I've got my friends, I've got my songs

I woke up at 5:30 the other morning after having a very strange dream where the ginger kid from Salute Your Shorts was now grossly obese and was stalking me at the convenience store I worked at. Why was he stalking me? Because the dream version of me had ACTUALLY GONE to Camp Annawanna. How fucking cool is that? I wish I could tell people I went to Salute Your Shorts Camp. But, Dream Kat also works at a convenience store, and that's fucking sad. BUT! Apparently at this dream convenience store I work at, I get free unlimited Arizona Iced Teas.

Just thinking about it is getting me all worked up.

The first day of school is always bullshit. No parking, awkward and clumsy kids fumbling around campus looking all bright-eyed and bushy tailed. I give those little bastards a month before they're dragging ass to the nearest coffee cart while they consider the pros and cons of dropping out and getting a full time job instead of crawling out of bed at 6:00 am and pulling yourself up four flights of stairs for an 8:oo am Cultural Anthropology class that you know you're going to either zone out or sleep through anyway.

Look at me, ever the optimist. But this isn't my first rodeo and this certainly isn't my last. How sad for me. I'm such a bitter, cynical old bitch. And then people say "Oh, Kat's so nice! Ohhhh, Kat's so funny! OOOOHHH she's so helpful!" When, really, they're too stupid to realize that I'm making fun of them.

Ah, I'm going to hell.

The bestie says I'm being extra funny today, and I don't feel funny at all. This obviously means I'm headed for a violent mood swing where I sleep too much and lay in bed listening to The Smiths , all the while I'm screaming at the top of my lungs for the housekeeper to bring more oreos and peanut butter. When I'm not yelling for treats I'm yelling "AND IF A DOUBLLLE DECKEEERRRR BUUUUSSSS CRAAAAASHES INTO UUUUUUUS. TO DIE BY YOOOUUUUUURRRRR SIIIIIIIIDE, WELL THE PLEASURRRRE AND PRIVILEEEEEGE IS MIIIIIINE" in an obnoxious falsetto with red lipstick on and my bangs pinned into a makeshift pompadour. But, we don't have a housekeeper anymore, which means I'd have to get my own oreos and peanut butter, and that takes all the fun out of it.

If I had the ability - nay, the willpower - to stop listening to the same seven bands I've had on repeat for almost the last month, I would totally listen to that right now. But Morrissey and Johnny Marr ain't no Dan and Alan, so those mopey British fucks can suuuuuck iiit.

NONSEQUITUR !

Courtesy of Facebook chat:

KAT: Is it just me, or is Launey getting fat?
KAT: Also, Lainey seems to be getting quite portly, no?
DENISE: Yeah, they're both fucking heffers
KAT: It's because all Austrians have the Augustus Gloop gene
KAT: Fat fucks.