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i desperately need to move out of this apartment and get one of my own (or one with bobby which might turn out to be quite an awful idea).

having said that, i went to orlando this past weekend (hence the driving past the politically incorrect plane crash) where i had a hotel room which had a kitchenette. my first thought was, yay! i can cook and save money and not have to spend precious money on pizza delivery. then i went to the supermarket. on my way to the supermarket, i ran a stop sign and drove over a speed bump at approx. 30 mph. at the supermarket, i had my second thought, which was, wow, i don't think i know how to cook anything. so i ended up buying kraft mac n cheese (it is the cheesiest, you know). and a box of hot pockets. which were also cheesy.

i am lactose intolerant. cheese makes the bacteria in my gut happy, and it makes me fart.


on the way back from the supermarket, i drove onto the grass by mistake, cos i thought it was the road. i also missed the entrance of the hotel and turned into the exit (which was one way, by the way) and almost ran into someone coming out, upon which i had my third thought: i am so not ready for the real world.

and then i returned to my hotel room, cooked my mac n cheese, ate it, and promptly farted.

it was a small, and disheartening, preview of what life on my own would be like: craptastic driving and flatulence.

and by the way, im not going to eat the mothersucking canteloupe because it tastes like poop, and if you dont like that, you can shove it up your ass.