These last few days have been a daze.
I'm still sick as fuck... not tummy-wise... or even mental/sentimentally, but physically.
I'm fucked up.
I'm fighting a cold... the fucking cold from hell... and I still have to be a good host to my goddaughter, since I'm the only person available for most of the day.
I don't want her to have a shit time, so I end up "manning up" by taking a shit-ton of vitamins (I even shoot a teaspoon of straight vitamin C... the absolute grosses shit ever) and hopping out of that front door.
I cough all over the place... all over the fucking tourists (today, just to be a cunt, I coughed on a French couple as I strolled down the Bellagio shops. It was my discreet FUCK YOU GUYS! NEVER FORGET! YOU'RE IN AMUUUURICA! FUCK. FRANCE. Ahhh, I'm so resentful, it's gross), and I sniffle every twenty seconds. My nose is red and dry, and my voice... it sounds like I have a bullfrog living in my vocal cords.
I'm straight GARBAGE, but I deal with it because I don't want the little coconut to complain about having a shit time in my city.
Needless to say, I'm also a little agravated. It's difficult to stay chirpy when you're forcing yourself to look and act normal... when all you want to do is stay in bed, sippin' on some hot tea and chicken soup... coughing like a motherfucker and spitting out all the disgusting, drama-causing phlegm.
Like with everyone, I'm noticing some things that bother me a bit about this goddaughter of mine. I've tried beating them out of her.
She's A LITTLE self-centered.
Her momma's a housewife... so she does everything around the house. The only thing my little coconut has to do is... wake up, go to school, go to soccer practice, do her homework, go to sleep. So... she's kinda... slightly... umm... how do I put this nicely... she's... a little useless? Um... a little lazy?
She leaves her clothes thrown all over the house-- the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom, the different bedrooms.
She'll also leave her used bath towels (because she uses two each day) crumbled in the corner of the bathroom... or sink... but ALWAYS crumbled into a very wet ball.
She'll leave all appliances turned on... even her straightening iron.
It's... quite obvious what her mom does for her... because the coconut won't do those activities (seriously... not turning off appliances? That's dangerous! Do it for your OWN safety, homegirl).
My little coconut also lacks a filter when speaking.
Yesterday, as we were all enjoying a family dinner at the kitchen table, she started talking about dolphin facts.
Coconut: Oh my god! I learned SO much about dolphins last year! Like... SO MUCH!
Mom: Oh yeah? My favorite animal is the dolphin.
Coconut: Yeah! Like... there's this thing... called... beastAlity...
D: BesTIALity...
Coconut: Yeah, that. Where humans like to fuck animals...
Me: Oh man...
I look at dad, who has long since stopped eating.
Coconut: And like... when dolphins cum... it like... SHOOTS OUT AT 40 MILES PER HOUR!
Coconut accompanies this with hand gestures... which... I mean, I'm sure you can all imagine what it must have looked like-- her reaching for her imaginary penis, and then "shooting" cum out of it. Truly priceless, guys, just priceless.
Coconut: Imagine! Imagine if like... a human is trying to give it a blowjob!
(I had lost all control by now and was laughing so hard, I was hurting my tender little esophagus. "Blowjob" in a Chicago accent cracks me the fuck up. "Blow-J-Ahhhhh-b")
Coconut: It'll chop the person's head right off!!
Yup. Definitely my goddaughter!
This child just HAD to be mine.
She's clearly one of my people... though I'd NEVER mention blowjobs... bestiality... or any sort of sexually-related topic in front of my dad... or anyone else's dad. EVER.
(She proceeded to make today's dinner similarly eventful... by talking about diarrhea. That kid. Gotta love it)
I hope this flu goes to hell in the next few hours. I need to be in tip-top shape for at least one fucking day... you know, so I can remember it clearly whenever I want to take a stroll down memory lane.
Also, so I can take at least one decent shot with the freakin' munchkin (today, we rode one of the rollercoasters on the strip, and when we reached that one place where they show you the photo they take of you while you're on the ride, she took a glimpse of it and very loudly exclaimed "YOU LOOK FUCKIN' RETARDED, AnoMALIE!" That damn filter thing again).
Aaaand there's also the UNLV game on Friday... while I'm cool with fucking up the stupid tourists on the strip, I don't want my fellow Rebels to get sick because of my sick "retarded" ass.
I'm still sick as fuck... not tummy-wise... or even mental/sentimentally, but physically.
I'm fucked up.
I'm fighting a cold... the fucking cold from hell... and I still have to be a good host to my goddaughter, since I'm the only person available for most of the day.
I don't want her to have a shit time, so I end up "manning up" by taking a shit-ton of vitamins (I even shoot a teaspoon of straight vitamin C... the absolute grosses shit ever) and hopping out of that front door.
I cough all over the place... all over the fucking tourists (today, just to be a cunt, I coughed on a French couple as I strolled down the Bellagio shops. It was my discreet FUCK YOU GUYS! NEVER FORGET! YOU'RE IN AMUUUURICA! FUCK. FRANCE. Ahhh, I'm so resentful, it's gross), and I sniffle every twenty seconds. My nose is red and dry, and my voice... it sounds like I have a bullfrog living in my vocal cords.
I'm straight GARBAGE, but I deal with it because I don't want the little coconut to complain about having a shit time in my city.
Needless to say, I'm also a little agravated. It's difficult to stay chirpy when you're forcing yourself to look and act normal... when all you want to do is stay in bed, sippin' on some hot tea and chicken soup... coughing like a motherfucker and spitting out all the disgusting, drama-causing phlegm.
Like with everyone, I'm noticing some things that bother me a bit about this goddaughter of mine. I've tried beating them out of her.
She's A LITTLE self-centered.
Her momma's a housewife... so she does everything around the house. The only thing my little coconut has to do is... wake up, go to school, go to soccer practice, do her homework, go to sleep. So... she's kinda... slightly... umm... how do I put this nicely... she's... a little useless? Um... a little lazy?
She leaves her clothes thrown all over the house-- the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom, the different bedrooms.
She'll also leave her used bath towels (because she uses two each day) crumbled in the corner of the bathroom... or sink... but ALWAYS crumbled into a very wet ball.
She'll leave all appliances turned on... even her straightening iron.
It's... quite obvious what her mom does for her... because the coconut won't do those activities (seriously... not turning off appliances? That's dangerous! Do it for your OWN safety, homegirl).
My little coconut also lacks a filter when speaking.
Yesterday, as we were all enjoying a family dinner at the kitchen table, she started talking about dolphin facts.
Coconut: Oh my god! I learned SO much about dolphins last year! Like... SO MUCH!
Mom: Oh yeah? My favorite animal is the dolphin.
Coconut: Yeah! Like... there's this thing... called... beastAlity...
D: BesTIALity...
Coconut: Yeah, that. Where humans like to fuck animals...
Me: Oh man...
I look at dad, who has long since stopped eating.
Coconut: And like... when dolphins cum... it like... SHOOTS OUT AT 40 MILES PER HOUR!
Coconut accompanies this with hand gestures... which... I mean, I'm sure you can all imagine what it must have looked like-- her reaching for her imaginary penis, and then "shooting" cum out of it. Truly priceless, guys, just priceless.
Coconut: Imagine! Imagine if like... a human is trying to give it a blowjob!
(I had lost all control by now and was laughing so hard, I was hurting my tender little esophagus. "Blowjob" in a Chicago accent cracks me the fuck up. "Blow-J-Ahhhhh-b")
Coconut: It'll chop the person's head right off!!
Yup. Definitely my goddaughter!
This child just HAD to be mine.
She's clearly one of my people... though I'd NEVER mention blowjobs... bestiality... or any sort of sexually-related topic in front of my dad... or anyone else's dad. EVER.
(She proceeded to make today's dinner similarly eventful... by talking about diarrhea. That kid. Gotta love it)
I hope this flu goes to hell in the next few hours. I need to be in tip-top shape for at least one fucking day... you know, so I can remember it clearly whenever I want to take a stroll down memory lane.
Also, so I can take at least one decent shot with the freakin' munchkin (today, we rode one of the rollercoasters on the strip, and when we reached that one place where they show you the photo they take of you while you're on the ride, she took a glimpse of it and very loudly exclaimed "YOU LOOK FUCKIN' RETARDED, AnoMALIE!" That damn filter thing again).
Aaaand there's also the UNLV game on Friday... while I'm cool with fucking up the stupid tourists on the strip, I don't want my fellow Rebels to get sick because of my sick "retarded" ass.
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