Linette’s out with her friends tonight, so I’m sitting here, alone in what must be my mom’s basement, furtively stealing glances of Putin’s chest during the slow parts of Capricorn One, and feeling guilty about the Ypsipanty orders I can’t seem to find the energy to fill. (Who would have thought that panty packing could be so emotionally draining?) If only I could break free of the computer and make my way across the room to where think Linette has hidden the Cheese-Its…
And, for the record, this is what I think of television news too.
One Comment
My workplace must have a Putin Chest Filter. I can’t see anything.