Still laughing at this typo that appeared on my Facebook feed last weekend.
Showing posts with label photos. Show all posts
Showing posts with label photos. Show all posts
2014-06-21
2014-03-18
Three Men in a Tub
We're planning a trip to Las Vegas soon, and it's taken a lot of coordination to figure out the accommodations. I kind of miss the days when we'd secretly cram 10-20 of us into a single room. Vegas isn't for sleeping anyway. You need the room for like a 2 hour power nap and then it's time to make that hungover drive home. So why pay for a room? If Vegas wants our money, it can get it the old-fashioned way: enabling us to gamble irresponsibly.
I remember one time we had well over 15 people in a room. A couple of friends and I were the last back in and even the floorspace was monopolized by that point. One of our drunk asses suggested that we try sleeping in the bathtub, so we gave it a shot. Remember that nursery rhyme - rub a dub dub, three men in a tub? It was just like that. I couldn't tell you which of us was the candlestick maker, though.
We slept head to feet to head. I was in the center and my head was directly under the faucet. As if the tub wasn't uncomfortable enough, it leaked ever so slightly. About once a minute, a drop would fall out of the faucet and plunk onto my forehead. I kept telling myself to ignore it and that I'd eventually pass out, but I could not fall asleep like that. Given my intoxicated state, it took me far too long to recognize that I was literally subjecting myself to Chinese water torture. Suddenly it made sense why the slow dripping of water on my face was driving me crazy.
It turned out that three men in a tub was not a comfortable way to sleep, so we abandoned the shower and just cuddled up with others on the floor. Look at how cute we were!
I remember one time we had well over 15 people in a room. A couple of friends and I were the last back in and even the floorspace was monopolized by that point. One of our drunk asses suggested that we try sleeping in the bathtub, so we gave it a shot. Remember that nursery rhyme - rub a dub dub, three men in a tub? It was just like that. I couldn't tell you which of us was the candlestick maker, though.
We slept head to feet to head. I was in the center and my head was directly under the faucet. As if the tub wasn't uncomfortable enough, it leaked ever so slightly. About once a minute, a drop would fall out of the faucet and plunk onto my forehead. I kept telling myself to ignore it and that I'd eventually pass out, but I could not fall asleep like that. Given my intoxicated state, it took me far too long to recognize that I was literally subjecting myself to Chinese water torture. Suddenly it made sense why the slow dripping of water on my face was driving me crazy.
It turned out that three men in a tub was not a comfortable way to sleep, so we abandoned the shower and just cuddled up with others on the floor. Look at how cute we were!
2014-03-05
2014-02-03
Too Soon!
This is why I blog. I realize that I shouldn't take pleasure in intentionally baiting people into getting indignant about a Hunger Games pun I made yesterday, but they make it so fun.
As for the joke being "too soon" - of course it's too soon, it's not even worth saying a day later. Plus, I'm a proud member of Team Too Soon, so I take it as a compliment.
Speaking of which, that's another reason I blog. That previously linked post about the Urban Iditarod from 2010 has subsequently provided even more laughs than the event itself thanks to Google's algorithm. A fairly raunchy photo of a friend included that blog entry has been, for quite some time, the #1 google image search for both girl touching dick and girl touching penis.
Should she/we be more embarrassed about this distinction? Maybe! But like my good-humored friend's mom pointed out, she wishes she were #1 on Google for something, so it's really kind of an honor.
And if it's not porn, it's probably not getting searched for at all, truthfully. The #1 search result that leads to my blog is some variation on "porn on hulu". Indeed, I did recount how I accidentally found soft core content on Hulu five years ago, but it's not that exciting. With the whole sick internet available to you, you want to know where there's a flash of a boob on Hulu? Whatever floats your boat… but hopefully it's a trench-coated man stroking a doll arm attached to a woman dressed like David Carradine that does it for you, 'cause we actually got that here!
2013-11-10
It's Like 10,000 Spoons When All You Need Is A Knife
I know "Ironic" isn't actually ironic, but is it considered irony when your life mimics an Alanis Morissette lyric?
(Also, somebody please wash the knives.)
2013-11-01
Quail-Man
I dressed as Quail-Man for Halloween. I chose Doug Funnie's alter-ego because the actual costume IS a crappy costume and therefore isn't hard to put together. But it was still a hit! I mean, most people seemed to have no idea who this dude was running around with a belt on his head and underwear* as outerwear, but the minority of people who did recognize me were super into the nostalgia and I wound up posing for a couple dozen photos with strangers. I just wish Quail-Man had some kind of catchphrase, because each time people shouted at me, I had nothing to respond but, "Heyyyyy." (What does the Quail say?)
I thought Quail-Man would be an original costume - I've never seen anyone dressed as him before - but wouldn't you know it, I ran into two other Quail-Men in my trek around Hollywood last night. We should probably start an Awesome People/Awesome Ideas club.
* I purchased the tighty whities from Goodwill for 50 cents. Yeah, that's gross, but I washed them twice and they went over my pants so I think it's okay. I hope it's okay, anyway.
2013-10-01
How The Onion Made Me a Better Person
I'm not satirizing satire - The Onion really did prompt me to make a positive life decision.
A month ago, I tore a hole into my fitted bed sheet. It's old, so I believe the sheet had just worn thin over time. Since the hole was small, I just ignored it, but the more I slept on it, the wider the hole got from incidental tearing.
I considered sewing it, but then realized I didn't have the skills for that, so instead I fastened it with safety pins. Sleeping on top of safety pins isn't too comfortable, so I started just sleeping on top of the hole as if it weren't there.
Most people would be like "Time to buy a new sheet!" but I wasn't convinced that was necessary for whatever reason. Then I read I read The Onion's article "Nation's Single Men Announce Announce Plan to Change Bedsheets by 2019" and it dawned one me what a schlub I am.
I know I often make myself the punchline, but that's on my own terms, thankyouvermuch. Not wanting to be the butt of the joke in this case, I finally bought a new fitted sheet! Look at me being an adult, world!
Now, before things get too self-congratulatory, I should probably also admit that I still have not replaced this blanket that is also slowly accumulating holes.
I got this sucker over ten years ago in a corporate giveaway and I still sleep with it on my bed. A real adult would probably get rid of it, but, uh, baby steps.
Also, a real adult might know how to put a fitted sheet on his bed. After fifteen minutes of solid effort, the corners kept untucking and popping off, leaving me stewing in frustration. At one point, I even aggressively poked my finger through one of the corners as I tried to stretch it further (and I swear I didn't even cheap out on this sheet!) meaning I technically have a hole in this sheet, too, even though I hadn't even slept on it yet. ARGGGGHH!
The best solution would have been to ask a roommate for help, but I was determined to stretch it on my own and even used Google for potential tips. That's when I found this second Onion article: "Study Reveals Majority of Suicides Occur While Trying to Put Fitted Sheet on Bed."
I was about ready to hang myself with the fitted sheet at that point, and once again, The Onion put things in perspective. I might owe The Onion for not only improving my life, but also saving it.
2013-09-08
How Do We Stop a War?
It's so pathetic that we are inevitably going to war with a country for reasons we can barely explain. Obama has promised to lay out the reasons for bombing Syria, but the excuses are slow to be shared, and even those that are aren't passing the sniff test. How is it in a "democratic" country that the government can wage war against a country that is not posing a threat to us even when the majority of Americans do not support such a war?
Initially, I didn't know how to feel about the proposed attacks on Syria. I mean, what did I know about Syria? So I learned about it. Here's a great primer for beginners who need some help learning, as well - and I promise that it's not difficult to comprehend.
Here's the thing: it's not black and white. This would be way easier if there was a good side and a bad side in Syria, but there's not. The authorities are evil AND some of the rebels are evil, while some other revolutionary facets exist that maybe aren't bad but it's hard to tell because everyone's just getting slaughtered - over 100,000 people in fact.
So how do we bring peace to Syria? Bomb the fuck out of them! Lol, jk, that doesn't even make sense… it's just American diplomacy. The U.S.'s current position is one of, "Stop killing each other so we can kill you instead!"
Obama is a warmonger. Progressives don't want to hear it, but the evidence has been in front of you the whole time. The endless drone warfare. The continued military occupations in countries we've "liberated". Shame on any liberal who (rightly) criticized Bush for his phony reasons for war, but are plugging their ears and giving Obama a pass on this one because they don't want to face that they are complicit in this system. A sham of a system that we all perpetuate by pretending we have a choice when the Democrat/Republicans take us down the same path. The military industrial complex needs to attack foreign countries to thrive, and Obama is happy to handpick them one.
"But Syria used chemical weapons!" Fuck that noise. The U.S. used chemical weapons in Vietnam, who punished us for that shit? In the case of Syria, you don't get to sit around as tens of thousands of people die from bullets, and then suddenly be like "Hundreds died from chemical gas? That's inhumane!" How many senseless genocides have occurred with no U.S. intervention? There is nothing heroic about bringing additional war to a war-torn nation.
I liked this sign I saw today: "200,000 refugees and we send BOMBS?" It's not that we shouldn't lend support to the people of Syria - we need to do it in a way that will be helpful, not counterproductive and, well, fatal. And maybe - just once - the U.S. could sit this one out. Let the UN or a country that actually maintains some kind of moral authority get involved, because clearly the American "solution" is not a real solution.
I attend a No War in Syria protest today on Hollywood Boulevard. It was kind of interesting confronting blissfully ignorant tourists with the realities of the US regime, and the visibility for our message was high. However, no one was keeping a more watchful eye on us than the police. As usual, they surrounded, intimidated, and even arrested some of the protesters in attendance. Your country guarantees you the right to protest, but when you actually try to do it… they try to block people from seeing you and pull out their batons and EVEN GUNS in the hope of scaring you away.
The police's action makes the picture all the more clear: you don't want war? Tough shit, you're getting war. And there's nothing you can do to stop it. That said, we need to find a way to stop it.
Initially, I didn't know how to feel about the proposed attacks on Syria. I mean, what did I know about Syria? So I learned about it. Here's a great primer for beginners who need some help learning, as well - and I promise that it's not difficult to comprehend.
Here's the thing: it's not black and white. This would be way easier if there was a good side and a bad side in Syria, but there's not. The authorities are evil AND some of the rebels are evil, while some other revolutionary facets exist that maybe aren't bad but it's hard to tell because everyone's just getting slaughtered - over 100,000 people in fact.
So how do we bring peace to Syria? Bomb the fuck out of them! Lol, jk, that doesn't even make sense… it's just American diplomacy. The U.S.'s current position is one of, "Stop killing each other so we can kill you instead!"
Obama is a warmonger. Progressives don't want to hear it, but the evidence has been in front of you the whole time. The endless drone warfare. The continued military occupations in countries we've "liberated". Shame on any liberal who (rightly) criticized Bush for his phony reasons for war, but are plugging their ears and giving Obama a pass on this one because they don't want to face that they are complicit in this system. A sham of a system that we all perpetuate by pretending we have a choice when the Democrat/Republicans take us down the same path. The military industrial complex needs to attack foreign countries to thrive, and Obama is happy to handpick them one.
"But Syria used chemical weapons!" Fuck that noise. The U.S. used chemical weapons in Vietnam, who punished us for that shit? In the case of Syria, you don't get to sit around as tens of thousands of people die from bullets, and then suddenly be like "Hundreds died from chemical gas? That's inhumane!" How many senseless genocides have occurred with no U.S. intervention? There is nothing heroic about bringing additional war to a war-torn nation.
I liked this sign I saw today: "200,000 refugees and we send BOMBS?" It's not that we shouldn't lend support to the people of Syria - we need to do it in a way that will be helpful, not counterproductive and, well, fatal. And maybe - just once - the U.S. could sit this one out. Let the UN or a country that actually maintains some kind of moral authority get involved, because clearly the American "solution" is not a real solution.
I attend a No War in Syria protest today on Hollywood Boulevard. It was kind of interesting confronting blissfully ignorant tourists with the realities of the US regime, and the visibility for our message was high. However, no one was keeping a more watchful eye on us than the police. As usual, they surrounded, intimidated, and even arrested some of the protesters in attendance. Your country guarantees you the right to protest, but when you actually try to do it… they try to block people from seeing you and pull out their batons and EVEN GUNS in the hope of scaring you away.
The police's action makes the picture all the more clear: you don't want war? Tough shit, you're getting war. And there's nothing you can do to stop it. That said, we need to find a way to stop it.
2013-08-24
Pullups Pillow
So there's a senior citizen passed out in my hallway using a bag of Huggies Pullups as a pillow. PARTY AT MY PLACE!
It's a long story, but for reasons I still don't understand, my roommate allowed his friend, his friend's wife, their 2 and 3-year old kids, and his father-in-law (see "grandpa" above) to have a vacation at our house for four days. So far they've gone to Disneyland and the beach… yet mysteriously, not a motel.
Simultaneously, my roommate has also invited people to crash here for Fuck Yeah Fest (a music festival in LA this weekend), which means there are drunk concert-goers also taking up space on the couches. I guess when there's not enough places for people to sleep, Grandpa winds up on the floor?
How does this situation even work? It arguably doesn't. We have the late 20s/early 30s degenerates boozing until 3am, and then just three hours later, the kids are awake, screaming and stomping around like children their age do. Plus, there's just one bathroom for all of us.
It's like Full House, but with fewer heartwarming moments.
2013-08-18
Say Cheese
My sister posted this photo on Facebook and then texted me angrily a few hours later when I hadn't "liked" it. Will blogging it suffice, Alison?
2013-06-27
2013-06-20
Cup Holder
I don't know when they started making ornamental cup holders, but I really don't see the point.
2013-06-18
R. Kelly Party
Look, I'm not advocating turning 30… but if you HAVE to do it for whatever reason, do it with an R. Kelly party, 'cause the other night was a lot of fun.
I basically forgot it was my birthday. It was all about Kells, and that's how I wanted it. We projected his music videos on the walls: Trapped in the Closet, the religious tunes, sex jams, the radio hits, more sex jams, sing-alongs, his step dancing tracks, and still more sex jams, obviously.
Everyone should get laid off just before their birthday, because that gave me a lot of free time to prepare for the bash. For example, I homemade made a 6-foot tall R. Kelly cutout. I emptied a color ink cartridge on my home printer and butchered a piece of foam insulation in the process, but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. People thought I had it professionally done, which is too kind of a compliment for how it looked, but I will accept the compliment considering how many hours I put into the damn thing.
With my sudden free time, I also made a bunch of "lyric hats" for everyone to wear. It was construction paper headwear that included some of the most absurd and raunchiest R. Kelly song lines, and I think it helped set the tone.
Then again, the tone was probably mostly set by everyone "sippin' on coke and rum". Thankfully, it got wild without turning into a shit-show… I'm going to chalk that up to the maturity that comes with 30!
There were water guns - some filled with water, some with rum - so that people could squirt on each other freely. Yellow streamers accentuated the doorways. And just when you thought all the urination jokes were complete, a sign on the restroom door restricted where (read: who) you could pee on.
My highlight of the night was when people brought out the cake and 40 people sang "Ignition" instead of "Happy Birthday." That transitioned into "Echo" "Real Talk" "Bump n Grind" "I Believe I Can Fly" and some step dancing. I barely dance at this stage of my life, but many of us were going for it. For as ridiculous as the man is, R. Kelly also makes some great music.
Fuck losing my job, I think I found my next career: party planning. I mean, I'd prefer it if people just hired me to do R. Kelly parties for them because I've got that one down and it's better than any other theme you'd dream up, but I suppose I could learn to make life-size cutouts of other things, too. THINK ABOUT IT.
I basically forgot it was my birthday. It was all about Kells, and that's how I wanted it. We projected his music videos on the walls: Trapped in the Closet, the religious tunes, sex jams, the radio hits, more sex jams, sing-alongs, his step dancing tracks, and still more sex jams, obviously.
Everyone should get laid off just before their birthday, because that gave me a lot of free time to prepare for the bash. For example, I homemade made a 6-foot tall R. Kelly cutout. I emptied a color ink cartridge on my home printer and butchered a piece of foam insulation in the process, but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. People thought I had it professionally done, which is too kind of a compliment for how it looked, but I will accept the compliment considering how many hours I put into the damn thing.
With my sudden free time, I also made a bunch of "lyric hats" for everyone to wear. It was construction paper headwear that included some of the most absurd and raunchiest R. Kelly song lines, and I think it helped set the tone.
Then again, the tone was probably mostly set by everyone "sippin' on coke and rum". Thankfully, it got wild without turning into a shit-show… I'm going to chalk that up to the maturity that comes with 30!
There were water guns - some filled with water, some with rum - so that people could squirt on each other freely. Yellow streamers accentuated the doorways. And just when you thought all the urination jokes were complete, a sign on the restroom door restricted where (read: who) you could pee on.
My highlight of the night was when people brought out the cake and 40 people sang "Ignition" instead of "Happy Birthday." That transitioned into "Echo" "Real Talk" "Bump n Grind" "I Believe I Can Fly" and some step dancing. I barely dance at this stage of my life, but many of us were going for it. For as ridiculous as the man is, R. Kelly also makes some great music.
Fuck losing my job, I think I found my next career: party planning. I mean, I'd prefer it if people just hired me to do R. Kelly parties for them because I've got that one down and it's better than any other theme you'd dream up, but I suppose I could learn to make life-size cutouts of other things, too. THINK ABOUT IT.
2013-05-16
A Baby Is Born
So that my pregnant friend of mine who I said all the wrong things to met us at that same bar this week. I wasn't expecting to see her because she's literally nine months pregnant. Come to think of it, I don't think anyone expects to see a nine months pregnant woman in a bar.
Weirder still is when she said she was likely to come out again the following week… a day after her due date. That is, she stipulated, if she hadn't given birth yet. "What if you have the baby on the due date, will you still come out the next night?" "No." she said. See, this baby is already cutting into our friendship.
Luie said he'd grab towels "just in case." We tried to get her to agree to name the baby after the bar if her water broke while she was there, but she wouldn't agree.
My favorite moment, however, occurred between a married couple who are new friends of mine. After they were introduced to my pregnant friend and stared at her massive belly, they had a brief exchange:
Husband: "That looks awful. I don't think I could ever do that to you."
Wife: "That's good, because I don't want you to ever do that to me."
Sounds like we can be friends for a good long while. Three cheers for the non-procreators!
Just 36 hours after that night in a bar, I received a picture message from my friend: it was her fresh-out-of-the-oven baby. Admittedly, it's difficult to reconcile the fact that we were hanging out and then soon after she was pushing a new human being out of her body.
I, again not saying the most appropriate things for the occasion, responded by sending this GIF of an even cuter baby performing CPR. (Seriously, I adore it so much, I watched it loop for fifteen minutes straight.) Accordingly, I asked the new mommy if she had bothered to teach her not-even-one-day-old resuscitation techniques yet.
She gave some lame excuse that the baby having enough difficulty learning to breastfeed, but whatever. This is about potentially saving someone's life! It's never too soon. Frankly, I'm not sure I'm willing to hang out with this baby until I know she could rescue me in the event I stop breathing.
Weirder still is when she said she was likely to come out again the following week… a day after her due date. That is, she stipulated, if she hadn't given birth yet. "What if you have the baby on the due date, will you still come out the next night?" "No." she said. See, this baby is already cutting into our friendship.
Luie said he'd grab towels "just in case." We tried to get her to agree to name the baby after the bar if her water broke while she was there, but she wouldn't agree.
My favorite moment, however, occurred between a married couple who are new friends of mine. After they were introduced to my pregnant friend and stared at her massive belly, they had a brief exchange:
Husband: "That looks awful. I don't think I could ever do that to you."
Wife: "That's good, because I don't want you to ever do that to me."
Sounds like we can be friends for a good long while. Three cheers for the non-procreators!
Just 36 hours after that night in a bar, I received a picture message from my friend: it was her fresh-out-of-the-oven baby. Admittedly, it's difficult to reconcile the fact that we were hanging out and then soon after she was pushing a new human being out of her body.
I, again not saying the most appropriate things for the occasion, responded by sending this GIF of an even cuter baby performing CPR. (Seriously, I adore it so much, I watched it loop for fifteen minutes straight.) Accordingly, I asked the new mommy if she had bothered to teach her not-even-one-day-old resuscitation techniques yet.
She gave some lame excuse that the baby having enough difficulty learning to breastfeed, but whatever. This is about potentially saving someone's life! It's never too soon. Frankly, I'm not sure I'm willing to hang out with this baby until I know she could rescue me in the event I stop breathing.
2013-05-12
Happy Mothers' Day, especially to UR MOM!
I couldn't resist purchasing this airbrushed hat for today's holiday. It just seems like a nice gesture to indicate that I not only appreciate my own mother, but ur mom, as well.
It was a great thrift store find. As was this t-shirt.
Weird kid, but I didn't buy it.
My mother will be pleased to learn that I decided against buying a shirt featuring an elephant's butt, too. I think it's a sign of maturity that I realize not every article of clothing can't be a joke?
But if the UR MOM hat wasn't enough of an indication, I'm still not that mature. For example, I couldn't resist buying this bejeweled BINGO WINNER shirt. Not sure when I'd ever wear it, but perhaps I can coax one of my friends into it.
In the parking lot, a homeless guy (not the one who peed in my car) asked if he could wash my headlights for a small donation. I gave him a few bucks and he told me that my "mama must have raised me right." There, Mom, you have something to be proud of… other than that fashion sense that clearly never developed.
Oh, and I also found this shirt:
2013-04-01
Fooled Ya
2013-03-27
Sneaky
However, that's not the point of this story. You see, starting from 20 yards away, Ted kept inching closer to the bird without it noticing so he could take photos of it. The bird was oblivious, so he was pretty proud of his stealth photography skills.
But then things got funny when a strange old man came up behind Ted. He began taking photos of Ted taking pictures of the bird, and slowly crept up on both subjects as well. At one point, he was just a few feet behind Ted.
Later, we asked Ted what he thought of the old man behind him. He didn't know anything about the man and didn't seem to believe there was someone behind him until we showed him photos. Ted had no idea he was being photographed: he was so caught up in being sneaky, that he left himself vulnerable to being snuck up on himself. The hunter became the hunted!
Except that I'm obviously the top hunter here because I took photos of all three of them without their knowledge. What a weird cycle.
2013-03-21
The Beacontown Beavers
This season, each of the dodgeball teams in our league named itself after an 80s movie reference. I had two stellar suggestions if I say so myself.
In fact, I did say so myself with St. Elmo's Fire Crotch. Apparently, my teammates weren't ready to do more than shake their heads at the thought of portraying an alleged pedophile as angelic. Plus the team's redhead wasn't wild about it. Fair enough. But Elmo is a fire crotch if I've ever seen one, so it wasn't entirely inappropriate.
When Harry Met Sally Jessy Raphael was much better received. That's three 80s references in one! Despite getting the most support from my teammates, our captain overruled (booooo).
So instead, we're the Beacontown Beavers. That's a reference to the basketball team in the Michael J. Fox movie Teen Wolf. It's not so bad being a beaver:
I had on my full yellow garb and short athletic shorts in honor of dodgeball playoffs last night. The Beacontown Beavers did pretty well last night, no thanks to me. I couldn't catch for shit last night, gosh dam it, but hopefully my sexy legs at least distracted the other team.
I'm optimistic about our team's chances in the finals next week because it's basically been foretold. Not just because our shirts already read "Champions" (boy, wouldn't that be embarrassing if we were wrong?) but because Teen Wolf's theme song is "Win in the End." With a boring tune and lyrics that a second grader could have written, I've really come to like how awful and 80s that song is:
"Win in the end. I'm gonna win in the end."
In fact, I did say so myself with St. Elmo's Fire Crotch. Apparently, my teammates weren't ready to do more than shake their heads at the thought of portraying an alleged pedophile as angelic. Plus the team's redhead wasn't wild about it. Fair enough. But Elmo is a fire crotch if I've ever seen one, so it wasn't entirely inappropriate.
So instead, we're the Beacontown Beavers. That's a reference to the basketball team in the Michael J. Fox movie Teen Wolf. It's not so bad being a beaver:
I had on my full yellow garb and short athletic shorts in honor of dodgeball playoffs last night. The Beacontown Beavers did pretty well last night, no thanks to me. I couldn't catch for shit last night, gosh dam it, but hopefully my sexy legs at least distracted the other team.
I'm optimistic about our team's chances in the finals next week because it's basically been foretold. Not just because our shirts already read "Champions" (boy, wouldn't that be embarrassing if we were wrong?) but because Teen Wolf's theme song is "Win in the End." With a boring tune and lyrics that a second grader could have written, I've really come to like how awful and 80s that song is:
"Win in the end. I'm gonna win in the end."
2013-03-16
When Drunk People Help You Clean Up Your BBQ...
2013-02-19
New Spirit Animal
I know it's not polite to take pictures of strangers without their permission, but I couldn't help it; this old lady I saw downtown is KILLING it style-wise. Let's give a rundown:- purple shirt
- purple jacket
- purple necklace
- purple rings
- purple earrings
- purple hat
- purple oversized glasses
- purple pants
- purple sneakers
- purple purse
Oh, and she's also holding a purple sweater and purple scarf just in case she gets too cold on this fairly warm day. That, or in case she suddenly needs more purple.
I'm never declared a spirit animal before, but now I'm glad I've held out. This lady is it, this lady is my spirit animal. My life is about to change, y'all.
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