes. Just notice it.|
DISCLAIMER: This isn't the nice pretty Hollywood room at my dad's house. This is a 10 year-long redecorating procrastination nightmare that is currently housing all of my college stuff and tons of miscellaneous crap. And more stuffed animals.
|I don't know which is more horrifying, the fact that I still have stuffed animals, or that headboard.|
|Don't kid yourself. Your car is a mess, too.|
7. I have one year-old dorm dust remaining on my laptop from Smith Hall. 'Nuff said.
|You can barely see it... but it's there!|
8. ...of this face.
|And that hair.|
9. Because apparently my picture-taking skills are still in the Myspace phase.
|I feel it's all the funnier to leave it sideways.|