Mother of Pearl!

If my neighbors don't stop opening and closing their front door...I swear I will saw the fucker off it's hinges, bitch slap them with it, then slam it on top of their heads and pretend surf the Serengeti with their fat corpses. I just googled Serengeti to see what it was and apparently you can't really 'surf' the Serengeti. It actually looks pretty, pretty, pretty dry there.

So change of plans. Since I can't surf them, maybe I can like paddle their bloated bodies up a small creek or something. What the fuck are they doing? Waiting for a crack delivery for fucks sake? Know what's outside our front doors. Snow and trees. What in thee m effer are you looking at?

Know what else sucks right now? Waiting on a call back for a job. Welcome to the last two days of my life:

Have to take a dump. What if she calls? Take my phone with me. What if I'm in the middle of pushing out a deuce? I'll have to cut it off. She'll hear the echo in the bathroom and know I'm talking to her while on the toilet. I can't flush so I'll have just have to cut it off, dry wipe and move outside the bathroom stealthily. That's a lot of work and Lord knows I don't need any help in the poop anxiety dept.

Need to do laundry. What if she calls? Take my phone with me. What if I drop it in the washer then she tries calling? What if I don't get a signal in the basement. Should I leave it upstairs? What if she calls and I can't hear it because of the washer? Mad dash into the basement without the phone to start load of wash. So preoccupied by thinking about the phone call that I put the detergent in the fabric softener hole. FUCK! Rip that apart, rinse it out and start over. Surely she's called and I've missed it by now.

Nope.

Check phone sixty hundred billion times. Drain battery doing so. Verbally bash anyone that calls who is not the prospective employer. Piss off the 'dude'. Says I'm not paying attention to him talking to me. Ask him to repeat what he just said because I was looking at my phone. Obsess if I wrote the right phone number on my resume. Well no matter, I have my email address on there as well. Obsess if that's wrong too. Check resume. Nope, all good.

Have to go grocery shopping. Get a real shitty signal there. I just know she's going to call. The reception will be all choppy and I'm going to sound like a moron. Screaming 'Hello?! Can you hear me?' into the phone twenty times will surely get me the job. Pull up to the grocery store, wait 20 minutes in the car hoping she will call.

She doesn't call.

Boyfriend breaks up with me because I stop doing any of my girlfriendly duties or taking showers. He moves out. I starve to death because I won't leave the house. Coroner shows up and pries the phone from my cold dead fingers. Still no phone call.

Piss on it. Employment is overrated.

Oh and this 

Digging a hole out back
-t.Weezy